Fresh Air and February

 "Fresh Air"

Filey Daughter with once small boys now large boys still manages to get them out for Fresh Air every weekend , whatever the windchill in Filey . They often go to Cayton Bay or walk to Hunmanby Gap but this weekend Filey Country park was as far as they got. It was so cold. 

I am remembering how every Sunday afternoon in all seasons  our father would walk us up East Carr Lane to Fewlass's farm . At the time it seemed a monotonous dreary walk , a gravel farm lane , a few Windbreak trees only at Mr Baston's small holding  but always the promise of Sunday tea round the fire from the tea trolley.

 Sixty years later I am remembering the Yellow hammers and Skylarks, and occasionally the excitement of the tractor going past, but very rarely . Sunday was the day of rest . Sutton Golf Course was at one side of the lane as we walked over the bridge of Holderness Drain, but that held no thrall . Father walked slowly and we three girls were dutiful and polite, no running around , just a sedate stroll as we stopped occasionally to listen to the Skylark and guess where it would land . 

If one approached what one thought  was the nest site the lark could pretend it had a broken wing and hop off in a direction far a way from the nest . We could only walk in the field when the gate was left open, but we seemed to spend what seemed like hours standing and watching , trying to spot where the Lark had got her nest . 

It all seems so  magical now with hindsight . 

I am reading a delightful book which recalls all walks down the lane, and later all the walks in the Cotswolds near Cotswold Farm , where we stayed so many times with our small children in the 70s and 80s, watching Barn Owls and listening to noisy hedgehogs.

 The book , Meadowland : the private life of an English field by  John Lewis-Stempel is a delight , and responsible for my private delightful recalls . I could never describe East Carr lane to you , or Haycombe cottages nearby fields, enough to delight you the way John Lewis -Stempel does. That is why I am a humble blogger and he the 2015 winner of the Wainwright Prize . 

Grandsons will thankfully remember their fresh air walks when they are my age, beaches, cliff tops , and bracing wind:lots of it. They go home to tea too, to a log burning fire and warm beds , and like me probably late remembered Sunday Night Homework . Here I remember Your hundred Best Tunes with Alan Keith ,the BBC radio programme of Sunday evening choice for me , sitting in isolation in the dining room .with my Algebra and Latin verbs  .

Today I took a stroll to the Allotments , walking spouse to the Doctors for a  scan , I  had an hour alone before walking him back . I was glad he chose to walk, I would have taken the car , but he tried out pushing my Aged parent's Sholley on the icy pavements. I carried on with it to the plot , the Sholley being laden with heavy water bottles for hot drinks , prior to the Taps being on again. I loved being the first person to tread the snow. 

It too was a magical place. No rat footprints into the shed thankfully after my recent infestation, the Asparagus beds all snug under their straw , the temperature in the greenhouse at minus 1. 

I had hoped for the hot beds to be HOT but all my reading, planning and preparing has come to nothing . I shall have to try again . My friend Nigel has got his hot beds up to 47 degrees . I'm envious, but its Lent so I am going to learn from it.

From Everlasting to Everlasting

I'm listening to the Dream of Gerontius. It is the perfect mix of melancholy and hope . I'm feeling maudlin with due reason , as my Aged Parent died a good death last night. For the 9 years of this Blog I've often written about my trips to Beverley to visit her , take her to Communion, to Tesco's , to the Hospital , to the bank , and then just to see her. 

This perfect little town, a hours drive across the Wolds from here, has been a welcome and interesting stimulus for putting thoughts to e-paper. I drive  from Filey,through Hunmanby ,Burton Fleming, Kilham, Driffield and Leconfield. I was going to say I know every hedge and pond, but it would be better to say I know every place where the speed cameras catch One. I know that most of the way I have to drive quite slowly as the potholes at the edges of these country roads are lethal, I've already had to have the Volvos suspension( if thats the word) seen to. It could be that I went over the bumps on the allotment road too quickly, but I blame the stretch of road between Kilham and Rudston. On my return journeys from mother when I drove past the site of the Roman Villa on the Kilham to Rudston Road, always stopped and admired the view.  From Driff to Beverley it is the Leconfield road that catches the most speed merchants. I did get some points on my licence once  for going 37 miles an hour. I thought that a bit mean , but it did make me cautious from then on . The 50 mile an hour speed limit from Hutton to Beswick seems so slow. Often I opt to go by train to Beverley. If I went  to Hull to visit my sister and Primark  I always disembarked on the return journey and visited Mother  , had a coffee in CaffeNero , a walk round M and S and then back on the train . Beverley had everything for a daughter visiting a Mother in a Care Home, and was responsible for 2 years of good visits . The ambiance and History of the town always delighted me . (Note to self -keep going back , get to know the town in a new context!)

Whilst Beverley town  has been my balm in difficult days, my allotment remains as my constant and necessary balm for everydays and alldays.

Dave's Everlasting Flower bed

Many times I go from home to water the greenhouse in hot weather, to pick berries in the mellow months, to weed in the verdant ,weed frenzied months and to generally just look around and sit alone all the months . Its my place of SPACE, my retreat , and the place where I tell the time by the passing of the trains from Beverley every 2 hours, realise Ive been gone 2 hours and hurry home hoping Herons is still open .They are used to me with a basket trailing soil and full of assorted flowers and veg which I have to move on to  the counter whilst I find my purse.
My neighbour has been growing Everlasting Flowers,  now called Xerochrysum bracteatum  since they were got at by the taxonomic botanists in 1990 . I still call them Helichrysums , but then I still call the Mint Family, Labiatae instead of Lamiacea. I know what I mean.

My Clary Bed

I sit on my white plastic chair outside the greenhouse  and look out across my plot , Dave's Plot, Bernard's plot and Eddie's plot . I know it looks colourful at the moment as my sister went passed on the train and then told me so. My Clary and David's Everlasting flowers, Bernard's Michaelmas Daisies (just in bud), all our Sunflowers, and most importantly our free seeded Nasturtiums which David and I like, and Brian two plots away hates with a Vengeance.
Its been a good year for the Everlasting Flowers. I remember when Flower Arrangers like me would spend hours wiring them all, for the Dried Flower Arrangements I so loved in the 80s, but now  hate  . I hate them even more since visiting Aged Parent in Care Home . Everywhere one went they would be lurking , the shelf in the Visitors Cloakroom, the side tables in the sitting rooms , and in Mother's room when she first arrived . I caused that particular vase to have an accident .
Now I LOVE the way my allotment neighbour has dealt with them . Having grown them so that without blemish the large flower heads , just open enough to show their symmetry and beauty they are then picked and the heads thoroughly dried .They can make the summer last till the next time summer comes . And last they will in the way that Casa David and Jen are using them . They put them in a Goldfish bowl.

I am growing Kale for the first time ever. My Aged Parent grew it in row after row in Sutton on Hull in our large garden . I used to dread her saying just go and cut some Kale for dinner please Margaret Mary. I did not appreciate the way it was cooked. It would be boiled to death in lots of cold water brought up to the boil , and then a plate would be pressed on it to get the water out. Spouse remembers his mother cooking and straining the water off cabbage in just the same way . Thankfully nowadays we realise that the young Kale leaves  may be quickly stir fried, and it is a cut and come again veg for summer through to next summer  , everlasting till everlasting . M and S it must be said do the most delicious Kale crisps which are deep fried in Cashew Butter, but at £2 a small 30 gm bag they are not going to have my money very often .

As David remembers the sunshine all through the winter , I am going to remember my beloved Mother everytime I pick some Curly Kale .

Moving our books

Since we decided to downsize to the small family cottage in Old Filey ,Colin and and I have been sorting our books. We did the first sort in November, and removed all the novels that we knew we could easily get out of Filey Library if we wanted to re-read them. So the first 5 boxes went to charity shops .  Next came the first editions, my Lindsey Davis's, my Donna Leon's and Leo Walmsley's,  we gave those to my Cheshire Sister  as well as all the very old Family books with inscriptions that would only mean something to us. That sorted another couple of boxes. Since Christmas, as the next phase of serious thought began ,we have removed all the books from the cottage, this time about 100 large biographies, and books about London. Years of considered Holiday reading for the discerning guest, left quietly ;also detective novels, Margaret Drabble's hints of Filey novels and light classics that would only take a week to read, HE Bates to Jane Austen, and the quirky books Colin thought visitors might enjoy : Perfume, The Necropolis Railway, The day they kidnapped Queen Victoria, and A history of Madame Tussauds. My offerings were always  less esoteric 'Fossils of the Yorkshire Coast' and Roget's Thesaurus (for restful  Crosswords).

The First charity shop had to turn us away with yesterday's offerings. They simply couldn't cope with any more of our books! Colin didnt really want to push the Sholley (my aged parent left it with us) too far around Filey incase folk thought he had joined the Geriatrica. But the upside of this is that we both realise just how good a Sholley is. I shall use one as soon as I need one , but wear sunglasses. My children already avoid being seen with me in the street as they are embarrassed by my wicker basket on wheels.

Back to the mighty tomes.
Today , we did the second sort of the Kiaora Library. I am simply amazed that I managed to put ' Silver marks of the world' and all four novels of Graham Taylor's novels into a Charity Shop box. More still that daughter no 1 who is moving into our house says she will keep all my books from school on Literacy , Numeracy and all points History, Geography, pond life and Science.
 Just 16 shelves to go now. 3 of Poetry, and 2 of Christianity, 2 Classics,and 5 Plants and Animals, 4 of Pevsners , Maps and  all our Pelicans and Black Penguins. We can't stop now, we feel ruthless, and liberated, most of the time. The sooner Sue Ryder and St Catherine take possession of our offerings the more likely we are to carry on being sensible with the rest.
 Anyone want 12 boxes of my fathers 35mm slides of our garden in Sutton on Hull and our holidays from 1958 until 67 ?
H/T to Simon Lewin at All things considered for this