It looks idyllic doesn’t it? Springers really do bring joy. They bounce down the drive and into the car knowing that wherever we go the end result will be fresh air and frisbees. Even one year old puppies tire eventually and some of the most chilled moments were all five of us lying on assorted picnic rugs fighting full on deep sleep.
Thankfully time is a healer and the not so idyllic moments (and there were plenty) have softened round the edges of my memory. Holidays do not always bring out the best in some people and yet I remain ever optimistic, each time packing a few more coping strategies into my mental suitcase.
I was the only driver on this occasion. We would never have taken Ernie so far if the van had been finished and back on the road. Given the intensity of work since Christmas and the lack of proper holiday allowance I wasn’t go to turn down three nights away. An air bnb was booked, probably one of few that would allow three dogs but really not ideal in a lot of ways. The small garden looked adequate enough but one side was only sparse hedging so Arthur quickly discovered the lawn on the either side of it. It wasn’t really the dogs that created the stress points funnily enough. It was much more to do with being married to someone for 15 years and that someone not realising that I can’t lipread and drive at the same time. In fact it took all of the four days for that to eventually sink in. I think my talent for anticipating when I need to look at someone who is about to speak has done me no favours. All these years I should have delegated that responsibility to others, made them do the work in getting my attention first.
In one deserted market square I pulled over safely so that we could make a plan B since picking up bread and cheese there clearly wasn’t going to happen. I was stunned to be on the receiving end of a shouty rant that included, ‘I TOLD YOU TO TURN RIGHT’. It was at this point I had to explain how profoundly deaf people like myself communicate when BSL is not in the picture. Given his long career in this field it is something I’m still puzzled about now. I may also have reached the end of my patience and been a little shouty myself. Four solid days of this would test anyone. If the tourist with the very large camera is reading this, trust me, he deserved the very rude name I called him at this point.
Highlights of the trip included finding a quiet row of parking bays looking out to sea. Behind us was a grassy park which the dogs enjoyed before settling back in the car with a lovely sea breeze moving through. The tide was right in otherwise we might have risked another seagull chasing session. Only Arthur had thought this was fair game the evening before and the best place to teach him otherwise was another stretch of sandy beach with seagulls. Strengthening the recall with a few edible rewards is something I’ve never had to do with Springers. None of them have ever been fixated on food but Arthur is the exception. Woody would rather have a tennis ball and Riley will settle for a massive diva-like fuss.
Although Ernie did pretty well with the ups and downs of the North Yorkshire Moors, I didn’t enjoy putting the drum brakes to the ultimate test especially with HGV’s hugging my back bumper. One very steep hill in first gear was a bit of a touch and go moment too, the 4×4 behind us wasn’t entertaining the idea of a 65 year old car failing to get up it. Now that the van is nearly across the finish line we won’t need Ernie for more than local roads to and from woodland and dog swimming spots thank goodness. Just as with the van we walk, swim and return to the vehicle for some winding down time before we head home. In the van I can boil a kettle and make coffee but with the car I take a flask, either way the dogs know that we won’t immediately set off and so they snooze and dry off while I sip coffee and read a book. It’s never for very long but it’s a blissful, peaceful moment in an otherwise busy day.
Although woodland will always be my first choice when dogs need to run free variety is always worth trying. The beach was quickly deemed stressful because of the time of year, the amount of walking for M to amenities, steep steps, dogs on leads etc. Even a late evening visit was crowded in terms of other dogs and small children. Sometimes we have to go through the motions even though I’ve predicted all of this, expressed my concerns and suggested accommodation near to forest.
Well as usual I’ve parked this in my draft folder and forgotten about it. It’s at least two months on now and the van was finally finished and a proper trip has been taken. I’ll attempt to write that up and not leave it in limbo for months this time!
We started watching all the classic car programmes a few years back when we acquired the camper van. (Nerdy I know). I think it was a naive hope that we’d pick up some restoration and maintenance tips. I’m not sure that has happened though we at least have a general idea of what might have gone wrong when the van starts playing up. Mostly though, watching classic car programmes throws up lots of discussions about dream cars. M doesn’t really have a burning desire to own a specific car so he’s been happy to go along with my two ‘burning desires’ namely the VWT2 camper van and a Morris Minor Traveller. I have no idea where the latter desire came from. Most owners seem to buy one because their Dad or Grandad had one but that’s not the case here. I don’t even remember them being on the roads. I think they were made from about 1953 to 1971 so even though I was born at the end of this bracket I don’t remember them being part of daily life.
Little over a week ago I finally found myself behind the wheel of one. I’ve never driven a Morris Minor or Traveller so I was really hoping my van driving experience would give me an idea of what to expect. I lurched out of the owner’s driveway to a steady stream of ‘do this do that, what are you doing, do this, do that’. Quite aside from the fact that none of it was helpful because I’m actually quite a capable driver, I can’t hear people unless I’m looking at them and there was no way I was taking my eyes off this narrow single lane country road with solid 6 foot high hedges on each side and more traffic than a London rush hour. I pulled up round the corner out of sight of the owner and offered the test drive up to he who knows better but it was declined. Once calm was restored I was able to mention that the clutch was most definitely not working and that we’d need to decide whether to take that on or decline the purchase. We’d already been over the whole car with a fine tooth comb and hadn’t found anything too alarming so we went back to the owner and negotiated a price that reflected a bit more work.
I don’t think I’d recommend adding in the stress of a 600 mile round trip, towing a car trailer and then having the unforeseen issue of a modern 4×4 overheating (easily fixed as it happens but not without major ranting in the middle lane of the motorway first). I’m incredibly practical and calm in a crisis but unfortunately M is not. I like to think this calmness comes from my Dad. We probably had more than one car drama but the one that springs to mind is a car that started to fill with thick white smoke, probably on a motorway but could have been a busy main road. Dad calmly drove to the inside lane and pulled over as far as he could. Told us calmly to get out. Calmly went back for the small black dog whose little face had appeared at a back window surrounded by white smoke. Told us all to stand back a little. I’ve no idea how it was resolved without mobile phones but no doubt he had to walk to the nearest sos phone. There might have been mumbled cross words but there was never any shouting. I mention this story from time to time but it has no effect whatsoever on the next emergency situation.
All that aside it was no mean feat driving all that way over two days and messing up our body clocks and eating patterns, not to mention having to park with the caravans and hgv’s every time we needed to stop which meant m having to negotiate some quite uneven tarmac to get to the amenities. I could not have towed a car myself and it’s lucky that M is such an expert at towing. We saw some awful examples of towing when we had a caravan including one caravan sliced in two like a can of sardines being opened by someone who had no idea what he had done when he got out of his car to inspect his parking.
There is so much paperwork involved in acquiring a new car and lots of bits and bobs to put right before I can truly enjoy Ernie. I took the sun visors down, sanded them, masked off the chrome and resprayed them a vintage white. They aren’t perfectly flat because they are 65 years old but they look a bit smarter now. I’ve taken the door pulls off and sorted out the sticky leaking glue from inside them with sticky stuff remover. Since they get handled a lot they were grubby so I gave them a good clean too, they now look as new as the rest of the blue vinyl in the car. I’ve trimmed some of the carpet back in places where it didn’t fit well. Eventually I will probably buy the proper fitted carpets for the whole car but at the moment the basic blue corded stuff is fine. The wood has been thickly varnished and not in a good way but it seems pretty sound and I’m happy to live with the lumpy varnish for as long as it protects the wood.
Ernie took part in our village Platinum Jubilee weekend, albeit in the rain. Kids loved the car and although the village seems to be more of an MG owners village he did get quite a lot more attention than the MG’s. I don’t think we will be doing anymore car show appearances though, Ernie is exactly as described in the ad ‘tidy but not a show car’. I just wanted a runner for daily use, one that would fit the dogs in nicely and be a bit of fun to drive. I think Ernie fits the bill perfectly.
The dogs have established the pecking order when it comes to boot or back seat. Riley really doesn’t enjoy the amount of bouncing around the pups do when they get in any vehicle so I knew he’d be happy with the back seat arrangement. What I hadn’t expected was him refusing to get out on our second walk of the day. We pulled up in our usual lane, I tipped the seat forward, the pups were already out and sprinting off into the distance and Riley showed no interest in jumping out at all. Eventually I left the door open and the seat tilted up and figured if he wanted to come he would. We didn’t go out of sight and he was having a lovely snooze in the sun when we returned. I’d taken a flask so I had a cup of tea whilst still giving him the option of hopping out for a stretch but no, quite happy staying where he was thank you. When we got home he hopped out happy as Larry and into the house. This is a thirteen year old dog who knows his own mind! M said it was probably something to do with the three layers of crochet blankets!
Ernie gave me quite the scare early this week. There were very few signs that anything was wrong with the brakes. I’d taken the dogs to the woods that morning, it’s probably a 10 mile round trip, no problems at all. After dropping the dogs home I set off to meet Mum half way for a coffee and catch up and decided to take the scenic route (thank goodness). About half way there I approached a small t junction and the car just sailed right through with my foot pressing the brake to the floor. There really wasn’t time to think about pulling on the handbrake, it all happened so quickly and was so unexpected. I managed to stop the car round the corner with the handbrake. It was only whilst waiting for the RAC and watching the Range Rovers, BMW’s, Porsche’s and a Maserati go by that I realised how lucky I had been not to collide with an expensive car. Ernie ended up at the garage a little earlier than his clutch was booked for and the brake part can’t be picked up locally so that took a few extra days but it’s just part of owning an old car and an inconvenience I can easily cope with. The sheer joy of driving it around outweighs these small teething problems! M says I haven’t stopped smiling since we bought the car!
We’ve just had Woody’s post operative follow up appointment. Obviously we were able to report that the screw in his elbow has been a big success. What wasn’t clear at our last appointment was that he has a screw befitting the size and weight he was at 5 months old and he’s now a year old. It seems we both sat and listened and understood that the screw could last as long as nine years, we hadn’t really registered that it could break at any time. It’s very worrying but in the meantime the advice is to let dogs be dogs thank goodness, no reigning in of exercise and games. The muscles support the joints so the best thing is for him to stay active, not much chance of having it any other way. Woody has become ball obsessed. Every morning when we go through to the rest of the house I pick up the basket of assorted dog toys tidied away from the night before (necessary because they don’t have an off switch otherwise). I throw a soft toy out, only Arthur goes for it. I throw a canvas snake out, only Arthur goes for it. I throw a vinyl bone out, only Arthur goes for it. I throw a ball out and Woody goes for it as though his life depends on it, then circles the sunlounge in a lap of honour and he does not stop offering the ball for fetch games or making Arthur chase him for it all… day… long.
It is just as well that I’ve been spending a lot of time outside at my dye kitchen. I’m gainfully employed and the dogs are supervised. Left to their own devices there would be a lot more escaping under the fences and paying casual visits to the boggy stream below, not to mention chasing baby crows that have fallen out of their nests. One such bird must have fallen out overnight and I was dutifully presented with it the next morning. A second, much larger was half way to being gifted when I persuaded Arthur to leave it and come inside. The poor thing sat on the pavement in the shade for two hours until M came home and could help it up the garden towards the field. It probably didn’t stand much chance of surviving but the constant and loud crowing from the parents did eventually stop. There’s been a third, dead, carried around the garden for a bit then hastily rescued, this is becoming like a return to cat ownership!
I’m very organic and ‘go with the flow’ when it comes to my natural dyeing. It’s already a craft that is aligned with the seasons and I really like that about it. Currently there’s an abundance of nettles, cow parsley, birch, beech and oak leaves all in the garden or very close by. The dye kitchen is slowly being surrounded by fresh birch leaves and I’m making sure it doesn’t disappear completely by snipping foliage around it and adding it straight to a pot. It’s the closest thing to actually having a workbench in the middle of a forest, now wouldn’t that be a nice dream? Lately I’ve dyed colours specifically for a project. I spotted a crochet sunflower cushion that looked like a fun thing to make and realised that the colours could all be obtained from birch, oak, alder and nettles, all to hand. I plan to do more of this kind of thing, I make fewer things these days but they are definitely more considered.
I’m also trying to remember to put extra wool samples in with each dye pot to create a loose reference of mini skeins. I’ve dedicated a vintage suitcase to the cause. If only I had done this from the very start, the suitcase would be bulging! It’s not an exact science but being able to use the samples as a starting point when trying to obtain a specific colour will be a handy thing, not to mention being able to demonstrate the craft if I ever I had need to. I have several very messy sketchbooks with strands of wool stuck in and notes that don’t always explain exactly what I did, so I feel this will be a better resource.
Since I last wrote here I took a bit of a step back from daily Instagram interaction. I’ve never been one to criticise social media because it’s mainly all good for someone like me, a bit of an anomaly when it comes to being profoundly deaf but not at all belonging to the culturally deaf world. I’ve been editing/proof reading a book on that subject recently and it’s made me reflect on how lucky I am to have gained the education and language I have done. The book heavily criticises social media which is a shame because I think it’s there for anyone to take or leave, I’ve never experienced any bullying on Instagram and I’ve had very few negative interactions. I’ve had a break recently because selling my plant dyed wool and hand carved hooks that way is a fairly intense process. I try and keep things small and manageable but it’s often a case of spinning plates. The reflective and creative side of me often wants time out to stand back and see where things have gone and where they might go. This time round I happened to start working on some hooks that I’ve been wanting to make but might not necessarily be as popular as my usual style. I’ve so enjoyed making them, picking up woods that previously had challenges and didn’t feel commercially viable but managing to work out how to overcome those challenges. I plan to stock these when I have a decent sized batch of assorted sizes and woods.
Well, we’ve had the Platinum Jubilee weekend and also acquired another old vehicle since I started writing this so I guess I’ll have to start another post!
Spring always seems such a long way off when I’m attempting to over-winter the garden. Garden furniture gets put away, dog toys brought indoors, the last of the summer flowers are dead headed – and most of those dried on sunny window sills for natural dyeing. By mid November I look out and see all the bits I missed and think how much of a mess it all looks. Spring finally comes back round and I can’t wait to tip all of the dead stuff on to the bonfire, get the chairs out, sweep the deck and start planting out. There’s no routine to all of this, just ‘as and when’.
No two years ever feel the same weather wise so I like to just take the warmer days when they come and make use of them. This year I dusted off the outdoor kitchen much earlier than usual and had at least five good sunny dry days in March to use up the last of my dried winter dye material. Weld, Goldenrod, barks, some Marigold and Coreopsis (but not much). Previously I wasn’t impressed with dried Goldenrod but this year it yielded beautiful deep yellows with the same strength as fresh. Dried Weld had previously given pretty much the same shades of acid yellow as fresh but this year I found it was much deeper in colour. Admittedly no weighing ever goes on now but my methods are probably similar every time I have a dye session. I have dried Birch leaves to use up and these have also given deep yellows previously. The lightfast tests for Birch leaf yellow have been repeatedly good but it’s not always easy to get a good hoard of leaves without preying on the neighbourhood pruners!
We handed over the van in February, it’s now late April and the absence of a daily vehicle is really becoming difficult. It’s no secret that I would never have chosen this county or house but several things were making it bearable and one of those was being able to take the dogs out to a hassle free place, no silly rules, no people and no leads required. Just being able to get out of the same four walls once a day made all the difference, even better that I was able to make a coffee on the little gas hob and read a chapter of a book while the three dogs had a post walk snooze. It’s been a lot like lockdown but with the rest of the household coming and going as they please. Weekends have been tense with M wanting to stay at home after a working week and me desperate to get as far away from the house as possible. Plans for our annual trip to Sussex had to be shelved, it’s just not practical to try and find dog friendly accommodation with two puppies and a third dog.
On the plus side every time I insist on finding somewhere new to explore, we usually manage just that. Mostly only local places and some of those just because we’ve taken a wrong turning trying to find something actually documented on a map. Once the dogs are suitably worn out we find coffee and sometimes sit and dream about future van trips, though frankly the holiday goalposts seem to be forever moving so I have no idea when they might happen and I strongly suspect I will be taking some solo trips this year in order not to end up resentful that holiday allowance hasn’t been taken (by choice not necessity) and the van has been sitting unused after all the expensive of restoring it. I’m sure it will all work out somehow. I’m always optimistic if nothing else.
The pups have been pure joy and hellish hard work too. It’s all levelling out now with less mud and less chewing but they do still get hold of random things like rubber gloves and bits of cardboard and shred them. They are so responsive to training I really haven’t had to try very hard though they are easily distracted by each other especially when there’s a stick involved. On our walks we walk partly down a little used narrow track. It leads to a farm but there’s rarely any traffic, when they hear a vehicle they move to the verge and lie down, not because they know they’ll get run over but because they anticipate a stick being thrown. Sometimes in the excitement of all this they shuffle backwards, Arthur particularly, because he likes to get a head start on the fetch part of this game so I have to make sure we are as far back on the verge as possible.
There are no signs that Woody has a metal screw in his elbow at all. He certainly runs as fast as Arthur who has no metal parts and also much longer legs. In fact Arthur has grown much more than expected and we’ve been wondering what overnighters in the van will be like now that they are both fully grown. If they take to the front cab hammock bed designed for children we’ll be ok. Riley is 13 now and that means old age privileges like bringing your comfy home bed along for the ride and warm blankets over you. We did the same for Harvey and he was as snug as a bug in a rug. Woody still needs to gain some confidence as a solo dog and not always as part of a group of three. He seems to base all his decisions on what the others are doing and is less sure when he’s on his own. All going well with dodgy backs and things I’m really hoping I can take them on individual walks this summer so that I can really train them properly. Whistle recall is usually superb at least.
I’ve had a busy start to the year with natural dyeing, hook carving and making small wooden toadstool and mushroom stitch markers. All things that I love to use myself and create a greater sense of connection to nature and the process of making things from natural materials. As always I like to be continuously learning and trying new things. I’ve taken on a huge Jacob’s fleece to wash, card and prepare for spinning. I take my wheel outside when the weather is good but try as I might my spinning doesn’t improve much from ‘art yarn’. So much so I’m thinking I need to embrace the art yarn and make a few more vessels for felting. Felting always seems incongruent with crocheting nice baskets only to hope the fibres matt together but when it works it creates a beautiful sturdy bowl/basket which will stand up to much more vigorous use.
This year was also the year I finally plucked up the courage to try a collaboration with a fellow natural dyer. We both seem calm, unflappable types and it worked well. Keeping it simple was key and so the Hooky Hens were born, using my naturally dyed wool and Hannah’s naturally dyed pure wool felt. We launched them well ahead of Easter but in fact woolly chickens are not just for Easter and would look suitably cheerful all year round. I had fun making a nest for them and writing up the pattern for anyone to use but especially Hooky Hen guardians.
Although I didn’t learn and wasn’t tempted to even try ‘reels’ for Instagram this time I did learn how to do a link to a product or blog page which resulted in having to update all the free patterns I’ve written since joining Instagram. There were quite a few and the aim was always to make sure they were basic and useful. I find those the most satisfying when I really can’t sit still in front of the tv without a crochet hook on the go too. They also make ideal car journey projects when you need to stop and start or chat too. In fact I often pack cotton and a suitable hook for a journey knowing that I will have made two fresh face cloths for that particular break by the time we’ve arrived. Seeing the patterns as a vaguely cohesive collection has spurred me on to write a few more.
Crochet productivity has slowed somewhat. I’ve almost finished the bobbled waistcoat shown above. The design was shown in off white with red cherries but I didn’t have either of those in pure wool and I knew that if I made it in anything else I wouldn’t enjoy it. The yarn I used is recycled which seems to break very easily so goodness knows whether it will wash well. I’ve swapped the cherries for lemons and kept those to just the lower half of the garment so that it’s not overwhelmingly busy. It’s a bit different to anything else I’ve ever crocheted so it’s enjoyable in that respect.
Easter bank holiday weekend has been and gone. It was beautifully sunny though quite difficult to be cheered up by that fact, knowing that we should have been sunning ourselves on the south coast with the dogs swimming in the sea every day. M was able to start building a simple car port for the van’s return albeit with great difficulty now that his balance and general mobility is compromised. J helped in between gaming and other commitments.
I’m finishing this entry in the middle of May. Lots of jobs have been ticked off. I’ve given my dye kitchen a much better tidy up and sort out than the above photo shows and it’s easier to work out there now. I need a couple of new additions this year. One is to finally get round to building a base for our second butler sink and fixing the water butt tap at a level suitable for water supply. I can drain the water into the watering can for re-use on the garden. I seem to have started off quite a large number of dye worthy flowers this year. Siting them higher than Arthur’s mouth will be a big challenge. More recycled wood building may be required!
I’ve so enjoyed working with Hannah, a natural dyer of pure wool felt. I dropped her a message without much of a grand plan in place and after a few dozen email exchanges later we had created a Hooky Hen crochet kit combining my naturally dyed wool and Hannah’s naturally dyed felt. As a fun extra I designed a crochet nest pattern for the Hooky Hens which could also be called a basket or bowl and would serve all sorts of uses. So far I’ve mainly used the sample above for chocolate mini eggs, they just seem to fall into my shopping basket accidentally.
You will need:
• 4mm and 4.5mm crochet hooks • Aran weight wool (preferably sturdy rather than with drape) approximately 50g • Scissors, tapestry needle
U.K. Terms
[puff stitch – yo, insert hook into st, pull up loop, repeat 3 more times, yo and pull through 9 loops on hook]
Using 4.5mm hook work 6dc into a magic ring (do not slip stitch to join, continue working in a spiral) R1. 2dc in each stitch around (12) place stitch maker to mark end of rounds and move up with each round R2. (1dc, inc in next) repeat to end of round (18) R3. (2dc, inc in next) repeat to end of round (24) R4. (3dc, inc in next) repeat to end of round (30) R5. 2dc, inc in next (4dc, inc in next) repeat x 5 to end of round, 2dc (36) R6. (5dc, inc in next) repeat to end of round (42) R7. 3dc, inc in next (6dc, in in next) repeat x 5 to end of round, 3dc (48) R8. (7dc, inc in next) repeat to end of round (54) R9. 4dc, inc in next (8dc, inc in next) repeat x 5 to end of round, 3dc, sl st in last st, ch1, turn (60) R10. Dc in blo (back loop only) around, sl st to join R11. Insert hook in same stitch as sl st and pull up to the height of a puff stitch, this will count as the first part of your puff st, complete puff stitch (see above) and ch1 to secure, sk1, puff repeat from * to * to end of round, sl st in top of first puff.st. R12. sl st along to next space between puff stitches, pull up first loop of puff st and complete as before. Securing each puff st with a ch1, work puff stitches in each space between puff stitches from the previous row. R13. Repeat round 12 R14. Change to 4mm hook, repeat row 12 R15. Sl st into next available space between puffs, ch1. Crab stitch in each stitch around and sl st to finish or if you prefer dc in each st and sl st to join. Fasten off. Weave in ends.
On Instagram you’ll find a post of a before and after felting in the washing machine version. It was only a 7cm diameter version which ended up just under 5cm in diameter and felted beautifully. I have some more random leftovers of this roving style wool to use up in this way, cue lots of useful little bowls!
There was a moment recently when M found me almost buried under a mound of spaniels. I had one on my lap and one under each arm, all vying for attention, whilst I was actually trying to see over/through them to watch a film. ‘Well that looks cosy’ he said. ‘I’m in spaniel heaven!’ I replied with a big grin on my face. Given a few minutes more and he’d have found all three snoring in unison, once they’ve established who is sitting where they respond nicely to a film by late afternoon. Woe betide I should need to move though, the rigmarole has to begin all over again.
It’s a wonder that I ever manage to crochet with this much adoration going on. They do climb down for a stretch, the puppies in particular like to stretch full length alongside a sofa. Arthur will often twist over so that he’s belly up and baring all. Despite relaxed appearances they are up and on their feet in a split second if the need arises, machinery, dogs barking nearby or someone at the door for example. If I’ve put the oven timer on for natural dyeing purposes and they let me know I heap praise upon them and give them a small biscuit, though I think they are just pleased I’ve put a stop to the noise.
It’s quite the VW Campervan parts shop here at the moment. We’ve handed over the two new doors that came with the van, along with new metal panels that go across the middle of the sliding door. The dining room is full of smaller parts that will generally improve and maintain the van. It’s often the details that make a difference, last summer we finally fitted the glove compartment door and I’m incredibly happy that all our bits and bobs like masks, travel sweets, a first aid kit, tissues, small change for toll bridges and so on, are no longer on display. Likewise I’m looking forward to having the little black cog fitted on the triangular side window so that I can finally open it. It sounds like a simple job but it isn’t. The child/dog hammock has arrived but we won’t fit that until the work has been done. It’s an art form making the most of a small campervan for modern lives (not to mention 3 dogs) but it’s a challenge I’m always up for.
We took the van to a quiet spot near woodland recently. I packed a wooden crate with all the pots and pans and sieves and spoons I thought I’d need for an al fresco dye session. It was intended as a trial run to see if I needed to tweak my kit at all so that M can make a tailor made box/cupboard/table type thing to hold it all as well as provide the raised surface to put our Kelly Kettle on for the heat source. We bought the cooking attachment a couple of years ago and we’ve since used it so much more, often boiling the water for coffee or tea first and then putting the attachment on to cook a simple lunch. We also changed the standard orange stopper with the green whistling one, a totally useless bit of kit for me unless the dogs react to it or M is nearby to listen. For reasons I can’t quite fathom M insists on being the chief fire lighter, we often wait for 45 minutes or more for a kettle of water due to fire starting problems. As kids we had the luxury of being allowed to light a campfire in the garden whenever we fancied one, you soon learn what works and what doesn’t.
Winter really is a challenging time of year for natural dye plant material. I used bracken this weekend but I’d probably have been better off with brambles. In Spring the bracken would have yielded a brighter yellow/green colour and modified to a brighter green with a touch of iron. I stuck with the warm caramel tone this experiment achieved, thankful that it had even resulted in that because the ratio of material to wool wasn’t as high as I would have liked. I need to choose a deeper pot for future ‘on the road’ dye sessions. I also need to add ‘small stool’ to my kit list, there was a lot of standing around and bending over for me while M sat in the doorway of the van. Near to where we parked for this dye session (on the edge of the woodland) was a perfect clear running stream. Not only did it wash the dogs feet nicely prior to their re-entry to the van, I was able to rinse out and cool down all the pots and pans. It added that touch of dyeing in the wild and making use of what is around you. It’s that element that I like. A return to basics.
Although I must also confess that coming home to central heating and a hot shower is also pretty good. The older I get the longer it takes to actually warm up properly again. Even if we’ve departed van life with a hot drink I always make a hot chocolate on our return. After dyeing on a Kelly Kettle fire all afternoon we did stink of smoke and even after hot showers I could still smell it. Two days on and I finally twigged, it was my glasses! Somehow they’ve absorbed the smell, I think it’ll fade eventually. I don’t mind, it’s a nice reminder of a fun afternoon.
It’ll be a while before we can go on a proper van trip, due to both the work and the holiday time available. The latter isn’t as flexible as it used to be but I’m learning to use the waiting time to get things done before we go. France is top of our wish list but Scotland has so much to offer too. Going outside midge season is imperative. Last time we went to Scotland we had the majority of our trip midge free but as soon as June 1st hit, so did the midges, meaning we needed to be in the van with every single window closed by 8pm or so. Given that M devotes a large portion of his life to watching cookery programmes I’ve subtly suggested that we might up our game when it comes to meals on our road trips. I’ve purchased several books that could potentially inspire him to move beyond the soup and tinned chilli con carne. To be fair we did have sausages in baps quite a few times in Scotland but I feel the potential of one pot cooking hasn’t been explored much yet. As with home meals I think I might need to contribute firm ideas and then leave him to enjoy the actual process, he really does seem to enjoy the cooking part of putting together of a meal, a concept which is totally beyond me. I’d probably live on soup and toast if left to my own devices.
One of the activities we both do much more of on a road trip is read. M is very easily pleased when it comes to books and we’ve acquired some of his reading matter from those ‘leave one, take one’ free libraries we seem to sniff out along the way. We know a few good bookstores in places we’ve been before or pass through and can’t resist visiting over and over again. Both of us fear running out of reading matter! The van could really do with a book shelf but at the moment that is still potential chewing material for the puppies so that’ll have to wait. I’ve started a reading challenge with E. we both purchased ‘100 Top Books’ scratch off posters and with no set deadline in mind we are going to work our way through them. E has kicked off with Crime and Punishment and I’m about to start with Moby Dick. I’ve added to my reading challenge with a related crochet make for some too, hence the white whale who I feel really needs to hang from somewhere to give the impression of being suspended in water. Not all the books are old classics, some are newer, some are even children’s classics etc ting pu like ‘The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe’. Although I’ve read some of the titles I’m looking forward to revisiting some.
Somehow I’ve managed yet again to leave a half written blog post in my drafts folder! I usually update them before I press ‘publish’ but on this occasion I will just mention it was written months ago! The less said about the van not being ready the better. We now have a valuable bank of work free days and no van to go away in. It looks like the wild garden might get a bit of a hacking down and the shed (equally wild) might have a sort out. My outdoor dye kitchen has already been dusted off and seen some action. Random warm days have been truly seized and made use of. As usual I can’t sit still for long and I’m always trying new things. This week I have returned to washing a sheep fleece and preparing it for spinning. I can’t repeat what the men have said about the appearance and smell of the soaking Jacob’s fleece but it looks fabulous and I can’t wait to try it on my wheel.
Goodbye 2021! Instagram and blogging certainly help record the good bits to look back upon. Journals and diaries could also achieve this but I never stick at those. Perhaps it’s the ease of the keyboard or more than likely it’s the graphic designer in me making columns of words and pictures neater and faster than I could by hand. I don’t make resolutions these days but I do spend this time of year deep in reflective thought, looking at parts I could have handled better, things I did achieve, things I learnt, directions I might want to take.
We were so glad that we’d had that last holiday in Scotland with Harvey and Riley before having to say goodbye to Harvey. Despite his aches and pains he swam in lochs, enjoyed the woodland smells and generally loved life on the road. I thought we’d relish the close bond with Riley as our only dog for a while but it became clear he was pining and waiting for Harvey to walk back through the door. No amount of spoiling him rotten and lovely long walks seemed to lift his spirits. I’ve not really had a dog that noticeably grieved before but when the puppies arrived Riley was back to his usual playful self instantly. He taught us that some dogs are happy enough with their human companions and others like to have four legged ones too. He barks at them a lot, we think to keep them in line but he also stands in the middle of a room with a toy in his mouth and waits until they come along and try and swing from it. Riley even allows Woody to sleep with his head on top of his back which is how we usually find them in the morning if we tiptoe into the kitchen.
All the hard work involved in fencing off our garden is long forgotten now. It was open all along the side which has a stream and despite knowing that they could easily hop over to the other side Harvey and Riley never did. Woody and Arthur, however, discovered the partially dried up stream in the first week or so. Our garden has never been so securely fenced in all the time we’ve lived here. Arthur even found the tiniest little hole leading through to our neighbour and there were a few mornings he was doing his excited wiggly bum dance on her driveway whilst I shouted an apology over the fence still in my pyjamas. Luckily our neighbour is very nice and says she likes having dogs who bark when strangers come to our door or hers.
Acquiring two new puppies has not been without drama. We mistakenly thought Woody had something of a collision injury but it failed to get any better and eventually he was limping quite badly. X-rays revealed a suspicious looking black line that wasn’t conclusive so we were referred to a specialist in Leeds for CT scans. By then we’d been warned that it could be an inherited defect in the elbow where the bones had failed to fuse before he was born but it still came as a massive blow when they gave us the results of the scan the same day and said they’d operate the following day. We’d arrived with a beautiful trusting little puppy and we were driving home without him. Three days later we went back and he greeted us with only love and joy despite his huge ordeal. He’d had lots of hair shaved off, a huge cone, stitches in his elbow and he reeked of disinfectant and wee (he’s a bit of a nervous or excited widdler). I was just so relieved he still knew us and trusted us enough to come home with us. Recovery was tricky, no running, no jumping, no playing, no stairs, no walks, no playmates. We had to divide the house in two and keep the pups apart. It felt incredibly cruel and therefore kinder to send Arthur to Ella’s for weekend sleepovers which he didn’t mind at all! That’s Arthur on weekend guard dog duty at Ella’s cottage in the first photo.
We are finally returning to normal life now but obviously with a niggling worry that Woody will overdo things. He has a screw in his elbow that should last a lifetime but with no guarantees. You’d never know he’d had such a major procedure so it’s fingers crossed now and hope it stays that way.
With van travel and new puppies I’ve had a lot less time to myself. There are a few more crochet makes than pictured here but generally speaking I’ve walked more miles than I have stitched yarn. The hat above was a gift for M’s work colleague. The Gryffindor scarf for my niece, to get her started as a Harry Potter fan (which would please one of her cousins very much). The mittens were a stash busting exercise to see if I could still wing a pair of mittens as I went. The crochet light bulbs took my fancy one evening when I needed a simple project to do whilst watching a film. Likewise the blanket ended up being made during various films with a recovering puppy by my side, it was the only way to get him to sit still for any length of time. My Instagram account probably has many more makes that I’ve long forgotten about. I think there were one or two that were a major effort but finally got finished, a naturally dyed log cabin blanket and a granny square tweedy cardigan come to mind.
On that note, I really must blog more to record even our shortest van trips. We find some great places on our travels and then struggle to remember exactly where they were. Some are more memorable for their connections, for example Grassingham in Yorkshire, it’s where they filmed some of the new series of All Creatures Great and Small. I don’t usually go in for fan stuff like this but it was one of M’s ‘surprise’ destinations and quite frankly I’m happy just to be in the van and driving anywhere so I indulged his ‘let’s treat my wife like a five year old’ ways on this occasion. A good time was had by all. We parked right in the central square a few metres from the main house they use the exterior of for filming. They add columns and steps for the series but in real life it has neither. We went in to the Drovers Arms, the pub featured in the programmes. We had a little walk around Grassingham but the highlight was probably good coffee and local award winning brownies. Using a well known app we found a farmer’s field to park for the night nearby. In a neighbouring village there was a huge sweeping mown field with a shallow wide stream running alongside which made the perfect day pitch for picnics and dog swimming. With sketchy phone signal in the area and not spending very much time looking at our phones anyway, let alone the news, we were a bit puzzled when friends and family started saying, oh Yorkshire looks lovely, I hope you’ve got enough fuel to get home. It was a whole two days before we realised there was a bit of a fuel buying panic going on. I really wouldn’t have minded being stranded for a few extra days but we found a small rural garage with only two cars in front of us and filled Bert up without any issues. It was only on the way home, driving past major petrol stations that we realised there was indeed a bit of a situation.
Our trip to Oxford was, as with all of our trips, a last minute thing. It was a combined birthday and anniversary treat with E and B being able to travel down with us in the van and stay in a Travelodge. In fact we ended up cancelling our campsite booking and staying somewhere warm too, it just happened to be a below freezing cold Friday night when we arrived. Although I didn’t live in Oxford for as long as I lived in Sussex it still feels like a second home to me. Lots of lovely memories and it’s handy knowing where everything is for a change, though it is a city that seems to change quite a lot between every visit. For my birthday night out we booked a table at The Rickety Press in Jericho, I love that area of Oxford and this particular pub is dog friendly. Wood fired pizza and cocktails, the perfect night out.
Sherwood Forest is another gem on our doorstep that we visited with Bert. I used to take the children there with bikes and picnics, we’ve also camped there. Robin Hood hats and bow and arrows were of course essential and it really made me smile to see children still running around with green felt triangles on their heads. The winter all day parking rate is more than reasonable and for families it’s even better value because there’s so much more there now. A bigger cafe, Go Ape, cycle hire, new and incredible play areas up in the trees, frisbee golf (we had to hold the dogs back from fetching a few frisbees when our walk crossed paths!) Routes for dogs off leads were clearly marked and even at a peak time it was a great day out. Once back at the van for soup and bread amongst the pine trees in a quiet corner to ourselves it really could have been in the middle of nowhere.
As I write the van is booked in for structural repairs. Across the back of the tailgate there’s a section of gutter rail missing and a small crack on the corner of the roof. The missing rail lets water in and our temporary fix hasn’t lasted long so it’s time to repair that properly along with the crack. I’m hoping they don’t find anything too horrifying underneath, there’s already a suspicion that it’s been previously patched up with fibreglass. I use the van daily for dog walks so it’ll be a nuisance not having it for a while but I guess that’s classic vehicles for you. To console myself I plan to obtain a suitable map for studying our next possible trip. We are itching to return to Scotland and maybe stick to more of the coast this time. We’ve already managed to squeeze three dogs and ourselves in for overnight trips but the pups have grown quite a bit since then and it’s time to try a bit of kit that was available for these vans in the seventies – the front cab hammock! It sits above steering wheel height and is essentially just two poles and a piece of canvas. The pups love climbing, tunnels, platforms and burrowing so I know they won’t mind making themselves comfy on a hammock, it’s just persuading them that our bed is a no go that’ll take a few false starts. If all else fails it will make an excellent luggage shelf for all the loose bits that seem to get in the way when the bed is up.
Here’s to continuing adventures. I’ve eased myself gently into the new year with plenty of small crochet projects, lots of coffee and hot chocolate and walks that have been only very gradually getting longer for Woody. There’s even been a spot of natural dyeing in the wild but that’s for another post. Happy New Year!
Somehow I end up making a new crochet pumpkin or two every year. They are so incredibly simple but with the right yarn and a few extra touches they end up being worthy of a windowsill collection that comes out every autumn.
I dyed this wool with marigolds and coreopsis but pumpkins and gourds come in a whole host of colours so it’s a good project for using up odds and ends.
You will need: DK yarn (using the measurements and hook size given each of these garland pumpkins used approximately 7g of wool.) Oddments of green dk yarn. A 4mm crochet hook. Tapestry needle. Small twigs that are cut flat on one end, roughly 3-4cm long. Flat buttons. Toy stuffing. Glue gun. Jute twine.
U.K. terms:
Chain 16 and starting in the third chain htr to end. (14htr’s)
Ch2 for turning chain (does not count as a stitch here and throughout). Htr through the back loop to end, turn.
Repeat above row until the length of your piece is twice the height. (Mine were roughly 5cm high by 10cm long.) Fasten off leaving a tail long enough to sew the side seam and gathered edges.
Use slip stitch to sew the piece into a tube shape and then running stitch to gather the bottom. The second photo shows how they should look at this stage. Use a stuffing of your choice. Don’t pack too tightly – you’ll be pulling a stitch through from stalk to base to create the pumpkin shape. You can cut and re attach your thread here but I leave my thread attached, stuff the pumpkin and then place the running stitches around the top edge, pulling slightly before placing my stalk in position and then pulling tightly to close.
Green foliage – chain 15, starting in second chain, 2dc in each chain until 4 chains remain, dc in first of these followed by 3 slip stitches. Fasten off leaving enough to tie a knot around your twig stalk.
Glue gun the lengths of twig to a flat button. Attach your green foliage with a knot and push knot to base of twig. This will be hidden when you pull your top edge shut.
Place stalk and foliage on top of the open pumpkin, pull gathered edge tight and place a small stitch near the base to secure. You will now ‘squash’ the pumpkin by pushing your needle through to the centre of the base and whilst holding in a squashed position secure with a small stitch once more, push the needle through to a random position on the side of the pumpkin and snip carefully to tuck your end inside.
String your pumpkins with twine using a tapestry needle to work through a few stitches close to the stalk base and working a single knot. I left approximately 20cm between pumpkins but it depends on how long you want your garland to be and how many pumpkins you made. I added leaves between each pumpkin but this is optional. I did make it up as you go leaves but I’ll add a leaf pattern at a later date.
The Trials and Tribulations of Bert the Early Bay is a book I could write. We always justify repairs by saying that we don’t drink or smoke or have any other expensive hobbies (let’s conveniently forget that I do have one hobby that costs money for just a moment). We were on a high after clocking up 1000 miles on some of the steepest inclines in Scotland, one loose wire and the sliding door derailed momentarily but otherwise all was well. Turns out there’s probably no such thing with a classic van.
The day before our planned trip South we had the pleasure of a local RAC man paying us a home visit. Mechanics over a certain age absolutely adore working on classic engines. Our cutting out problem had been a mystery for a while and being intermittent didn’t help diagnose it sooner. By pure chance this guy liked to pull wires and cables to see if everything was connected as it should be. Here’s where my technological know how goes a bit vague. He found an important cable that came away in his hand and it was burnt out too. Finally we had evidence we hadn’t imagined that burning smell. Although a roadside repair he said it was absolutely fine to drive 250 miles south and back. We were over the moon.
Bert performed perfectly all the way to sunny Sussex by the sea. Riley did his usual forty nine different positions on one back seat with two cushions routine. Jelly Babies were consumed. One service station was briefly visited for leg stretching and dog walking. Drive through coffee was obtained and so incredibly welcome after setting off a bit later than planned and wanting to stay awake for the best bit – the part of the journey where I spot the first oast house and the first white half weatherboarded house and feel overwhelmingly ‘home’. Tree lined A roads wind up and down (as opposed to just flat) and eventually the sea comes into view, with its familiar seafront architecture and shingle beaches.
On arrival I usually take over the driving of the van rather than shout left here, or right there and sometimes I have been known to say, ‘oh crap I can’t remember which way’. It’s been that long. M is beginning to get to know the roads but he cannot for the life of him remember that the coastal order is Hastings, St. Leonards on-Sea, Bexhill, Eastbourne, Brighton. One day the penny will drop! On this trip I didn’t take over at all. Pretty soon after we arrived M noticed a clutch slipping issue and he was a little bit miffed about it. We had the clutch done just before Christmas and it should have lasted a lot longer than a couple of thousand miles. So I’ll skip all the boring mechanical talk but the net result is that Bert needs a new reconditioned engine. Bugger.
We limped on for a few days and took it to a local garage just to see if there was anything they could do. There wasn’t but they were amazing guys with huge knowledge and experience, it was a pleasure to talk vans and Scotland and dogs with them. They quite liked Riley and Riley quite liked them. The luxury for me was chatting to people with my own accent. There are no right and wrongs when it comes to accent but I most definitely get a good chunk of my hearing back when I talk to people where I’ve grown up. M was quite taken aback on the first day when he returned to our outside table with coffee to hear a neighbouring table say, ‘it was nice chatting, enjoy the new puppies.’ It’s something I rarely do up here.
With the clutch presumably liable to go at any moment we stayed very local to Grandad. He lives a short walk from the beach so we were happy to spend most of our time parked sideways on to the sea and well and truly chill out. Riley was incredibly happy about his early morning walks up Galley Hill for the views and then a gallop down the grassy field back to the van. Mid morning he had a swim in the sea followed by a snooze wrapped in towels and then by mid afternoon he was hinting at another little dip and a walk. One afternoon we had to go searching for a belt and shoes for M (don’t ask, this was one trip I said I wouldn’t supervise his packing for) and by the time we eventually rolled back up beside the sea Riley was barking with excitement – this has never happened before. I totally get it but I didn’t expect him to be verbal about it! So, a lot of these photo’s are of our many walks at different times of the day. It was never the same walk twice. Sometimes the tide was in, sometimes out, sometimes people write ‘BUM’ in large letters in the sand (see pic). That made me laugh. The kids always thought that word was hilarious. Guaranteed though, the light on the water was always different.
We did make it over to Hastings to one of our favourite cafes, Hanushka. It’s dog friendly with great food and coffee. We quite like the floor to ceiling books too. There’s actually two, a small one in the Old Town and the larger one in the (now a bit grotty) town. The latter used to be a shoe shop, in the photo you can see where the fenced off spiral staircase leads down to the basement where they kept the shoe stock. It was always hellish buying school shoes there because I really just wanted to live in something more suitable to running about and climbing trees. I’d have a proper measure up and then be offered two revolting options. By revolting I mean a girly touch like a small flower or dainty buckle. Gross.
Happier times were spent round the corner in the Children’s Library. A busy Mum meant visits were all a bit random but I read everything I could get my hands on back then, coming out with five books was like carrying the Crown Jewels. In fact the Robertson Street side of town has one more little gem, Wisden’s Sport Shop. There was always something we needed for sport, my brother and I. Dad was often the one in charge of acquiring sporting goods with us. On one memorable occasion he took us to the cafe next door for a cold glass of Coca Cola after we’d chosen cricket balls or shin pads or whatever. You could always tell when he had a trick up his sleeve he was about to share, a subtle look in his eyes if you knew what to look for. Back then you could rely on having a bowl of sugar lumps for your tea or coffee and we all know what happens if you pop one in your Coke! Well we do now thanks to that day and the best part was Dad being well and truly told off by the waitress and the three of us giggling like children when only two of us actually were!
There are flashier seaside destinations and those with amusements, rock and candy floss but our few days in Bexhill had everything we needed. I can always persuade M to buy only M&S food supplies when we are on holiday with a nearby branch. Neither of us want the fuss or bother of eating out just yet. We replaced our tiny camping frying pan recently with a proper sized one and christened it with steak and mushrooms. I kept hearing about an instant buttery mash, we had some in our van food box and for someone who is very suspicious of instant food it was absolute winner. The meal tasted all the better for being eaten with a view over Cooden Beach towards Eastbourne. In fact that was the evening we nearly acquired an extra passenger when a small boy of about 3 decided to climb in and was hastily pulled out again with his Mum explaining that they have a very similar van!
Despite the many things we had planned to do and the places we could have visited for the rest of the week we finally set off for home a few days earlier than planned. We squeezed in as many cups of tea and chats with Grandad as we could and I came away with that sort of resigned feeling. There’s not much I can do about living where we live right now, I just have to bide my time and hope that it can eventually change. We picked a late departure intentionally and it paid off, the roads were clear and we made a deal, if we made it to Pembury then we’d keep going. A silly deal but at Pembury we ate, filled with fuel and coffee and after a brief moment of struggling to get it into gear we eventually got going. The smell of burning clutch was pretty bad to start with and we had the windows wide open to the cold night air. On a slow, straight bit I climbed into the back and wrapped Riley up in blankets and then climbed back into the front cab and dozed on and off for the rest of the way, unfortunately waking up properly to find M swearing about a long diversion we were on and having to change gear more frequently for. He has also been known to wonder out loud why road repairs aren’t undertaken at night, you can’t have it both ways!
It was a miracle we made it home and the next day we dropped it off at the garage to confirm what we already knew. In the grand scheme of things vans needing engines and cutting our holiday short should be trivial things in life but had it not been for the distraction of new four legged arrivals I think I would have just wanted a few duvet days to feel sorry for myself. Being an adult is a constant challenge. I have a very sensible head on my shoulders but sometimes I say one thing and do another. M is pretty much the same. We both agreed that the few days we now had before our previously agreed puppy picking up date should be spent doing yet more preparation for them. About 3 hours later we’d arranged to go and pick them up. With Harvey we had no problem removing him from two chain smokers and a playpen full of empty Fanta bottles (what were we thinking?). These two however, had the loveliest start in life with a little boy to run and chase and both their human mother and dog mother seeing to their every need. It felt awful tearing them away from it all. They have of course settled in now and charge about as if they own the place and seek us out for cuddles whenever they aren’t sure of something or just want a comfy nap.
Riley has been superb and we knew from his behaviour changes when Harvey didn’t come home that he was the type of dog to thrive in a multiple dog home. He has given them a barked warning when they bite his ears or his tail but otherwise he seems to think they are quite fun things to have around. Play fighting is a popular game between Woody and Arthur and sometimes goes a bit too far. Arthur yelped during one such session yesterday and Riley immediately went over and licked him. I think they will all enjoy the proper walks we can start with very soon.
Riley had a health check up recently and the new to our veterinary surgery vet said it was not possible that he was 12, that the paperwork must be wrong. Apparently his teeth and general well-being suggest a dog that is much younger. We do have the paperwork even though we adopted him when he was 4 so we’re pretty sure he really is 12 but it’s nice to hear that he’s in great shape. Just because we’ve added two to the numbers doesn’t mean he’s getting any less love or attention.
Gone but not forgotten, we are now able to look back on all the fun times with Harvey. He really was a character in a chilled out, laid back, passive kind of way. If anyone went away for a few days he would wait in the hall for them, occasionally wandering up the garden but then straight back to his lookout post on the hall floor. When Ella went to university he spent an entire week waiting in the hall for her return. Lucky for him she did come home that first weekend – all part of readjusting to life away from home.
So we reached the highest village in the Highlands and sat in the van enjoying an ice cream. The van always causes a minor stir but there was something else about the small villages and places we stopped at, a relaxed, welcoming feel. Local shopkeepers would more often than not come outside if the shop was quiet to enquire about our journey. Mostly, I observed M chatting and the body language seemed to me as casual as if we passed through every day for a vanilla cornet.
For some, the prospect of having no fixed plan or destination would cause more stress but for us there was apparently none. Had we booked a site I’d have been watching the time and the miles and making sure we arrived at an acceptable hour. Instead our next objective was to wind our way to the next patch of forest and let the dogs have a proper run and a swim if they were lucky. Finding woodland and access to it seemed to be as easy as spotting trees and driving towards them. Daylight hours were long and spontaneous walks like this should have been carefree, with nothing more to do than live in that moment. When I did hear, ‘so how far are we walking?’ or, ‘what are we doing next?’ I did my best to avoid answering. If I couldn’t, I’d gently ask if there was anything pressing that needed to be done or any desire to be doing something else. We were so lucky with dry, warm weather and most of these forest walks were in dappled sun with the heat amplifying earthy moss and fragrant pine aromas.
Since I started natural dyeing I never tire of checking wild places for dye potential but also, memories of wild flower names learned as a child came flooding back so now I mentally check those off in my head as I walk too. Lichen, fungi and signs of wildlife all add to the visual entertainment of a walk. No-one need ever be bored walking in the woods.
We found a fishing spot for one of our night time places. My heart sunk a little when I saw the group of fishermen at the end of the quiet track but I saw M’s eyes light up and knew it was something he could relate to in the same way that I enjoy forest walks. I only asked that he was a bit more subtle than his usual bounding over and introducing himself. In the fifteen years I’ve knownM he has received more frosty receptions from fishermen than friendly. There were six of them fishing but not spread out along the bank, they were circled around a bench and clearly chatting more than fishing. M did a restrained nod in their direction and only began a conversation when one of them drifted in his direction. One by one they all drifted along the bank to chat and a good time was had by all. Far better than interrupting their get together and then pretending you know all there is to know about fly fishing (the latter may have happened anyway.) He was very happy just to have seen some Salmon leap.
The River Spey is Scotland’s fastest flowing river according to various sources. It was indeed peppered with floral tributes along the bank and that made me very wary indeed. Deep sided banks and fast flowing water meant keeping both dogs well away. One of the fishermen didn’t hold back on having an opinion about us having to roll the bed out and retire into our small space with two dogs for the night. He had a large white motorhome and kept three Springers in cages outside all night, most definitely a different deal than ours had, one curled up in a soft sided dog bed and the other sneaking on top of the duvet when he thinks we are asleep, but each to their own and there was no howling in the night from them. We don’t really think too much about the space we are lacking in a T2, we like the nimbleness of the vehicle and the fact that we can go pretty much everywhere an average car can go, park in the smallest of car parks, perform tight three point turns at the end of dead end tracks and get plenty of miles to the gallon. The best part though, is seeing someone smile as we go by.
When we arrived at Aviemore I imagined a town full of ski-wear and sporty types but actually it was middle aged hill walkers that dominate in early June. We slotted the van neatly into a parallel parking side road and went in search of a decent coffee. It didn’t look hopeful but we struck gold at the town’s delicatessen which also sold fresh bread, cheese, milk and eggs amongst all manner of other treats. I was less impressed with my first experience of Lorne sausage – made with minced meat, rusk and spices, an acquired taste, it’s possible the strong coffee clouded my judgment. With our tiny fridge packed with milk and cheese and a large loaf of olive bread secured we set off once more.
Our next stretch of road towards Kingussie could have followed the main A9 but our steady 50-60mph and need to stop frequently was better suited to the scenic tourist road, the B road that runs pretty much parallel. Much less door handle clenching views and some lovely places to pull in especially to take in the view. Alarmingly some quite substantial lorries use this route and one of them overtook on a stretch that was frankly death defying for both of us. A sheer drop to our left and on a sharp bend. It was the only time that M swore at another driver and he usually does plenty of that locally.
As with most of our time in The Highlands we drove through pockets of thick mist that seemed to roll in from nowhere without warning. At times it looked like it would stick around all day but just around the next bend would be a whole new micro climate of welcoming sun. On one such sunny gravelled viewpoint we pulled in to stretch our legs and make a cup of tea. Across the road were two men filming the vast valley laid out before us with a professional looking camera. Before I’d even flipped the kitchen lid up M was half way across to their Volvo estate to ask them who and what they were filming for. After quite a chat and lots of arm waving and looking back at the van he returned to tell me that one of the BBC cameramen was from the next village to us, went to the same school as the kids (a few years earlier) and played cricket with all sorts of familiar names, families we know. Small world in a place that seemed so incredibly large in a pre-historic kind of way.
Bert seemed to be doing pretty well on fuel economy despite all the ups and downs and the miles we were clocking up. At home M has a bad habit of waiting until our 4×4 or the van is running on fumes before he even thinks about filling up. On our road trip he would often top up after half a tank. Finally, some sound logic since petrol stations were few and far between. Although making a conscious effort not to use technology we did succumb and locate small inland fuel stations on occasion and had some of the nicest exchanges with people, all curious to know where we’d come from, where we were going and which route we were taking. Most were quick to offer suggestions when they heard we had no plan, no fixed route and this is how we found some lovely scenic places to stop. Water carriers were filled, the windscreen de-bugged, fuel topped up and a vague notion of a destination to head for. I started looking forward to petrol top ups.
There were one or two nights when we left it a bit late in the day to look for night time places. We didn’t panic, there were always plenty of options. Camp sites were always in the back of our minds as an emergency measure. We also had our Brit Stops book which we used on several occasions for phone ahead places only to find they were fully booked. Apps were frustrating but mostly gave indications of areas that might have good places. Had we been travelling without dogs I think our options would have been far greater, we had to reject anything too close to the road. Despite what seemed like a lost cause on a few occasions we were always settled by 8 or so except for our first midge invasion!
Guides seem to agree that midges arrive at the beginning of June and this is extremely accurate. After a particularly carefree day of forest bathing, river gazing, slow walks and simple picnics sitting on soft carpets of pine needles we set off to find an overnight spot described favourably by an app. Reviews were very recent but none had mentioned the signs saying ‘no overnight parking’ so we had to move on. Using the satellite mode on our phones we were able to look at the area as if from a drone. We spotted a small gravelled clearing at the edge of forest nearby that looked ideal. It was absolutely perfect, set back from the road, no signs and not blocking any gates, so we got our chairs down from the roof rack, fed the dogs and we were just having a rummage in our metal food box to decide what to cook on our little two ring van stove when M heard some quiet whimpering sounds. It took him a minute to work out that it was not local wildlife but our own four legged friends. They were covered from head to toe in midges and looking very sorry for themselves. Riley had both paws over his head with his face buried in his chest. Until then we’d batted the odd one away but they had suddenly descended en masse and were beginning to dig in. Our tiny can of insect repellent was hastily found and sprayed on everyone including the dogs. We quickly got them in the van, packed up the chairs and sat laughing our heads off while swarms of millions of the buggers milled around outside the windows. There was no chance we could stay for the night so we found ourselves back on the little single track road once more each silently wondering where the hell we’d end up.
Incredibly we did find civilisation once more in the form of a village pub that allowed motorhomes and campervans to stay in their unnecessarily large car park. I have long since abandoned any park up snobbery in favour of safe park ups that suit the dogs too. The only time we will reject a place is if it doesn’t feel safe. The car park had a large number of vans all seemingly together and with various fighting dogs loose or in cages. We decided not to take our chances with Harvey being a bit unsteady on his legs and Riley being the protective brother who is otherwise frightened of his own shadow. It doesn’t take much for one of them to slip through our legs and out of the side door.
From midge infested forest to rowdy pub to goodness knows where. We hit a proper B road and by this time M said he didn’t really care if we just drove all night. We seemed to get a second wind of energy, it’s hard to be miserable or stressed when you’re cruising along in a fifty year old van with everything you need onboard. We reflected momentarily that it might all go belly up from now on, that we’d had some amazing luck but that might not last. We even toyed with the idea of a campsite for the first time and then signs for Fort William came up. M is a big fan of a McDonald’s breakfast muffin but he’s never keen on an evening meal there but this was one occasion when he actually said, ‘God I could murder a burger right now!’ Bert chugged through the drive through and we parked up and demolished a cheese burger each. Phone research taught us that we’d reached a city that did not seem to want motorhomes overnight, the nearby Brit Stops were all full and driving off again was becoming likely. At this point, despite a cheeseburger meal, I declared that I really needed some chocolate. It was getting on for a week and I hadn’t even thought about chocolate let alone eaten any, a most unusual state of affairs. I offered to keep the dogs company while M battled masks and the Scottish accents behind them and he trotted into Lidl with strict instructions to buy the biggest bar he could find. Clutching only a modest sized bar of some unidentifiable brand he crossed the car park with a disproportionately large grin on his face. ‘How would you like to curl up in bed right now with the next part of our Scandinavian crime drama?’ Special permission had been granted to use the Lidl car park, I tell you, this man can sell ice to the eskimos.
Making sure everything was topped up, water, fuel, oil and tummies, we set off for who knows where. South was our general idea. We stopped often for dog leg stretching and cups of tea or freshly brewed moka pot coffee. Looking back on the trip I’m so glad we had the time to just go at a pace that suited the dogs. Harvey was a bit of a man’s man so he’d often settle beside M and Riley beside me. It really only took the great outdoors to make Harvey content. The woodlands in Dumfries and Galloway were warm and sunlit and that’s how I’m going to remember Harvey, bounding over fallen trees, offering us pine cones and sticks, living life to the max. One of our last nights was at the most perfect spot for us. We had it entirely to ourselves. The dogs had a shallow clean stream and grass to dry off on. A picnic bench made life easier for our evening meal. Mountains to one side and woodland to the other. Funnily enough this was the spot we were most unsure of because it seemed too good to be true. Just one thing spoiled it… midges.
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