The above collage is of places where I have felt a special "connection". Somehow, they are where I felt at home, emotionally, spiritually and physically.

I think we all have places like that. Sometimes we just have the one, others have more, like me. Sadly, I cannot return to most of those places. Some are abroad, in Menorca, or on Lake Garda in Italy, and some mean more walking than I can now manage.

The centre one is a misty morning on Lake Garda. It was quite magical. You felt the angels had only just gone away. The church is Hexham Abbey church, saved from Henry VIII's devastation because it was the Parish Church of the town. Inside it is just so old, you can almost hear the monks coming downstairs for the first of the morning services (at 2.0 am!!) In the crypt is one of the oldest Christian churches in England - built, I think, in about 600 AD. Much of it is built from "recycled" stone from the Roman town nearby, left when the Romans left England in the 5th century. Many of the farmhouses around there are also built of Roman stone. After all, why leave good building stone lying around! Hexham is very close to Hadrian's Wall in the north of England.

All the places were special to me. At times I had been very troubled and the peace and quietness restored my soul. God was definitely there.

I need to find more special places.

Always things to do in the garden!

I've been busy this weekend, planting out begonias, gallardias, pansies and mimulus in various troughs and plants on our patio. Hard work for me, heaving bags of compost around! Mr. G. obligingly put the planted throughs where I wanted them!



At the other end of our patio is what I laughingly call my "£raised beds". Grocery store plastic containers, filled with compost and now growing, slowly, lettuces, radishes, spring onions, and very, very slowly, carrots. Also climbing french beans, which will go up the poles on the right. Thehy are cut from our hazel bush, which we cut down every three years or so.



Below the patio is a bed, which at the moment has alliums and not much else, but things are growing fast now, and we will have astrantias, daisies and alchemilla.



Through the honeysuckle arch looking down the garden from the chalet.



Looking sdown the garden from the right hand side




Our chalet (summer house). I spend a lot of time, when I can, that is, sitting in there, reading, drinking tea and just thinking!



Looking back towards the house.



And lastly, our pond, where the tadpoles are thriving, and the slugs haven't eaten the hostas yet! Its right down the end of the garden, by the gate which leads into the Park. We have a little path round it, though its a bit overgrown at the moment. The little statue we inherited with the garden, he used to hold a sundial base, but it got broken. He is weathering nicely now!

We can't compete with the gardens on other blogs! But we do our best, and enjoy the peace and the plants. There's too much lawn now for us oldies, but so far we are managing. Well, Mr. G is managing!

Roots and trunks

 

I love the way the light and shade brings out the shapes of the roots, and makes the perfectly ordinary trunks shine a lovely greeny yellow.

There are lots of old trees in our park, and although some have been taken down, three have been cut off at a height of about 20ft, so wildlife can still make use of them. The roots of course remain, with all their nooks and crannies.

Maybe it says something about me that I like roots! As I get older I appreciae more and more the history of our family, where and how they lived, and their contribution to my own way of life and personality. I can see parts of my grandfathers in me, in the same way I can see family traits in my daughter and grandsons. (No, I am not going to elaborate, Sue!!)

I am not much of a "thing" person, although I have one or two bits and pieces to remind me of my parents, I prefer photographs, written memoirs, letters, cards and things like that. I have written my own memoirs, so that my experiences, which will be totally alien to my grandsons and their children later on, won't get forgotten. Even if they don't read them until they are old, I enjoy reminiscing in words, and remember so much that I thought I had forgotten!

Windows, doors and steps

I have always loved steps, plus doorways and windows.

I love the idea that if I go up, or in, or look through, there will be something different, exciting, even strange.




This was taken at Limone, on Lake Garda, in Italy. What was at the top? Who knows, it was obviously private.




This was a long flight of steps in Mahon, the capital of Menora. All very Spanish!




And again, the architecture of the windows and doors is absolutely wonderful!




As is this!




And this!




An Archway into another street at Cartmel, in the Lake District. I had to go through, of course! And we had lunch at the pub just through on the right!




This last is the spiral staircase in the Henry Bloggs Museum in Cromer, Norfolk (UK of course)


I suppose its much the same as always wanting to see what is round the next corner. I would hate to miss something, just because I stopped short of it!

Herbs

I've been planting herbs in pots, ready for some fantstic home-cooked dinners! I bought six little herbs in a small box, two parsley, two coriander and two fennel. Not too sure about the fennel in a pot, but we will have to see. Not too sure how to use it, either! Must get out my recipe books.



We have also got Sweet Cecily in our garden. It seeds itself all over the place, and has a lovely smell. But I've no idea how to use it. Anyone know?

I also bought a little lavender plant, not the french sort, the old English variety, which I prefer. It was classed as a herb, and therefore cost less than those french varieties classed as plants! That has gone in a lovely grey square pot.

I shall have to have a rest today - heaving bags of compost around and trying to lift plant pots has not done my back any good at all!

Deathof a Tree.......

It was always a beautiful tree. I loved the way its roots had grown down like curvy oergan pipes. It had been in the Park for a long time and generations of people had tried to carve their names in the bark.



But alas, the powers that be have decided the tree is diseased and has to come down. A fungus, they say, and I must admit it has made a poor showing of coming into leaf this year.



But it is always such a shame when a great tree has to come down. Today, there is no chopping and sawing at its roots, and cries of "Timber!" as it falls. A nimble fellow sort of abseils up, and cuts bits off as he goes, finally coming down, taking the trunk off above his head, in pieces.

I still feel very sorry that such a lovely tree has to go.

Wrong Link!

The link to my daughter's blog is www.mousenotebook.blogspot.com

I seem to have made a mess of doing the link!

I'm a Great Grandmother!

If you are a follower of my daughter's blog you will know she is a grandmother - whichmakes me a Great Grandmother!

I feel very old with this title, and feel there should be a bit more deference to my age and wisdom within my family ;)




But she is adorable! Her name is Imogen. I am sure she is going to be a delightful little girl.

Unlike my daughter, I am unable to crochet or knit anything useful!

Candles

"Quick, quick" said the bird,
"the white candles are lit
on the great chestnut tree"


The above is a Haiku from "Through the letter box", by George Bruce, illustrated by Elizabeth Blackadder.




I love Elizabeth Blackadder's paintings and illustrations. Especially her flowers





"


and her cats.






Tree flowers do not last very long: they bloom, do their job of getting fertilized and then go. And throughout the summer their fruits ripen slowly, until we are sweeping up little winged seeds from the Sycamore, and boys are bashing the Horse Chestnut trees for the conkers!

Like English summer days, and life generally, we must make the most of it while it, whatever 'it' is, lasts!