Grace and elegance

Balmy scenes from the Lakes a week or so ago, when it was hot and glorious. Right now, as storm Francis rages, I imagine it's all looking a bit different. Very glad to have had such a good week there. 

Did I mention I went paddleboarding? In fact I didn't have a swimsuit with me, what with there not being any sea and me not imagining for a minute that it would be hot enough to swim in a lake. So I borrowed some swimming trunks and a t-shirt and strapped myself (tightly) into a life jacket and I was good to go. Actually, I only went because they (wisely) wouldn't let children out unaccompanied. Balancing on a board on top of freezing cold water isn't where you would generally expect to find me.

I concentrated really hard and did pretty well for a while. By 'pretty well' I mean I didn't fall off. But then there was a bit of swell and I lost focus and that was it, off I crashed in spectacular fashion. It took me a while to get back on. They'd shown us how to pull ourselves back on, but they'd neglected to explain what to do when the board flipped over on top of you when you tried to get on.

A gigantic pike (predator fish with ALL THE TEETH) was circling nearby as well, just to add to the tension. I sadly don't have any footage of me plummeting below the surface, but I do have a shot of me calmly drifting about the place.

I discovered that it was really relaxing to sit down and float about. In fact, you can lie on the board on your back and just bob gently up and down, which was far more my sort of thing. I was of course forced into racing and stuff and I may have fallen off again, I don't remember. At least it wasn't cold though. In fact, we were messing about in the lake because it was too hot to climb a mountain. 

We stayed in a lovely stone house, which was surprisingly hot inside. I always thought thick stone walls would stay cool. The stones had some gaps in them, which I think may have housed a bit of wildlife. One day I happened to be upstairs walking through my bedroom when I spotted a small snake slithering in the window and across the windowsill. UPSTAIRS! When I'd finished shrieking and managed to find a volunteer to capture it in a large Tupperware I calmed down slightly. It was a young grass snake, probably enjoying the warmth of the stone walls. Until it went inside and it all got noisy.

We released it into the grass and I went for a sit down with a cold flannel over my face. I made sure I shook my pyjamas out that night I can tell you. And looked under the bed, and in the cupboard and under the duvet. As a general rule, I'm not too shrieky and I'm all for lots of wild things roaming about the place, just not over me in the dark. 

Hoping all is well at your end. CJ xx

Lakes and mountains

 

There is a bit of post-holiday, post-lockdown, post-five-months with-nothing-to-do disillusionment here, for want of a better word. The urchins have had enough I fear. I have told them tales of how in my day we entertained ourselves with nothing but a piece of string and a stick and thought ourselves glad to have it, but alas it has not seemed to help. 

The first half of it all was fine. All golden sunshine and energy and enthusiasm and fun with each other, playing games, going out for Permitted Exercise and general bonhomie in a tight situation. But somehow that has all evaporated, all the books have been read, all the things have been done, and done again, and there is nothing left to do but brother-baiting. I'm not complaining, I know how lucky we are, it's more of an observation really, and a wondering if it is the same elsewhere. I imagine it might be.

We journeyed to the frozen North last week, which actually turned out to be sweltering. A week in the Lake District, with the dog, mountains, kayaks, paddle boards and the biggest thunderstorm I've ever heard. All fabulous and a nice break away from the usual everyday stuff, which was particularly welcome for the urchins this year I think.

In other news, the dog has decided he no longer cares to go for walks. I've no idea why, it started before we went away. He simply doesn't fancy his morning and evening outings and when he does decide to move he is very picky about which route he is prepared to take. 

I actually have to carry him out of the house and up the road sometimes, and then he sits down and looks at me as if trying to communicate. I sometimes wish we could have a conversation, although he would probably just ask for more sardines and sausages, while I'd have serious things to say about his diabolical treatment of the cushions.

I am wondering if it is a bit of anxiety, worrying that his pack will go off without him while he's out. He is quite an anxious little chap and takes his job of looking after us all very seriously. It's a big responsibility you know.

Probably enough wittering for now, I hope all are well and that no-one has been thunderstruck. CJ xx

Gondolier school

I'm finding it hard to believe it's August. Everything is still a bit surreal. My strict news diet (reading the headlines and the odd articles once a day) means I am sometimes surprised anew by it all. It still seems to be the main topic of conversation so often, which is understandable, but I'd quite like to talk about something else.

The articles I read are usually on other things. The fish on the Miami Bay webcam called Oval who has no tail, the sniffer dog who got to sit in the Speaker's chair and Elon Musk's tweet, 'Aliens built the pyramids obv'. Which set me to wondering how it is that people who are clearly absolutely barking get to be so rich and powerful.

The littlest boy is toying with the idea of becoming a gondolier. He pictures it as being paid to go paddleboarding all day. We googled it and discovered there is all sorts of learning involved, culture and history and so forth, which he found slightly offputting. And he was also surprised to find out it was mostly done in Venice. I'm not sure where he pictured himself doing it. Bristol Docks maybe? I think Italy would suit him rather well, he could have pizza for lunch every day.

I'm wondering how school will go down when September finally rolls around. A bit of an adjustment I imagine. And possibly a shock to the system of those who have managed to avoid almost all learning for the best part of six months. Let's not think about that today.

I am all braced for a warm weekend. I picture myself sat in a deckchair in the shade somewhere with a good book and a cold drink. Of course the reality will probably be racing round Doing Things, preparing endless food, clearing up endless plates and getting cross when no-one helps. But all in all, that's good too.