Archive | November 2018

A Walk with dogs, The Lune and St Michael

Beatifilly shown and recounted. Evelyn

The Silent Eye

The Lune Valley is always worth exploring. The river Lune rises as a stream near Ravenstone Dale, Cumbria, and gathers momentum and volume as it winds towards the sea at Lancaster and its one time port, Glasson Dock. Devil’s Bridge, above, is, perhaps its most famous landmark, and was once the main highway between Yorkshire and the north Lancashire region – prior to the rejigging of the ancient counties that created Cumbria from Westmorland and bits of old Lancashire.

It is near Kirkby Lonsdale that the Lune Valley is at its most beautiful. We jumped at the chance to be part of a sponsored walk along the river and duly met up with the other participants in the Sun Inn, in the centre of the town, where we began the day with the time-honoured breakfast of walkers: the bacon butty…

The landlord of the Sun Inn, himself a dog owner…

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First November Blog


First November Blog. (7-11-18)

A Song of November.

The sky is misty, coloured grey,

More leaves fall from the trees,

And darker evenings are here,

A chill in the air, and some freeze.

Daylight is shorter, in November,

We’ve lost the summer sun birds,

Meadows are quieter it seems,

Cows are gathering in herds.

Sheep bleat on crag and moreland,

Shivering as wind blows strong,

Bare beaches braving winter waves,

Crashing on sand, all along.

A weak sun tries to break through,

A yellowing light over all,

Stillness descends in the garden,

Portent keeps us in thrall.

Trees have a greenish brown aura,

Soon branches appear, stick thin,

Winter will soon be upon us,

Endure it, we must, with a grin.

Copyright Evelyn J. Steward.  November, 2018.

A Look Back In Time.

A few days ago I had to go to a London hospital.  That was o.k., I had transport.  What I did find was hiw much the area had changed.

I used to work at Paddington, not a million  miles away.  It took me back to those days when I was fifteen to seventeen years of age.  I worked in  a building just across from the end of the platforms, as a Tracer.

There were several of us young people working in the same department, tracing dicuments of goods thaat had ‘gone astray’.   Some of the guys were a couple of years older but around the similar mark.

We had some fun.  It was the 1950s.  High-heeled shoes, bouffant or slim skirts.   Not sure what music was on at around that time.  Thought it was Cliff Richard eith ‘Living Doll’.  But I just checked it out and that was published in 1959, so it could not  have been.

We girls used to go get the bus, during our lunch our, past St. Marys Hospital.  Then we got another bus into Oxford Street, where we looked at high-heeled shoes, fresh off the boat, supposedly from America.  With hindsight, they may not have been.  You must realise that the second world war had only just finished a few years previously.  But these shoes were not in boxes.  They had holes in the top of the heels where string held them on racks.  I was drawn ta specual mettalic pair, and had them a long time.

Our lunch hour stretched to two by the time we got buses back to work.  But our boss was very good about it.  There was a good canteen, two floors below our ground level.  Someone would send out the word that they had cherry pie or pineapple tart. We would send down an order and pick them up for everyone later.  Good times.

Occasionally the home train was late, but not often.  It was a bit of a drag.  Could not do that journey now.  But would not work up there now if I had a job

What I found, on this recent trip to London was, the tall buildings enclose the city, as never did when I did workeup there.  I almost frlt as uf I coukd not breathe up there.   So busy, more so than a few years ago when I took my friend up to do shopping.  Like ants scrabbling around.  Tall buildings situated almost higgldy piggdly, looming over the roads.  They felt threataning!

London has lots to offer.  I used to like going up different parts.  Harrods has so many departments, wonders untold.  One year we found their Christmas Hall ( quite small then) and saw  of all colours, including PINK.  The decorations were fabulous too.

My friend and I would wend our way through, what i presumed, was the main entrnce.  There was a piano, iften being played, and then through thoerfime and makeup halls.  Oh, and the chicolate hall, yummy.   As I said before, would not like to do that now.   Is it just my age?  When buildings were shorter, I felt it was the London I knew.  Now, I am a stranger in a strange land.

Be safe out there.  Be as happy as you can be.