Beer and culture

 

So Friday was spent (mostly) at the Skipton Beer Festival. Judith thought there might be some jolly music and other things going on, and I didn't want to disabuse her of this thought. No, it was beer and more beer, with some cider and perry thrown in. She tried a half of cider, the first mouthful was OK, then she said it felt like a burning sensation as it went down.

I, on the other hand had a lovely time. You buy a pint (or half pint) glass on the way in and a £12 ticket that pays for your beers so you don't have to pass over your hard earned to the enthusiasts behind the pumps, some of whom were as wrecked as the more keen 'officianado's' -see below-.

Actually, this chap had stamina. He was sound asleep when we got there mid afternoon, woke up, had another pint, went back to sleep again.

On the Tuesday we went over to Manchester to see my sister and give her a lift back to Lancaster from her appointment. We took some time off before and went to lunch in a lovely Italian and then on to the Manchester Art Museum where I found the PRB's which we both love. So full of legend and beauty/tragedy. Theres a lovely one of the  Ophelia before drowning herself, cant remember what its called, that would require getting the book out...

 

This morning we had just woken up and Judith nudged me and said, rather urgently 'whats that?' pointing out the window at the hills opposite our bedroom window. Now, I've seen my fair share of disaster movies, and that was a distress flare. My imagination went into overdrive and thoughts of that bloke trapped by his arm in that film and having to gnaw it off to escape the searing heat (who am I kidding, this is N Yorkshire in 'Spring'). Long and short of it was, the Army doing exercises in the hills, and the message about them using flares not having reached the cave rescue blokes, who were jolly nice about the whole thing and didn't think  I was an imbecile at all.

 

We have been busy decorating. On the nice days we do things outside. These cast iron pots we wire brushed down and painted, planted with some pansies and ivy. They are exactly the same as the ones on top of next doors roof.

We have moved on to what will be our bedroom, decorating-wise. The previous owners used it as an office/playroom and it was full of dexion shelving and hundreds of holes in the wall for fixings.

the blue is now gone and most of the woodwork has been re-painted, but there is still loads to do.

The builder came today (Sat 20th April) and says he can start on the 18th May -HOORAY-

so we are in for about 2 weeks of heavy building work and then 6 weeks of bathroom fitting,plumbing and associated work. Its going to be a mess and we may have to spend a few nights away.

 

To cheer ourselves up we went on a walk near the Ribblehead Viaduct. That's the long stretch of arches that carries the Settle to Carlisle railway over the flood plain of the River Ribble (officer Dibble) It was built by a hoard of Irishmen, many of them dying from Cholera or the injuries they received whilst building it. In the church at Chappelle -le -dale there is a memorial to them. Churches up here are rarely locked, something I find quite refreshing.

As you can see, it was a beautiful day, just right for walking.

 

We came upon this new-born fella, calling out for his mum. Its nearly the end of lambing now, so this sight will become much rarer as they all head off to market (sob!)I'm an avid reader of the farming bit in the local paper, but I still cant fathom how sheep become 'hogs or hoggettes'. And 'Lambs to foot' whats all that about?

We stopped for a well deserved pint of Black Sheep at the pub the Hill Inn and sat outside in the warm sunshine, it was bliss. Then we got mobbed by the local chickens and this extraordinarily ugly turkey.

Anyway, that's it for a while. We have Sandy and Charlie coming up to stay this week for a few days, help with painting and then go for walks etc, cant wait! They have been extremely kind to us and it will be nice to do something for them for a change.

Till the next exciting instalment. (Judith is going to do a bit on the sad story of 'Black George') hankies ready, its a true story.....so long folks.