One of my closest friends is out in South Africa at the moment, taking in the Victoria Falls, Cape Town, a big game safari...
Meanwhile, my husband and I planned an expedition to Sudbury, a small market town some fifteen miles north of here. The plan was to take the train there - and cycle back. Trains go off on a little branch line which must have once been the norm over most of Britain. How this one survived is a mystery.
The day dawned to thick fog, but this was promised to burn off by late morning so we set out to cycle to our local station. Our faces stung with cold as we reached the platform. Then we saw that the train we had planned to take had been cancelled. What to do? In the end we just whiled away the hour until the next train, probably allowing the fog to burn away.
Once at Sudbury, we made our way to the Henny road, down the valley of the Stour. This concrete structure is a pill-box, one of many put there to protect against threat of invasion.
We enjoyed the many ancient farms, cottages and churches on the route, but were most pleased to see two hares running across a field, something we have never seen before. March hares, perhaps?
Half-way home is the Thatchers' Arms, and very welcome it was too. We had bubble and squeak with a fried pigeon breast, black pudding and a poached egg - the kind of food one could imagine local cottagers eating for supper on good days. It certainly hit the spot as expedition fare.
After another hour's cycling, down into the Colne valley and then up and over into the valley of the Blackwater; we were on the home stretch. It gave us ideas for further trips - once the saddle soreness wears off.
Knitting
This is half of my latest throw, now nearing completion. The length of the most complex panel - Nennir by Lucy Hague - had to dictate the length of all the strips, so extra repeats have had to be added to some.
A thought did occur to me about the significance of the Celtic knotwork, with its illusion of infinity. Some religious buildings include a maze, to aid meditation. What if these designs were to be used like mazes, only without the need to walk the lines?
Meanwhile, my husband and I planned an expedition to Sudbury, a small market town some fifteen miles north of here. The plan was to take the train there - and cycle back. Trains go off on a little branch line which must have once been the norm over most of Britain. How this one survived is a mystery.
The day dawned to thick fog, but this was promised to burn off by late morning so we set out to cycle to our local station. Our faces stung with cold as we reached the platform. Then we saw that the train we had planned to take had been cancelled. What to do? In the end we just whiled away the hour until the next train, probably allowing the fog to burn away.
We enjoyed the many ancient farms, cottages and churches on the route, but were most pleased to see two hares running across a field, something we have never seen before. March hares, perhaps?
Half-way home is the Thatchers' Arms, and very welcome it was too. We had bubble and squeak with a fried pigeon breast, black pudding and a poached egg - the kind of food one could imagine local cottagers eating for supper on good days. It certainly hit the spot as expedition fare.
Knitting
This is half of my latest throw, now nearing completion. The length of the most complex panel - Nennir by Lucy Hague - had to dictate the length of all the strips, so extra repeats have had to be added to some.
A thought did occur to me about the significance of the Celtic knotwork, with its illusion of infinity. Some religious buildings include a maze, to aid meditation. What if these designs were to be used like mazes, only without the need to walk the lines?
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2 comments:
Your trips always look like such fun from here. We are still snow covered. Interesting thought re. the knotwork. Working the patterns requires a kind of meditative concentration, no mind wandering.
i love your description of your meal and can imagine just how welcome it was after your trip. ( and I rather like Sudbury too).
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