The Year is Turning

In the last few days the clues that tell you that year is turning are adding up. Firstly we have had the Statues Fair in Ashby. A fair comes to town about the second weekend in September for four days. They set up the length of Market Street, arriving overnight Thursday. On day the street is a busy thoroughfare the next it is a Fair. It stays like that until the Sunday night where upon it disappears for another year.


Another clue is the thick mists associated with the slow moving high pressure zones at this time of year. The fog, it is thicker than a mist, burns off when the sun gets going but not until at least 10.30 or 11am. The overnight temperature is beginning to drop. The leaves of the Pumpkins are susceptible to the cold and very soon start to wither revealing the orange pumpkins that have been growing in the shade of the leaves. It is a bit of a surprise as what you get in the Pumpkin line. Often you get more than you think because one is lurking and you have missed it when checking the plants. Same goes for the French beans except the pods are green. All of a sudden the bean frame is covered with pods that were invisible a few weeks ago.

The final clues is the pleading from the females of the house that it is cold in the evenings. H's nose is the barometer. When it is cold she tries to stick it in my neck to warm it up. I always try to hold out starting the boiler until the 1st of October but it is a vain hope.

All the spuds are in

No blogs last week because I had to up early Monday to go to head office in London. It is a 5am start so early to bed on Sunday. Last Sunday turned out nice which allowed me to get the remainder of the main crop spuds "Cara" harvested. It has been quite dry and I was worried that the soil would be solid making harvesting heavy work. I should not have worried. The soil was quite friable. H left me to it this time. There was a little blight but not as bad as previous years. The Cara's were a good size. Ideal for baking which is H's favorite way of cooking spuds. Miss L tucks away a baked potato quick smart too. I have them all in the shed in sacks but now I am faced with storing the produce in such a way that we can get at everything easily.

I still have a lot of produce at the lottie, mainly brasicass and roots. Luckily they can live out until I need them. Now most the tall plants have been cut back or harvested I can now see the grape vines. I put them in a foot tall sticks with a few leaves and now all the white grapes are six feet tall and showing no signs of slowing down just yet.

I have not done any pickling this year so I need to get busy with that soon. The garage is full of saved jars which are starting to get in the way. I have been distracted with work but also with the new extension to the allotments. We had a chat with the site foreman about what he could do for us. We agreed a plan and that was last Friday. When I went up to check on the lottie on Friday lottie because I had been away most I found the contractors had made a start on preparing the site. They did up to the old plantation hedge line. I have spent a few hours this morning undoing the staples that held the wire to the posts. I managed to save 70 yards of strand wire but as yet I have not been able to salvage the wire rabbit fencing. I hope the contractors will be able to complete the other section soon. Steve and I can then set out the areas for the hard standings and paths. Where we get the stone fill and top soil from is a mystery at the moment but things have a way of turning up.

Weather, RollsRoyce, Spuds, Tendons and Rossi

Is the change of atmospheric conditions called "weather" because you don't know whether to go out or stay in?

The week was changeable so by Saturday it was promised to be fine all day and remain so on Sunday. I took a chance on Sunday remaining dry. I hoped that the sun and wind would dry the soil enough to let me harvest some more Potatoes. I have had a very tough few weeks at work and was quite low So H said we should go out. H had seen a piece in a local paper advertising an open day at the Rolls Royce works in Derby. We went along. It was really good. It was the Rolls Royce engineering and restoration club. They had all kinds of stuff from the earliest car and aero engines through to the early jet engines up to some quite modern fighter and passenger plane's jet engines. They had the sorts of Rolls and Royce, who incidentally, met and opened there first car works in Manchester, planes, cars, trucks, tanks, rocket motors and lots of bits of special machines and intricate engineering. The museum had every kind of Rolls related thing but the highlight was at 3pm.

Rolls Royce have a restored Merlin V24 aero engine as used in WWII in Spitfires, Hurricanes, Mosquitos and Lancasters. This one happen to be bolted to the frame and they run it. Three o'clock came and the assembled crowd were treated to the massive V24, 29 litre piston engine being started. It had a little cough and chuff as it was turned over by the starter motor before bursting into life with a deep roar. At first it ran quite rough but as it burbled along on the choke which when reduced settled down into a deep, throaty purr. After a few minutes of ticking over, which is quite fast on areo engines, they pulled the throttles open to run at much higher revs. The sound was visceral. It was not ear splittingly loud but loud with a deep resonance. We were stood about ten yards away. They had a cut down propeller on the motor, no doubt for balance and to give the motor a load, but even cut down to 18 inches the prop still sent a hurricane of wind back to the operators stood at the back of the engine. They ran the engine at different revs. It was quite a thing to witness. When the engine was shut down the crowd broke into a spontaneous round of applause. We then went to find the canteen. A cup of weak warm tea later, my spirit restored, by the event and no the tea, we trundled off home.

The gamble paid off. Sunday was dry. H decided that I needed watching so came along to the lottie. I set about the spuds and H did the French Beans. Incidentally the climbing French Beans have done very well but should have been picked weeks ago. I have been growing them up an "X" shape frame rather than the tradition wigwam or "A" frame. It has worked rather well but next year I will make the "X" more pronounced. When I was fencing last Tuesday I bent the end of my little finger with Martingale attached to my sword. It a french gripped foil which is not what I normal use. It did not hurt much, in fact it was not until I took my glove off at the end of the bout I noticed anything beyond a little discomfort. H made me go to the Doctor the next day and they sent me to Loughborough walk-in centre who duly pronounced I had snapped the tendon that controls the end joint of the little finger, right hand. I have to wear a split for two months. ow try an dig up spuds without sing your little finger of your dominant hand. It is a bugger especially when you know you should not flex your splinted finger. So I was digging with my pinky stuck out as if I was having high tea.

H decided that she fancied a go at digging the potatoes. H has a go every year. Her back is not up to that kind of exertion but she like to have a token go. She loves seeing them come up from the soil "like treasure, like treasure" she says as they come up on the tines of the fork. The soil is in beautiful condition so digging is not too hard but the spuds are in deep so a lot of soil has to be moved. I did the first row myself and half the second row. H did the remainder of the row. She was having fun digging spuds. She would dig up two plants worth I would then go through the soil again for the strays H missed and tidy the soil up as a seed bed, It is heavy work for H and she does not have a method so the potato bed looks like a pack of hounds have been digging for foxes. When H finished I went back over the area we had been tramping over, turning the soil and using the fork to restore the soil to a level surface, more or less. We sprinkled on some Clover seeds. I hope they germinate and start to grow before the year turns properly. The Clover planted as a green manure last year worked really well.

As luck would have it the MotoGP in America was affected the hurricane Ike and was delayed so much so I was able to watch it live on BBC2. Another result! I watched another master class by Rossi. He cements his position at the top of the points table. The next race is at Motegi, Japan in two weeks. I had to be out of the house for 5am on Monday so early to bed.

Lottie BBQ

We were blessed with sunny weather for the Allotment BBQ. Last year it was washed out. This year we had use of the community patio which served reasonably well but was a little small. Steve set up the "base camp" BBQ, the tables and the condiments, plates etc. Other folks added to it as they turned up. The usual plot holders turned up, the kids came along too and it nice to see that some folks brought along the parents so there was thirty odd people in attendance with ages from 4 to 60 something.

The BBQ took a bit to get going but that did not bother me. The kids went off in a big gang to explore and came back more or less in one piece and covered in Blackberry juice. We had a competition for the longest runner bean. I bought some cups, one for the adults and one for the kids. I made a fuss of the measuring and recording to make a event out of it. It raised the tension a little. It was a fairly close thing for the kids cup. The champion bean winners were presented with their cups by Steve in his role as Chairman. I made a short speech and we got on with partying.

Everyone drifted away to leave just Steve and I on the Patio with the remaindered bottles of wine. We let the Sun go down whilst we polished off a nice bottle of Merlot and the bottle white wine. and chatted about stuff only to be interrupted by assorted wild life. If they want wine they will have to get their own!

There is a story about how we got home but that is for another time.

Last Day and a Quick Week

We swung on extra day at Deepdale Hall. Chris took us to look at his converted Barn. Beautifully executed in the modern open plan style. The bedrooms and bathroom are down stairs and the lounge/diner upstairs.

H said goodbye the two old dogs that were always ready to petted and scratched whenever we would leave or return to the house. The drive home was uneventful. We came back via the A66 and turned south at the A1. A bit over five hours for the trip.


My brother pitched up on Sunday lunchtime to drop off his girls for the week. Miss L was still on the road from Cornwall. There was lots of squealing when Miss L finally pitched up. My second week off was a mix of allotmenting and chauffeuring the girls to various towns for shopping expeditions. H took them to Twycross Zoo one day and it was declared it was the best one they had ever been too. High praise indeed. The girls all got on well and were no trouble. It was a big day on Thursday as Miss L got her GSE results. She did really well and got what she needed to get into college. More squealing. We had a little celebration for her. She worked hard for it.

Howtown Hotel again?

Today was a much better. A day for walking. We decided to walk to the top of the big hill on the other side of the valley called Place Fell. We had walked near it several times. We walked over the same path to Boredale Hause and instead of turning right for High Street and Coast to coast we turned left up Place Fell. Luckily for us it was very windy and in the right direction which helped us climb to the summit at 2154 foot. It was really steep all the way up with bit of scrambling near the top. It was a full gale on the top but it gave wide views up Deepdale, over toward Kidsty Pike, across the valley the Hellvelyn range and down the valley to Penrith and the Eden valley beyond.
H introducing Glenridding in the valley bottom on the shores Ullswater.

Having taken in the view and took a few photos we then wandered downhill off Place Fell mainly to get out of the gale. We found a likely spot and had lunch overlooking Ullswater. Our next target was Howtown. Howtown and the Hotel of the same name are a couple of miles apart. Getting off the fellside down to Howtown was tiresome. A mile or so of very steep grassy hillside. the path was not much worn and with all the recent rain was very slippy. The Pooley bridge folk don't climb up the fells, they stroll by the water side path. We made it down without mishap. Howtown is just a few houses and a farm. We had decided that if all went well i.e. made good time, we would treat ourselve to a ride back to Glenridding on the steamer. We made good time and had time to spare so we walked up to the Howtown Hotel, round the back to the Walkers bar and had a large Sherry for me and a half a bitter for H. We sat in the garden enjoying the hot sun. As we were finishing up a couple of Geordie families turned up. It is not a big garden so there was lots of stepping on toes, excuse me, squeezing past, sorry pet, what you having and Darren get off that. Darren was about ten and ready for mischief. Within seconds of turning up he was already at the top ornimental rockery, the one that says "keep off, loose and slippy rocks" just past the sign that said "private garden". As I returned the our glasses and fat lass bellowed in my ear because I did not exist and her beloved was at least twenty foot away "They don't have Strongbow on draft pet" and to her dog at her feet, but still above the ring in my ears "where has he brought us". The place that "He" had took her obviously did not measure up.

H and I wandered over to the Ullswater Steamer landing stage just a short walk from the Howtown Hotel. As we got close we heard the tanoy of the steamer relaying safety messages. We quickened our step and were in plenty of time to join the back of the queue. We paid our tickets and settled down to enjoy the ride. As I sat down the tanoy explained they had a bar on board and as I looked about I saw that we were just by the companion way. As soon as the Raven slipped her mooring H and I took in their board of fair in the Saloon. We had a couple of Gin & Tonics and repaired to upper decks to enjoy the cruise. The ride back to Glenridding only took half an hour but it was most enjoyable. We had a nice chat about nothing in particular with a crew member on the way back. As we have loads of time in hand we hung about to see the Raven depart. A representative of every colour and creed got on that boat. I was sure something biblical was going to happen. As SS Raven slipped her moorings the new skipper set off but at the expense of some of the pilings. He bumped the boat on docking and ground the bulwarks on the way out. The boat won't last another hundred years with that sort of treatment. The chap we had been talking too just raised his eyes to the sky, shook his head and coiled down the ropes. Click HERE for info on the Ullswater Steamers.


We took a walk about Glenridding and found the famous climber pub The Traveller's Rest. It is very small and is known for good food and drink and often has live music. But it only holds about fifty people so it get packed really quickly and the wait for food or drink can be way too long. We got a couple of beers and sat out in the sun and people watched. It is a good spot for two reasons:

A. It is on a steep hill so getting in and out of the car park requires close control so it is good value watching to old dears doing hundred point turns, on the hill, with on audience.
B. It is on the path that leads to Hellvelyn. At this time of the evening everyone is coming down in various states of distress.

One crew of professional types had legged it down the mountain leaving their mate behind much to their amusement but he had all the cash. So no money for beer and The Traveller's don't do credit. After a loud "discussion" in the car park they decided to ring him. Glenriding is not Knightsbridge....no signal. Crest fallen they had to sit there waiting for their buddy. To add insult to injury they were shoo'd off the benches by folks who had cash to purchase a pint of the landlord best at the bar. When we left they were still sat there like a couple of sheep dogs waiting there master's footsteps on the drive. In all a splendid day however it was a long slog back to Deepdale from Glenriding. Drink just takes all the energy out of my legs. Still, I was very relaxed.

Wet Wednesday

I chickened out of the monster breakfast and just just a couple of fried eggs and bacon...and cereal...and toast..and Tea and some more toast and Tea. We could not even see the other side of the valley so no hill walking today. We lounged about then took the car to Penrith. Mooched about a bit more then sat in the car in a car park in Penrith wonering what to do next.

We thought lets have a look at Pooley Bridge which the village at the top of Ullswater. It like a mini Windermere. lots of gift shops and tea rooms. We went in one for a brew. See sat there, the staff walked past us. We some more but no one came so we left, a bit bemused. We stood on the bridge over the river. Looked over. No fish. Walked back to the car and that was Pooley Bridge. The weather had perked up. It was even sunny. We saw a sign for Martinsdale and took it. I did spot that Martinsdale was at the end of a five mile cul de sac and just at the end is a one in four hill. There is a church there and that is it. It was a peaceful spot so we took a short stroll. After all it had been a busy day so far an we did not want to over exert ourselves. We got back in the car and trundled back towards Pooley Bridge. We came to the sign for the Howtown Hotel which we had passed on the outward leg. It looked really smart. Being dressed for lounging about rather walking we presented ourselves in the lobby. It was a lovely Lakeland building probably constructed in the Georgian period, low, wide door nicely proportion rooms with names such as the Smoking Lounge and the Public Bar. The bar area was panelled in Mahogany with a hatch for drink to be passed to the waiting staff leading to long corridor to the Dining Room. The bar proper was panelled in yet more Mahogany with stain glass lights and the far side of the bar area was the Walker's bar. Stone flagged floors and built in wooden benches with a big fireplace at the far end, well the far end of a twelve foot square room, and all the bar served by the one little bar.


A very thin but beautiful Russian young lady, dressed all in black with jet black hair came to attend us. We asked for afternoon Tea. That would be no problem and would we like to be seated. She showed us into room off the lobby and would we mind waiting for Tea as the scones were not quite ready. The room was exactly what you would expect from a Jane Austin novel. We looked out across the view to Ullswater. We made ourselves comfortable, which was no great task. Presently the nice lady returned with tray of tea and scones and all the usual paraphernalia for high tea. The scones were still hot and light as a feather. Certainly in the same league as H's scones. We had very civilised hour or so. The Tinterweb says that the Hotel has been in the same family for 100 years. The same report said that the bedrooms do not have televisions or telephones. Sounds perfect.

Feeling that we had found a new favorite place we trundled off in the car, back through and excesses of Pooley Bridge and its adjacent camp sites back along the lakeside road back to Deepdale. An odd day overall. Still no sight of the top of High Street.