Remember Me?

In the middle of Morecambe Bay

Well it's been a while hasn't it?  No excuses, let's just get stuck into a quick overview of what's been happening since May.  (MAY??!!).  Right (deep breath) since my last post we have: been up Helvellyn via the Thirlmere route - just as far but fewer tourists & more sheep; been back up the Old Man - well at least that was the plan, we ended up walking every ridge around the Old Man whilst deftly avoiding the chap himself; walked across Morecambe bay from Arnside to Kent's Bank - a lot flatter than the Old Man but a bloomin' long way through soft sand; completed a historic tour of Grange learning all about the history of the place from its beginings as a farm village, through to WW2 when the Germans bombed a house containing two evacuees sent to Grange to avoid the blitz, just because you're not paranoid it doesn't mean they're not out to get you; played host to our first overnight guests - my nephew & his fiancee; played host to our second over night guests - my lovely in laws; played host to two additional guests in our garden in the shape of two cheeky deers munching away on our apple trees; lost the "who can eat all the blackcurrants first" race against the local birds; celebrated Steve's 40th birthday in style with fish & chips and champagne; watched the Red Arrows zoom over our heads at the Windermere air show and have generally had lots of fun settling in to our new surroundings.

Garden Visitors

We've not exactly managed a Wainwright a week but we've been pretty darned close and have done lots of other things besides.  Over four years we lived in Fleet and right up until the end you could have dropped us 5 miles from home in certain directions and we would have been completely lost, whereas up here we're whizzing around like locals already.  Mind you I suppose the fact that there are far fewer roads helps enormously!

I've also spent time pondering the meaning of the term 'local'.  I've noticed that born and bred Cumbrians are very territorial and don't always take too kindly to us "offcomers" (as they call us.)  But what does it take to be classed as a local?  I regularly play the "Steve grew up around here" card to help worm my way into people's affections, and it really helps that his mum was a teacher at the local village school, but why do I need to?  I'm used to the South East which is one enormous melting pot/ simmering couldron (depending on which newspaper you read) of people from all over the place, and no one really bothers much about where you come from - but up here it's really not like that.  The truth is we will *never* be local in some people's eyes as illustrated by a recent conversation I had with a lovely elderly, and very local, lady.  We were discussing the guy who conducted the historic tour of Grange and she informed me that he wasn't local due to the fact that although he was born here his parents weren't.

Even have a spring after heavy rain!

So where would I be considered local?  Not where I grew up as I've spent more of my life living somewhere other than there and anyway I now speak "too posh" to pass myself off as one of Darlaston's daughters.  I would never have considered myself local to the South East as I didn't live anywhere down there for longer than 6 years, I guess I just couldn't find anywhere where I felt settled.  So that leaves here, where apparently the indigenous population don't want me to be local despite the fact that I live and work here.  I realise that after 3 months any attempts to claim to be local are laughable - but how long does it take before a serious claim can be made on local status?  Several generations according to some people.

And once you've gained 'local' status, how far do you have to go before you make the transition from 'local' to 'tourist'?  For instance we live right at the bottom of the Lake District - so when we visit Ambleside or Keswick are we then tourists?  It's all terribly confusing!

I'll settle for the fact that I feel happier and more at home here than I have done anywhere for a very long time.  I love the views, I love the local shops, I love our mad little "biddy" bungalow, I love our garden full of fruiting trees and bushes - even though we haven't managed to eat much of anything yet, and I love the train journey across the Kent Estuary, especially this time of year when I can watch the tourists stare wide eyed at the fells in the distance as we glide along a few feet above the water.  Well, I say tourists, who knows where their parents were born?  Maybe, like me, they're lost souls just waiting for a kindly county to take them in.

There's a thousand things I should be doing right now...

But isn't that always the way?  To be honest there's not so much excitement in my life right now so there's not so much to write about, but still it seems a shame not to keep tabs on what's been going on.  I think it's fair to say that the honeymoon is over weather-wise!  When we got the keys to the house the weather treated us to a glorious few weeks of sun, I even became convinced that Grange really was the "Torquay of the north" (as someone told me), but over the past week or so the weather has reverted to what I assume is more normal and today, as I type, there's a gale blowing outside and rain lashing against the windows - perfect spring weather.

Since living here we've been getting used to the pace of life, it's definitely a lot slower than down south.  We need our driveway sorting so contacted the local builder for a quote, he came and took a look right away but we're still waiting on the quote - that was nearly 4 weeks ago.  Then we contacted the local tree surgeon regarding some out of control trees in the garden, he promised to get back to us - that was over 2 weeks ago.  Even when I needed the garden shears sharpening (not something I've ever done before moving here) I went to the shop in town with the big sign outside telling me I could get my 'Tools Sharpened Here' - but apparently that part of the business has been closed for over 2 years and they just haven't gotten around to taking the sign down yet.  Undeterred I headed for the next village and found out it will take over a week to get them done.  I'm not complaining at all, in fact I rather like the laid back approach to it all (although the drive really does need doing quite soon), but it does take some getting used to.  Shopkeepers will usually stay and chat a while, even if there's a queue, and the only people who appear to get wound up are the tourists, it really is a lovely way of life once you get used to it.

Grizedale - I swear there's a red squirrel in thispic

We've also been getting out and about.  Since I last wrote we've explored Grizedale Forest, including a short hike up Carron Crag.  Grizedale Forest looks like an excellent place to take the bikes back to once the apocalyptic deluge has finished (hmmm - maybe the Rapture *did* happen on Friday and Satan has figured out the best way to torture the British is with wet rainy weather?).  We've also set ourselves a target of a "Wainwright a week" but we are including all of his walks here and not just the really big hikes so there shouldn't really be any reason why we can't achieve it.  We worked out that if we did one major Wainwright peak a month it would take us nearly 18 years to complete them all, you have to admire the man and everything that he achieved.  We've no interest in simply "bagging" the peaks; we're more interested in using the books to make sure we discover the whole Lake District and not just the main tourist bits.  We've also signed up for historical town walks and a hike across Morecambe Bay, so we really are doing our best to immerse ourselves into Cumbrian life and culture - though hopefully we don't get too immersed on the cross bay walk.

View from the quarry on the Old Man

Last weekend we headed for the Old Man of Coniston as I've a big soft spot for the lake and wanted to get a better view of it.  The walk starts out well enough; a very pleasant stroll along the beck out of Coniston but then quickly gathers momentum after a major intersection of paths.  The last part is part walk and part scramble as you make your way to the trig point at the top.  Luckily for me we stopped for a breather close to the summit and got a magnificent view of the entire lake below us.  I say 'luckily' because by the time we reached the summit the clouds had descended and there was nothing to see, still we sat huddled behind a wall in a howling gale eating our pies and bracing ourselves for the hike back to the car.  On the way down the heavens opened and we got to try out our waterproofs properly for the first time, by the time we got back to the car everything was dripping wet, but we were still warm and dry underneath it all.  Not sure I'd ever set out for a hike in torrential rain, but I certainly won't worry about getting caught out now - the only thing that was sodden were our gloves and they soon dried out when we got home.

As for Monty, well he's pretty much back to his old self now and wandering in and out of the house again, although we have noticed he doesn't tend to go too far these days and he actually comes when he's called - not something he's ever done before, so maybe he learned a few useful lessons on his big adventure.

Anyway, one or two of those "thousand" things I mentioned earlier really do now require my attention, so as the rain hammers down against my windows I shall wish you a "Happy Monday" and here's to next week's Bank Holiday!

Return of the Prodigal Cat

Did you miss me?

Yes, we have killed the fatted Whiskas!  The good news is that Monty finally returned home exactly 2 weeks after he left and we are, of course, utterly delighted.  All he's done since he got back is to eat and sleep, but he's been given a clean bill of health by the vet so we just need to look after him while he regains his weight and generally recovers.  He was covered in tics and very thin when he got back, but appeared otherwise fine, and over the past day or so we've begun to see signs of his old mischevious self returning so not long now until we can put this whole thing behind us.  Where he went is anyone's guess but the top theory is that he first helped the Easter Bunny out with his deliveries then headed down to London for the wedding and a party at the palace before joining a covert US military mission somewhere near Islamabad - but of course he's saying nothing.  Military training and all that.

Ullswater from Howtown

He now enjoys a sort of celebrity status in Grange-over-Sands as everyone knows about him and has been watching out for him.  When Steve went to take the posters down he was continually stopped by people asking if Monty was OK and whenever we've met new people we've been able to introduce ourselves as the people who lost the cat.  In fact I've just got back from the Docs (where I've been diagnosed with a shocking case of shin splints) and when he asked if I'd been doing more hill walking than normal I began my reply with "well, you know that cat that went missing..." and he completely understood.  I've now been grounded alongside Monty for at least the duration of this weekend - boo hiss!.  I would like to add that if anyone reading this is unfortunate enough to lose a pet I can strongly recommend the people at Animal Search UK - absolutely amazing support and lovely people too.

A hidden away lake - but which one..?

It's hard to remember what else we've been up to since the last post - most of it has involved looking for a cat - but inbetween times we found time to sneak off and discover more of our wonderful surroundings.  We took a drive up to Glenridding last week then caught the steamer to Pooley Bridge and walked the whole way back along Ullswater.  A stunning walk, but a little longer than expected, my overly optimistic view of how far we could walk in an afternoon was largely to blame, but it was a glorious afternoon and we stopped for a picnic along the way - and isn't that what adventures are all about?  We also had another adventure back at Rannerdale where we actually got to see the bluebells in full flower this time, if you're ever in the Lakes in bluebell season it's somewhere you really must try and see.

Rannerdale Bluebells

Talking about people visiting the Lakes we've been quite puzzled by the movement of tourists around the area.  Cumbria is the third largest county in England, each year we get somewhere in the region of 12 million visitors and pretty much all of them head for the same places - Bowness, Ambleside, Keswick, Glenridding and Scafell Pike.  No wonder they think the place is crowded!  You can barely breathe in Bowness on a sunny Sunday but a short drive away you can find yourself next to a peaceful lake with barely another soul in sight.  I can't quite understand why people pour out of cities at the weekends to escape the "hustle and bustle" then all wedge themselves into the same small lakeland towns.  Of course I'll not mention here where all the best spots are because then everyone will go there instead and they won't be the best spots any more will they?  Mind you, most people seem of the opinion that a day out isn't complete without a trip around the shops and as most of my favourite spots don't have shops, I'm probably quite safe.

We've even started to give our own names to places, there's so many peaks around here that it's hard to remember which is which was you go by, so we've invented a few of our own.  As you drive along Thirlmere (a truly gorgeous lake but one that just gets driven past as people whiz from Ambleside to Keswick) if you look up you can spot "thumps up mountain" sitting just behind it, the top of which looks for all the world like a hand giving a thumbs up sign.  Maybe when I discover the real name for the peak I'll find out that it's an ancient norse translation of "thumbs up"...  There's also the memorable path we took down from Rannerdale Knott, which wasn't really a path at all and which I came down largely on my backside, earning it the nickname "Bum Plummet".  Steve came up with that one and I think it's truly one of the finest names for a descent I've ever heard and I may well mention it to the chaps at the Ordinance Survey.

So here we are back at the weekend again.  Luckily for me the weather forcast is pretty grim which means I won't be chomping at the bit quite so much to get out and about and my leg may just get the time it needs to heal.  Or is it 'heel' when it's shin splints?  Either way I am destined to drive Steve to distraction as I have the patience and attention span of a gnat and am not at all easy company when I'm confined to quarters.  Perhaps I'd better behave in case he takes a leaf out of Monty's book and heads off into the woods for a few days to escape me, although I'm pretty sure I could lure him back quite quickly with a bowl of custard.  Hmmm - I wonder if those nice people at Animal Search UK can help finding lost husbands..? Worth a go, although until I get him microchipped there's probably not a lot they can do to help.

Still at Large

Have you seen this cat?

Well we hope he's still at large somewhere because he's still not here.  It's been over a week now since he was last seen by a neighbour over the road, he jumped over their wall and was believed to be heading in the direction of Eggerslack Woods and Hampsfell, both of which are places where a bonkers cat could easily live off the land for a while.  Apprarently it's really common for cats to go AWOL for upto a month or more when they've just moved house, which is comforting in some ways, but to be honest we're finding it hard to buy that one.  Monty has always been a very home-loving cat.  Even after he'd spent 6 weeks cooped up in Delores with us last summer he spent every night of the next week still sleeping on our bed.  Still, we haven't given up hope just yet, there are posters of him up around the village, he's got his own twitter account, we've distributed nearly 200 leaflets and spoken to many of our new neighbours, he has a slot in the local village magazine out this week, all the local vets & rescue centres have been informed, Animal Search UK have him on their website, we've spent countless hours wandering through the woods shaking a tub of his favourite treats and we have told *everyone* we know, so at least if he doesn't return we'll know we did absolutely everything we could to try and find him.  After a week of frantic activity trying to find him and pursuing activities to distract ourselves today we're having a very lazy day crashing out and watching movies.  This easter break was supposed to be all about relaxation and settling in to our new home, but life often doesn't work out the way you planned, does it?

Hospice Hamspfell

Apart from hunting for Monty we've tried to take full advantage of the fabulous weather and have been out and about exploring The Lakes.  First off was a trip up Hampsfell which is right on our doorstep.  A 20 min walk brings you to the very top of Hampsfell, a place with magnificent views from Blackpool Tower in the south across to Skiddaw in the north.  At the top of Hampsfell is the Hospice which is a large stone shelter with some very rickety steps up the side to a viewing platfrom on the top.  From here you can gaze out at the glorious views and make good use of the mountain identification contraption which consists of a large wooden pointer mounted on a plinth with degrees marked around the side.  When you swing the pointer to aim at a given peak in the distance you can check the degrees reading under the pointer and cross reference this with a list of peaks handily attached to safety fence to identify which peak you're peeking at.  We've been up and down Hampsfell a few times over the past week but I don't think it's a place you're easily bored with...

Our yomps have also taken us over the fell to Cartmel with it's fabulous pudding shop and even more fabulous cheese emporium.  I'm glad we can walk over there as I quite fancy a trip to Cartmel races but it's a tiny little village and I can only begin to imagine what traffic chaos ensues every time the races are on.  We have one of those amazing picnic backpacks so we can fill it with goodies and a bottle of something pink & fizzy and spend a pleasant afternoon/ evening at the races before taking a lovely evening stroll home over the top of the fell.

Heading further afield we've been up to Rannerdale in search of their bluebells, unfortunately we were a little early for them but we're planning to head back later this week to try again.  Our search for the bluebells took us to the top of Rannerdale Knott where you are perfectly positioned to see Buttermere spreading out below you to one side, Crummock Water wrapping itself around you on the other side and Lowes Water twinkling away in the distance.  Beyond there, on a clear day, you can see all the way across the Solway Firth to the hills of Scotland on the horizon, so close you can almost smell the haggis.  We actually made the drive to Rannerdale on the lovely warm and sunny Easter Sunday, all the locals had warned us about the traffic and our planned route took us right through the centre of Bowness, Arnside and Keswick, a slightly mad idea but we wanted to see what "bad traffic" looked like up here.  I think our verdict is that although the traffic was undeniably heavy, for two people who've spent the past 20 odd years of their life tackling various routes around the M25 in the rush hour it was always going to take a lot to impress us on that front.  Yes, the journey times are longer but I'd rather work my way through heavy traffic up here when I've got gorgeous scenery to look at along the entire route than sit in 4 lanes (or more) of stationary traffic on a wet Friday afternoon on the M25.

Crummock Water

And that's about it for now - hunting for Monty has taken up a lot of our time this week, but it has meant we've got to explore bits of Grange that we wouldn't ordinarily have found and has given us the chance to get to know many of our new neighbours, most of whom are utterly delightful.  Of course there's been an emotional impact to losing Monty, mostly an understandably huge wave of sadness.  This is also tempered on occasion by anger at the thought someone may have taken him, or know where he is and also hurt at the thought he may have been adopted by someone else who he prefers to us.  Either way it's not pleaseant and we'd really just like him to come home.

Blogflash - Missing Monty

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS CAT?

*** OLD POST  Monty turned up alive & well 2 weeks after vanishing. ***

I know it's a pretty long shot that someone reading this will live near enough to us to help, but life is just wierd like that sometimes, so it's worth a go.  The eponymous hero of this blog, Monty, has gone missing.  We kept him indoors for over 2 weeks before finally allowing him out and about last week and at first he was very jumpy and took things very carefully. However he's now not been seen in over 24 hours, which isn't like him at all - he's a home loving cat even if, like most cats, he often only appears to love his home because that's where the food is.

There's a few pics of him already on here and I'll upload a few more - but if you know someone, or know someone who knows someone, who lives near Grange-over-Sands in Cumbria, can you let them know to be on the look out for a British Blue cat with a stunted face and a small baldspot in the middle of his back.

As Clarkson might put it "Some say he's nothing but a furball who eats all our food, and others say he has deluded dreams of one day leading a pack of big cats across the plains of Africa, all we know is he's called The Monty and we miss him."

Thank you.

Home, Home on the Range.

View from the kitchen at the front.

We may not have deer & antelope, but we do have a deranged cat - will that do?  Well I think I can finally say "welcome to our new home" properly.  Not that I've just recovered from a speech impediment or traumatic trip to the dentist, I mean it more in the context that we finally have all our stuff up here and it really feels like "our" home now.  As promised all boxes have been opened and dealt with, many have been unpacked, but others have been opened and stashed in our dungeon.  Depending on the weather this weekend I may spend a chunk of time down there sorting through them in greater detail and making a list of their contents on the outside of the box to allow for easier access over the next couple of years until we can convert the dungeon and finally release their contents back into their natural habitat.

To fill you in on what's happened since the last blog, we spent the Monday frantically packing things onto the big yellow removals van and cleaning the floors and skirting boards till the place sparkled.  We then raced north arriving home (!) around 8pm.  On the Tuesday the removal guys arrived and by lunchtime it was all done.  Waving them off on their long journey south we set to it sorting the boxes.  It took a couple of goes to get the furniture layout just right, seeing what would fit and what needed to be stored, but with that sorted the box-fest began in earnest.  The frantic box opening lasted until the weekend and gave us the opportunity to discover the location of the nearest dump where we quickly realised we're now in the land of "It's only open on...".  It feels rather lovely to be somewhere where many shops and amenities are closed on Sundays (bar the tourist places of course) and where you have to travel some distance to find somewhere open 24/7.  I know of at least one family member who will recoil in horror at the very thought, but it makes us very happy.  I've always worried about the people who have to work all hours in those places and have known several people in the past who rarely see their spouses for weeks at a time when they're on opposite shifts - that can't be healthy, can it?

Our new garden

After the frantic unpacking, phase 2 kicked in - notifying everyone of our change of address.  Most of our friends and family were easy enough to do as we could just drop them an email, but then all the official places needed to be done, and there's just no consistency in how they need us to do it.  My bank refused to let me do it online so I had to nip into a local branch with my driver's licence whereas Steve's bank were happy to let him do it online.  Some places were happy with an email, others required a letter.  Some were happy with a phone call, others required a form to be filled in, in triplicate, in blood.  OK, I may have embellised that last part a little, but anyone who's ever had to go through this will understand exactly what I mean.

Then finally, in amongst all of that, the internet arrived and we were finally reconnected to the outside world.  It's an absolute joy to be able to surf the net and catch up with everyone without sitting in a bar with a football match going on over our heads. (The only sensible place to plug in at the campsite was under the large TV that always seemed to be showing some footie game or other, and here's me thinking they only played on Saturday afternoons!)  I can now officially surf the web, catch up with my friends and write this blog whilst sitting at my dining table wearing my PJs. It's the little things that make me happy.

As well as unpacking I've been getting used to my new commute, which has been complicated by the temporary closure of the Kent Estuary viaduct and means I have the pleasure of a bus replacement service until the middle of July.  It's turned a 50 minute train ride into a 90 min journey, but rather that then plunge into the Kent Estuary from a poorly maintained bridge.  It's given me the chance to get to know the geography of the area a little better, plus, as the bus drops me off at Carnforth station, I get to run up and down the ramps pretending to be Celia Johnson.  (If you've never watched "Brief Encounter" now's the time to do it - a large part of the action takes place at a busy railway station and Carnforth is where they filmed it.  If you're interested they've restored the tea rooms and have a small but lovely visitor's centre.)

My next mission is to join clubs and find friends.  I've tried chatting to all the shopkeepers when I pop in for things and I've tried looking in the local papers for clubs and stuff, but we've moved to a retirement community and many of the activites they organise take place during working hours.  I'm thinking of advertising for friends, but doesn't that look a little desperate?  I'm sure there are loads of lovely people around here who will be happy to welcome a freindly, if slightly bonkers, 40-something into their midst, all I need to do is find them.  I guess the first step would involve me getting out there and looking as opposed to sitting at my dining table writing my blog - so I'll be off then - Grange-over-Sands, brace yourselves, I'm on my way!

This blog has been intentionally left blank.

Well not completely blank - but isn't it annoying when you see that written on a page?  By it's very existence the phrase contradicts itself by rendering the page not blank any more.  Anyway...

I'm only trying to help!

This weekend is all about the big move.  After another bonkers week at work we drove all the way south on Friday (via my Mums) and arrived with Steve's parents around tea time.  It's so good to call it tea time again, I've spent 22 years living in the land of "breakfast, lunch and dinner" and now I've finally returned to a land where it's "breakfast, dinner and tea", although quite where a chip supper fits into that I'm not entirely sure.

Yesterday we returned to the house in Fleet, the first time I've been back there since we left early on 2nd Jan.  It felt a bit wierd at first but then I realised I didn't have time for feelings as we needed to get stuck into some serious housework.  Thankfully Steve's parents helped out by sorting the garden for us, Steve emptied the loft and the sheds and I cleaned everything.  Twice.  The place now glistens and sparkles with the exception of the floors, but I really didn't see the point in cleaning those when they're going to be trampled all over by removal men tomorrow. Tomorrow!  The big day is finally almost upon us and it's going to be big in every sense of the word.

Can someone give me a hand with this?

We'll need to be up and off from the parents soon after 7am, the removal guys are arriving at 8:30am, the final bits will then need to be packed and the lorry loaded before I can crack on and clean all the floors and skirting boards and leave the place in damned near perfect condition for our tenant who arrives on 15th April.  We'll then need to race the removal van 300 miles north and collapse in a heap with pizza and garlic bread (already and waiting in the freezer - I do like to plan ahead!).  Then on Tuesday we need to make a few minor tweaks to the furniture we already have in the bungalow and eagerly await the arrival of all our goodies from Fleet.  There will then be a period of intense nesting which will continue until all the boxes are opened and the contents properly dealt with.  I've no idea how people can still have unopened boxes 5 or even 10 years after moving.  Surely you've proven you don't need whatever is inside and can just donate it, unopened, to the nearest charity store?

In preparation for the events of the coming week we're spending today relaxing with family, eating huge amounts of food and playing silly games.  It's possible there may be a glass or two of wine as well.  Over the past few months there's been so much to think about, worry about and plan that each day I've restricted myself to planning and worrying about only the tasks that are due to occur that day, otherwise I'd have gone nuts ages ago.  Those who know me well would argue it would have been hard to tell if I had.  So today it's really nice to have nothing more to worry about than writing this blog and having fun.  And on that note I shall take my leave and wish you all a very Happy Mother's day!

Don't forget me!