My trip ‘home’ was very much a tale of two halves. The first week was warm and sunny which meant that Archie and I headed for the beach every day. My childhood Cocker Spaniel, Susie, used to walk round anything remotely wet like a puddle. We took her to many coastal spots for long walks and she always managed not to get wet at all. So I was impressed that Archie headed straight for the water and started off with a good old paddle. There was just one occasion that he went in near a breakwater and quite literally bobbed underneath the surface for a second, this is not something you need when you’re dog sitting! I was moving towards him in a nanosecond but then he bobbed up, paddled towards the shore and confidently hit sand once more.
Archie does have one thing in common with Susie though and that is the potential for edible items is never far from his mind. Some of the things he was interested were borderline ‘edible’ including fishy looking things washed up on the shingle. He has a knack for finding the point at which the tide turns and starts receding, therefore locating all the rubbish that gets washed up. He ignored my suggestions that the sand was more interesting and easier to walk on so in the end I had to join him and over the course of that first week we added three tennis balls to our collection.
The promenade fascinates me now in a way that it never did when I lived here. Some mornings we were down there by 8 in the morning (thanks to bright sunshine streaming in and messing up my usual slow starts to the day). Some evenings we were just about using up the last of the daylight. It seemed as though all ages were out at both of these times of day. Babies in prams. Kids on scooters. Older people driving motobility scooters, joggers, dog walkers. I know I’ve said this before but it’s all so darn sociable and accessible and there’s no washing mud off everything with hoses afterwards. Harvey and Riley would miss their daily hose down if we lived here!
I think it was towards the end of the first week that I received a rather distressed message from M. He said that if he didn’t see the funny side he would probably be more cross than he could cope with. So he simply explained that Riley had come back after his morning wee in the field and told him that he was unfortunately taken hostage by a gang of foxes, tied to a tree and sprayed head to toe with fox poo as a punishment for venturing onto their patch. A week later and I am still laughing about it. It is extra funny because that was one morning I didn’t have to deal with it myself. There was no point in the usual ten minute drying off on towels routine so M opened the gate into the kitchen, at which point Riley could easily have made a bid for his bed but instead he walked, with his head down, straight into the bathroom and voluntarily got into the shower cubicle. M said he laughed so much he had tears running down his face. He wasn’t laughing quite so much when the warm water hit the fan let’s say. It tends to increase the strength of the odour somewhat!
During that first week Grandad and I were able to get out and about. We had some nice lunches out. We popped over to a nice little town near here and browsed some charity shops. There was even one day when it was warm enough for him to sit and catch some sun on the seafront. Then came The Beast from The East. I must admit I thought it would never happen, we’ve had a few false alarms this year. We both stocked up at the beginning of the week and that proved to be good timing. Thereafter Grandad stayed in the warm and I walked the few miles there and back to have a cuppa and a biscuit or two. The snow hasn’t been deep here but it’s been enough to make paths tricky. Given that the average age here is probably 90 I was surprised that the town centre paths weren’t salted. You’d think shopkeepers would at least want to keep their customers safe. I helped one old woman out of a shop doorway and over an icy patch to safety. I wanted to walk her home but I’m really not that outgoing so I just hoped she didn’t have far to go.
Modern technology was a useful thing for once with daily reports of weather conditions coming in from West Yorkshire, Lincolnshire and Jersey. E, J and M respectively. M’s second trip to Jersey was very bad timing with the weather closing in on the evening before he was due to fly home. All flights out were cancelled on Thursday and he’s on a transfer flight today but I’m not holding my breath. Both E and J have much more snow than we have here. School and university lectures were cancelled. Notably E’s priority was a good cup of coffee and J’s was Haribo, both trekked out in the snow for these! I’m a fine one to talk though, my immediate thought was chocolate! The local shop was quickly cleared of milk and bread which wasn’t too much of a problem. If they’d run out of chocolate now that would be a problem!
Crochet is obviously the ideal hobby for a snow day. I’m over the thrill of making snowmen or getting cold and wet with snowball fights, though I did take note of my cousin’s tip and made some snowballs for Archie to catch. He does indeed like this game. I think he liked wrestling with the towel I tried to dry him off with even more.
I whipped up some quick wristwarmers with a tweedy Aran yarn I found in a charity shop. There is usually quite a bit of yarn to be found here thanks to the older generation. Since they were a big success in that they actually fitted nicely for once I’m planning to make these again when I am home and can raid my pure wool stash. I’ve got a hank of Croft by WYS that will be ideal and warmer than this oatmeal yarn. I might make them a tad longer too.
I’ve made good progress with E’s diamonds and bobbles jumper and will bribe her somehow so that I can get a modelled photo when it is finished. Just the sleeves to do now. All of the projects I brought with me were one colour projects. When the sun disappeared for a few days I had the most unusual and rare for me, craving to make something colourful! I just don’t do colour unless it’s a special request from E or something for my niece. I came across the Coachella scarf pattern on LoveCrochet (a simple puff stitch construction) then went out into the Beast to gather up half a dozen odds and ends of DK to get started. I quickly realised that the ends were going to be huge in number and actually joked on instagram that I would be calling them ‘a fringe’. Well I’m further on with it now and the fringe is a definite possibility. I remember seeing someone on a train with a scarf edge of ends just like this and I think I might just get away with it.
I packed a couple of other crochet projects but wasn’t in the mood for them. I find crochet goes like this sometimes. E’s jumper for instance was ideal for accompanying a good Netflix film. Likewise with the puff stitch scarf; no counting required. Both good snowy day projects to get comfy with, alongside a film, coffee and a bar of Green and Blacks. I’ve done so much walking here because it’s been such a lovely change of scene and also because I didn’t have a car. I think my knee might finally be cooperating. The same cannot be said of my foot where I broke a bone right on the edge five years ago. I’m resigned to that being a nasty nagging pain for good now. I plugged music in for some walks and it’s a great way to distract the mind which reminds me to tell you about an amazing thing I witnessed early one morning. The tide was out far enough to expose some rocks and in the middle of a large flat one there was a young girl, about E’s age I guess, singing her heart out. Obviously I couldn’t hear her but the hands and arms were moving in a musically theatrical way and she was dancing on the spot too. When I got a side view I could see she was belting out a power number. What fantastic courage and a thoroughly inspiring spot to practice!