The ancestral bed

This week we had an overnight stay at my brother and sister in law’s house.  The bed we slept in was the first we ever owned, I begged it from my parents when we bought our first house around 1973.    The bed lived on the farm in a room above the kitchen which had its own separate very steep staircase. When I was a child one of our farm workers slept in there and when he’d left my Gran sometimes used the room as it was slightly warmer than all the other unheated bedrooms.

It was a black iron bed with a mesh base and a worse for wear feather mattress when we took possession.  MrFF made a new ventilated wooden base, we bought a new Dunloppilo mattress and painted the frame matt white. I wish I had more photos, this is the only one I can find.

After a few years we bought a new bed and the old one was relegated to the guest room.  It then travelled to several homes with us until we downsized from Scotland 11 years ago when I persuaded my brother to take it for his new bungalow because I couldn't bear to part with it.  It’s now painted silver and still going strong. We slept in it this week and mentioned next morning how comfortable it was.  My sister in law told me that the grandchildren love a sleepover in the old bed and always remark on it.  I think it’s just wonderful, I’ve no idea how old the heavy metal frame is but I know for certain that the great great grandmother of the youngest generation slept in that bed and possible even older ancestors.   The continuity is amazing and a fine example of sustainability. 

Suddenly I am popular

I don’t court blog popularity and while I appreciate my audience reading and leaving comments I mainly write my blog for myself as a kind of journal.  At most each post was getting maybe 1000 reads but over the years that gradually dropped to around 200 or less.  While a lot of my favourite bloggers turned to YouTube or give up I happily soldiered on.  

So it was quite a surprise in the last week to see my views start to rise.  My latest not particularly interesting post has had 2,500 views which I think is quite suspicious though comments have only been from the usual sources.  I wonder if anyone else has noticed such a large and sudden pattern change.  Do we put it down to bots AI or some alien interference and why do the ramblings if a 76 year old who doesn’t get out much attract such attention.

Scorched earth

For over 2 weeks now the North York Moors have been burning, a wild fire covering  over 2,500 acres keeps spreading sending acrid smoke as far as Whitby, Scarborough and York. Holiday makers have been evacuated and livestock moved to safety, many roads around the moor are closed.   Fire services work continuously with help from local game keepers and farmers who have left their jobs to ferry tankers of water to the fire service and dig out fire breaks to hold back the flames.  These are the farmers who are constantly persecuted by our government, the same government that has so far provided zero support to the fire fighting effort.  Locals are collecting donations of food and water for the workers and money to help pay for the fuel used by the farmers.  

Photo from BBC website 

The North York Moors is my old training ground, The Cleveland Way, The Lyke Wake Walk, MrFF and I were out there most weekends when we lived in North Yorkshire. I learnt how to pace myself to run uphill at Carlton Bank.  The loss is already enormous, grazing for animals, wildlife, flora and fauna habitats and still it goes on. The peat can smoulder for weeks and recovery will take years.  It’s heart breaking.

We keep hoping for rain, there was a little yesterday but we need a deluge to dampen the fire.  MrFF took this photo of Scar House reservoir in neighbouring Nidderdale on Sunday.  Already our water authority is taking water from our rivers as supplies dwindle.

Knitting now - lethargically

During the various heatwaves we’ve enjoyed lately there hasn’t been much knitting done but now it’s cooler I am back into wearing socks and trousers so work has resumed.

I knitted more of my neighbour’s handspun into a cable scarf which pleasingly avoids having a wrong side simply by crossing the stitches on alternate sides, genius.  Again the yarn varied a lot in thickness which was particularly noticeable on the garter stitch edge, the scarf is bulky and quite scratchy, to be worn outside a coat not against the skin.

I also used up some 4 ply pure wool to make a lacy Falling Water scarf which does have a wrong side but I made it long so it can be arranged to avoid showing the reverse.  This project took some concentration but it’s a really nice scarf in good colour.   It took about 120 g of yarn and I am left with at least 50 still to use.

However it’s time for socks, I am making these for a friend who particularly requested a red pair. I cast on last night with my favourite West Yorkshire Spinners Signature and my new appropriately matching Knitpro needles.  It’s a joy all round, the needles are smooth and comfortable to use, I am able to knit while paying attention to the tv, it’s all very relaxing.

Hot and cold

Last week MrFF took himself off to North Wales to climb Snowdon the highest  mountain there.  He booked himself into a Youth Hostel overnight, we are life members. His hike was successful, he said he slept well in his lower bunk and came  home with a stinking cold.  He admitted the guy sleeping above him, a Belgian lad, had coughed most of the night,  I wasn’t too worried. I haven’t had a cold for years despite contact with contagious people.   I pride myself on my excellent immune system which I reinforce by at least 30 seconds of cold water at the end of every shower.  A couple of days after the wanderer’s return my throat was a bit itchy, then my nose was running, finally the cough started.  That was a week ago, I am only just recovered.

Meantime temperatures here have rocketed, 30 degrees on Wednesday.  It’s not been the ideal time for me to enjoy the sun, I’ve been weak and feeble, not sleeping because of the cough, tired and tetchy.  We all know who’s to blame, £16 for a bed wasn’t a bad price but hardly the bargain he expected. Here are some photos from the walk, much nicer to see than any of my red nose.

Pensioner in disguise

It was the Ilkley half marathon recently, MrFF and I were out on the route encouraging the participants of all abilities.   It was a hot day and I was impressed by the smart kit worn by many of the women particularly the elite runners.   Cropped tops that I assume were also sports bras, cut out vests and much flattering figure hugging lycra.

Later I had a discussion with a friend I used to run with more than 30 years ago.  We reminisced that in our day there was very little stylish kit for women.  Mostly we wore Ron Hill men’s freedom shorts, which were brief and flappy, never intended to fit the female form.  In winter we had Ron Hill tracksters which were slim jogging trousers with stirrups to stop them springing up, a bit like ski pants for those who remember. The only item specific to women was very brief track shorts that looked like knickers.  I never wore those, far too revealing and clingy.  Sometimes our club would send a driver to the Nike factory on Tyneside to buy seconds, a guy would turn up at the training track with a selection of male oriented kit in the boot of his car. Finding anything that fit wasn’t easy, you bought what you could and style wasn’t an option.

How times have changed, there are dedicated running shops everywhere even chain store brands have lots of great sports gear.  Now on my power walks I step out in colourful and comfy Lycra leggings that fits like a second skin.

I have lovely soft stretchy cycling type shorts with pockets.  Nothing I ran in had pockets, on fell races I used to stuff a photocopy of the map in my bra, not that I could read a map and yes I got lost a few times.  Obviously this modern clothing is unforgiving but since I got below 9 stone thanks to my dental work I feel confident whilst acknowledging that at 76 it’s hardly age appropriate.  But equally power walking up and down the valley till I am red faced, hot and sweaty isn’t the norm either.

I am at a stage in life when I wear what I like.  I may have succumbed to elasticated waists but I embrace shorts and camisoles, sleeveless tops and strappy sundresses when I have a tan, I love bright colours and rarely wear black because it makes me disappear.  Recently I bought a pair of python print skinny trousers, I’ve already worn them to the supermarket and I didn’t get asked to leave. 

It’s my opinion that if you can you should for as long as possible, I don’t know of an age bar to wearing Lycra.  If this lovely modern kit had been so easily available 30 years ago I am sure I’d have run a lot faster and happier. 

Nature update

Before we left Italy I posted Here about the huge flower stalk on an agave which I hoped would still be open when we return.  MrFF had been checking our security camera and here it is in flower, it looks spectacular.

He also showed me on the camera archive that three pine martens had been playing among my pots at the back door of our house.  Sadly neither of us can get the video to transfer to blogger or capture a still. Last year we saw one pine marten, these three seem quite young so maybe they are the kits.  They were having such a jolly time chasing each other and climbing in and out of pots at 3 am in the morning.  Like the bats they are protected in Italy and not known for causing any damage in the garden.  Here’s a photo taken from the internet, the ones we have are just as adorable and very welcome visitors.