Another nice day here today - not quite as warm as yesterday, a sharper wind blowing and a hazier sun, but still dry and a pleasant day for a walk.
It is the over sixties exercise class this morning - an hour of concentrated exercise, which covers just about every muscle in the body. Friend W and I go together and feel it is doing us good although we come out of the hour's class pretty shattered.
Also Pancake Day (Shrove Tuesday) today, so lemon juice pancakes for lunch. A great tradition in the UK and not one to be missed. The maker of the pancakes has to be strong minded otherwise he or she gets hardly any because of making them for others. As there are only the two of us we take it in turns to make them - I make the farmer's and he makes mine. All very civilised.
In spite of being tired I still needed to take Tess for her afternoon walk and we did the same one as yesterday, down the pasture, through the muddy gateway and up past where the farmer is cutting back the holly hedge. We like to leave holly where possible as the birds (particularly the blackbirds) love to nest in it. But the farmer measured and the holly had come out almost three metres in to the field. This is a field he only bought a few months ago and it has been badly neglected. Imagine three metres each side of the field, that means six metres of unproductive grass land. It won't do, so I am afraid it has to be cut back and put on the bonfire.
Astonishingly the ground had dried up tremendously since yesterday lunch time. Our pastures are mostly medieval and still show the rigs and furrows of that system of farming. Today the rigs are quite dry although there is still a lot of wet in the furrows. Also I was able to take a short cut coming back by crossing what was a stream yesterday and today is just a trickle.
A frustrating walk - one because my ankle is really not up to walking (but if I don't walk on it, however painful, it will just sieze up in time), but also because Blackie, the farm cat, insisted on accompanying us and on walking about six inches in front of me and weaving back and forth.
Home again now, slippers on, blog on shortly, then wood burner lit and feet up is the order of the day.
Lovely thought for the day, a quote from Roger Deakin's 'Notes from Walnut Tree Farm' which I am re-reading at the moment. He is talking about friends: "I want all my friends to come up like weeds and I want to be a weed myself, spontaneous and unstoppable. I don't want the kind of friends one has to cultivate". Amen to that!