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Lake Legends

A grim old Yorkshire Day.

Heading towards that LAKE in the distance. Lake Gormire.

It’s been on our hit list for years. It’s one of those LAKES that has had many old legends attached to it.

It’s BOTTOMLESS and as such it’s a gateway to Hell. Bottomless or 22ft deep if you believe the geological measurements….

It has a prehistoric monster, just not as famous as the one in Loch Ness….

A headless horseman who rides around its shores at night…..

A witch who could transform herself into animals, who jumped into the Lake to escape being burned at the stake and reappeared almost instantly in a local market town, many miles away…. That’s clever as the local bus only runs a couple of times a day, not at weekends and if it turns up it’s running monumentally late…..

Not to be outdone, a Goose apparently did the same Lake disappearing trick ….

A village once stood here but an earthquake swallowed up the buildings, just leaving a lake in their place. Occasionally, when the stars align, you can see the village if you look really carefully into the water….

A mighty castle once stood proudly here, but the owner murdered his wife and as punishment a mighty flood submerged the castle…..

One lake fact which can be confirmed, it was once named by The Times in a list of the top 20 natural swimming locations in the country. Without any feeder rivers or streams, it apparently has hardly any current and has an unusually warm feeling.

On this grim old day these were the only beasts we encountered.

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Years

I wonder how many years these wooden poles have survived the North Sea….

Looking in the mirror most mornings, they have clearly weathered way better than me. The front one has even got more hair than me. I’m not jealous, much 😂😂😂😂

We’ve been coming here since Hawklad was just starting school. Always the same routine. Find a parking spot where you can see the beach, let Hawklad see how busy it is. Too busy for him and we drive off, no questions asked. If it’s quiet enough, we hit the beach. Sometimes we don’t even park up, if the car park is busy, the beach will be.

So how does he manage concerts and now a F1 race.

We have a routine. Always try to buy the two seats at the end of a row, the back or front rows are best. If those seats aren’t available, then we don’t go. It’s the same for the cinema, has to be the two end seats on the front row. Hawklad takes the end of row seat. Sometimes that’s not enough and Hawklad decides it’s still too much. There have been a few concerts, movies and a football matches where it just never happened, still feeling too crowded, just never felt right for Hawklad.

At Silverstone it was even better, 168,000 watching an F1 race. But we still were able to find two end row seats, with no seats behind us. Plus next to our two seats was a roof support column, three more seats missing. Hawklad found space amongst the masses. All we had to do is arrive really early to miss the queues to get in, let Hawklad get to his seat before the crowd mayhem started. Setting off at 3.30am sorted that out.

That felt early, too early. Probably one of the reasons I’ve weathered worse than those beach poles.

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Letter to you

“Tried to summon all that my heart finds true
And send it in my letter to you”

The words of Bruce Springsteen in LETTER TO YOU

Eight years back, when we were going through Mum’s house we came across a letter. Not to us, but still a letter. A decades old letter that indicated Dad had been married and divorced before he met Mum. We had no idea. Without finding that letter we would never have found out. I can imagine asking Mum …..

Why didn’t you or Dad mention this small fact…..

And I can already hear Mum’s response ‘Well you never asked dear, now go and put the kettle on, there is an old Clark Gable movie starting on the telly in a couple of minutes…..”

A friend in the village once told me that after his partner died he found a LETTER. A beautiful letter from his partner which talked about unbreakable love, wonderful times, happy memories and the best of times. The letter also talked about starting again, finding happiness, living life and maybe love again.

Definitely summoning all that my heart finds true.

I found a LETTER TO ME. With trepidation I opened the letter addressed to me. Not from the end but from a few years back. My partner liked to go on overseas solo adventures and I guess before every trip she wrote a letter just in case the worst happened. One of those letters had become hidden in other stuff and had become long forgotten.

I didn’t find too many expressions of love, no heartfelt messages. This LETTER TO ME basically reminded me to

  • Inform X,Y and Z.
  • To stop her Accountancy Subscription Fees.
  • Cancel her hair and dentist appointments.
  • To check her clothes pockets before I take them to the charity shop.
  • Make sure I clean her car out properly before I sell it.
  • Don’t forget to paint the front door.
  • Remember to put the bins out on a Tuesday…..

Not sure that’s the kind of thing Bruce was writing about in his song.

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Somethings are written in Stone

It’s been hot here, well hot for Yorkshire. Touching 30C for day after day. On top of that, it’s been seriously dry this year. Our area was the first in the country to get a hosepipe ban. Hardly a drop of rain for weeks, the reservoirs are no more than a third full. We do need RAIN.

Some things are just written in Stone…..

Hawklad loves F1 motor racing, so this year he got his first taste of seeing it for real.

The British Grand Prix at Silverstone. 165,000 fans about to get VERY WET.

Even the Drivers getting very wet….

One support race Red Flagged and stopped as the track was too dangerous.

Talk about four seasons in one day. Blazing sunshine, fork lightning, sudden wind storms, torrential rain.

But thankfully there was just enough blazing sunshine and three of the biggest sponges ever…

Hawklad got to see his first live F1 race.

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Grand Old Castle

Brough Castle, built around 1092 on the grounds of an old Roman fort.

Once a grand old well kept castle. Once an impressive, seemingly impenetrable fortress. Attacked by an army from Scotland, destroyed and rebuilt. Rebuilt to be stronger, even more impenetrable. It was for 250 years…..

Then it met its new destroying army in the form of a Christmas Party… in a desperate attempt to cook the Brussel Sprouts properly, a fire broke out, destroying much of the castle.

OK I’m guessing on the Pesky Green Veg Villain, but something went badly wrong with that Christmas Feast in 1521.

The castle was partly rebuilt in the 17th century, but within a couple of years, fire struck again. Maybe don’t have 24 fireplaces…..The harsh northern weather has subsequently taken its toll since then.

Far too many children in the UK never get the support they need from the health and education systems. Hawklad was fortunate, it took over two years but he finally started to get some of the support he needed. Over the years that support made a real difference.

Then the day he reached 18, it was pulled. There is no equivalent adult support service. It’s only been a few months since then but I have started to see some changes, not positive ones. Hard earned progress starting to slow, halt or even reverse.

How many more are in the same position.

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Tree house

Now that’s a proper tree house…

You just never know.

There is a chap in the village. Seems a really happy chap, enjoying retired life. Always pleasant, probably smiles more than me. Easy to talk to. Seems to have plenty of friends in the village and always visiting. He walks with a stick, doesn’t walk too far but manages to spend a lot of time with his wife in their perfect, beautiful garden. They seem so relaxed.

This week I found out that he is really struggling with depression, has been for a couple of years now. He is deeply unhappy with retired life. Deteriorating Mobility issues forced him to give up his much loved job. He is unable to take part in his favourite hobbies now, golf, cycling, hillwalking, ballroom dancing, tennis. He feels like he has to spend far too much time in the garden these days. Even their holidays have changed. Once active, exploring filled adventures are now quite limited, quiet, sitting by a pool, in a cafe or on a patio holidays, plenty of time to read. The type of holiday they both always wanted to avoid.

I had no idea.

You just never know.

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Bruce

There are concerts and then there are CONCERTS….

Just a bit closer to the stage than the last time we saw BRUCE.

It’s strange how life works out sometimes. When I was much younger, I really wanted to see Bruce but the stars wouldn’t quite align. There was also quite a bit of that ‘shedloads of time in my pockets’ thing going on with me. No rush, plenty of time to sort stuff out.

But the years and decades rolled on. Bruce got older. I got older. That growing, nagging feeling, is there really plenty of time.

Then life hit the buffers. Bereavement. Single Parenting. Life felt like it had stopped. Permanently stopped. Bucket list stuff, things like seeing Bruce seemed like a million miles away and ever receding in the rear view mirror.

But slowly life started to spin again. A different life. Now a growing realisation that I won’t figure most things out in life, why things happen when they happen or don’t happen. That really clever, brilliant stuff is way beyond my pay grade. The other growing realisation, we really don’t have plenty of time in this life, but maybe, just maybe most of us will be given ENOUGH time to get enough done. Enough time to learn and grow. Enough time to experience enough in life, the good, the bad. It’s how we use that time, what guides us, our priorities, the choices we make, the doors that are opened for us, the doors that are closed to us, how we deal with the stuff of life.

No Bruce for decades and then wonderfully, unexpectedly, twice in 13 months. It’s a funny old life.

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Summer of 69

Trip to see the wonderful Bryan Adams. The last time I saw Bryan, I was still in my twenties, wow where did those years go. Looking at most of the crowd, I bet there were quite a few thinking the same.

Odd times back then. I had been with this girl for nearly three years, about that time we had started talking marriage and kids. Planning for the future. We went to see Bryan starting to plan for the long term.

Yet just a few months later, it was over. Life happened and we went our separate ways. We parted well and vowed to stay friends, maybe try again if the right moment came. But staying friends was maybe the problem. We could be friends but never really developed into best friends and soul mates. Careers took us in different geographic directions and we ended up seeing each other only once in the subsequent few years. A nice restaurant meal around the time a certain Bryan Adam’s love song was never off the radio. I remember almost asking her if she wanted to try again, but couldn’t find the words and I wasn’t completely certain. From a mutual friend, apparently she thought about asking the same thing but likewise didn’t. That was it, haven’t seen her again, decades have passed. No idea where she is now.

So last week when Bryan played that love song, it took me briefly back, I had completely forgotten about that time in my life. To a relationship that came close but never quite worked out for both of us. No regrets, just hope she did find the one, someone who could be her best friend and soul mate. Someone I was never really going to be.

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Dog walkers

Couple of hours to ponder life as Hawklad takes an exam at a local college. Passed quite a few dog walkers along these tree lined avenues. A couple of thoughts struck me….

Many of the dog walkers looked so stressed out. Polite but no many smiles. Some talking on phones, some head down looking like they had the weight of the world upon them, some purposely keeping their distance.

Yet every single dog looked happy. Tails wagging, some carrying sticks, some chasing balls., some diving in and out of the undergrowth. All keen for attention and a stroke as they passed by.

Something might be going on here….

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Storm Farage

A peaceful walk in a Forest. But it’s not always this peaceful. It took the Forest Rangers quite a while to deal with the aftermath of the last storm which hit the area a few months back. Lots of tree damage still evident.

In the UK there is a new word hitting the dictionaries. One which has several meanings. The word is FARAGE. Often found in the phrase ‘Nigel FARAGE is a …..’

FARAGE can mean to some – a wise and gifted political orator who is a man of the people.

But FARAGE can also mean ….

a Charlatan…

a Dangerous Opportunist…

someone who feathers his own best…

someone who tells others it’s wrong to be a part of Europe, has denied the right of his countryfolk to have free access to Europe yet keeps his own European Passport, enjoys unlimited access to Europe for himself .

someone who screams immigration is bad/foreigners are taking all our jobs, filling our schools and hospitals, YET is married to a French Woman

someone who bemoans Europe for how it’s wastes taxpayers money yet then keeps his lucrative European provided pension for life…

someone who is a fascist…

someone who is a racist…

someone who is a right f#@### w#@@#£#

The word FARAGE can also been a family commitment. Hawklad is one of those souls who struggles to find fault in others. Yet with Nigel FARAGE he gets very frustrated, very angry. ‘How can people vote for him, how can they not see through him…’

Once the idea of FARAGE being our Prime Minister seemed like a joke, but then we did get Johnson and Truss. Sadly now his party are increasingly winning local election seats. Unbelievably it could just happen. He could be in charge in a few years time.

That thought horrifies Hawklad. My thoughts are unprintable… Hawklad has made me agree (I didn’t take much convincing) that if that disaster ever happens, then WE will seek to leave the UK. See if we can move to say Ireland or France or Germany or Switzerland or Canada or somewhere that will have us.

All because of a nasty storm called FARAGE.