Memories of a Spike-Islander

No photos with this, but I will give a link to the name which will show one.  I grew up in Southampton, although the area I lived in still had plenty of wild bits and was close to the eastern edge of the town, so we were just a 10 minute walk from where the countryside proper began.

Spike Island was the name given to an area of common land - widely used by the Botany Bay road gypsies for tethering their horses when I was a lass - at the end of Botany Bay road, where it led onto Millers Pond (more of that later).  It got its name because it was apparently where the convicts were kept in the early 19th C before being transported to Australia.  The spike part of the name comes from them being chained to spikes in the ground to stop their escape.  You can see how Botany Bay road got its name too.

These memories have come about from conversations recently with another Spike Islander, so I am back to around 10 years old in my head!

Anyway, I guess I am a Spike Islander still, though a long way from home now.  When I was growing up there, children still roamed around in small friendship groups (boys usually in small usually friendly gangs).  When we were at Secondary school we walked for absolute miles - out as far as Hedge End and Botley, down to the Solent at Western Shore, and then on to Netley sometimes.   Even when I was only 8 though I can remember catching the bus to Woolston to change my library books and buy a tuppeny bag of boiled sweets from the very well stocked shop next door to it.  My teefs are living proof of this!

The house I lived in had been the brickwork manager's house, and the old brickworks was still there and in business when I was young.  The trackway down to it was in a gully behind our garden. Sholing was an area where there had been several brickworks, and prior to those, gravel pits, and there was much common land here before it was built on, largely from 1900 onwards.

When the brickworks closed down, it became our playground.  The other side of the track you climbed steeply up onto a field which had one side gouged out to provide clay for the bricks.  At the bottom was a pond beloved of wildlife, and a smaller pond which we called the Wall of Death. We used to run around this, a couple of feet above the water level and never fell in.  The secret was in running fast enough that you had a good grip on the edge.  Of course, we didn't let on to those outside our group, and can remember a few duckings - usually of the "drippier" children in our area.

The boys were always building rafts with left over planks of wood and barrels, but I can remember one occasion when they began to sink and we, the feeble girls, had to Rescue them by hauling on a mooring rope tied to the raft and we were the heroines of the hour!

Then there was Flamingo Marsh.  This was a rather damp area to the right of the Wall of Death.  Here, with the earliest plastic shopping bags tied over our shoes, we would walk, looking for Sundew plants to annoy with a piece of grass.  If you jumped, when you landed there would be a suitably impressive heaving of the marsh a few yards away, and so the whole boggy area must have been literally floating.  Fortunately we only ever got "booties" rather than disappearing from sight.

Then there was the machinery which remained from the brick making process.  Our favourite was a sort of gigantic mincing machine, with spade lugs around a central roller.  Of course, we would stand on the spade lugs and get the roller  to turn, never for a moment considering if you lost your footing you could have your leg trapped beneath and splintered in moments . . .

We learned to run very fast down in the brickworks too, as there were always goats tethered down here, although I can only actually remember Billy goats, and of course they sported a good set of horns and although they were tethered, we would dare one another to get close enough to stroke the goat (our mothers must have despaired!)  If we weren't running away from the goats, we were running away from the boys - on one memorable occasion my very flakey throwing (of a brick, naturally!) actually got its target and with a huge bellow of pain and anger, my target flew towards me like a bull elephant.  Fortunately I was skinny and nimble and managed to outrun him, but I had to keep out of his way for a good week after that.

On another occasion I was the victim of a well-aimed (or not!) flint which hit me on the side of the head.  It didn't hurt particularly, but when I put my hand up it came away covered in blood and I was terrified and ran home to my mum,.  Of course, head wounds always seem to bleed a lot but everyone was terribly impressed at the time, both with my blood and Alan Burgess's accuracy . . .

Talking of blood, and returning to Botany Bay and Miller's Pond, we used to go down to the pond to mooch about and in bored moments would stick our arm in to catch leeches.  Yes, you did read that properly, leeches.  They were a sort of sludgy green and maroon in colour and didn't take long to attach themselves to your skin and get stuck in.  I never seemed to have any ill-effects from them, though you would think it was not exactly "safe practice"!!!

A busy time

I have been meaning to try and do a blog post for this past week, but as we had our daughter T and her boyfriend coming to stay, I wanted to try and get the house clean and orderly and that took far longer than anticipated!

Anyway, when I was searching for something on line recently, I happened upon a listing for this lovely book.  It is just up my street - though I have no time for creative sewing at the moment, although that should change with the arrival of autumn.  I like embroidered works with lots of detail, and the beautiful embroidery and embellishment on Victorian and later crazy quilts.  An excellent book with excellent stitching guides.

When I was shopping in town today, I came across this lovely baking book in The Works.  At £20 off the original price I was tempted beyond endurance!  I want to cook just about everything in it, which is always a good sign.

However, my baking efforts this week have been nearly disastrous.  I have put it down to nerves at meeting Z for the first time, and first of all I mucked up a sort of upside-down Eve's pudding - though in my defence I think it was the method given for the topping, which turned out a bit like fruitless rock cakes!  I began to make a Blackberry and Apple cake from the same book (one I have used before and had many a successful cake), but because I wasn't concentrating properly I didn't line the tin, only greased it well, and needless to say when I turned it out half the cake stayed in the pan, so it became a 2nd pudding!

I don't know what I was worrying about, as Z is an easy-going young man, and he and T make a lovely couple.   They're off camping down in Pembrokeshire now, but we have a walk up to Llyn-y-Fan Fach planned for their return.  I think I am as unfit as it is possible to be to tackle the steady mile and a half climb up to the lake as I've hardly walked all year. It's a devil of a walk for me as the gradual climb is relentless - I prefer a steeper climb and then some level bits so I can catch my breath. Let's hope we have some more fine weather this week anyway. Photos in due course.

Anyway, G is home overnight at the end of the week, so we will all have a wonderful 24 hours together.  If only D were here too.

That's it - our holiday for the year is over!

Well, that's it for another year.  Our do-it-in-a-day go away holiday.  We had sold a chest of drawers we won't be taking with us when we are able to downsize and needed to deliver it to a friend in deepest Dorset.  We set off Saturday morning, and had a lovely visit with her and her family, looking over their new house (much to do - reminds me of when we first came here, 28 years ago).  I will respect her privacy by not showing any photos, but believe me, it is a lovely spot, and I want her orchard!!

We spent Saturday night at a camp site in Cheddar.  Very convenient - you could walk up into the town, BUT boy was it noisy.  I had forgotten quite how noisy it is when you are in a tent and can hear the least thing.  Let alone passing traffic (the nearby road turned into Le Mans after dark), the barrage of Fireworks in a field close to the site, followed by the Disco with the most awful music (I could have enjoyed 60s or 70s stuff!), then drunken revellers with loud voices returning to their tents and talking outside for ages, then a late returning car passing our tent. Not to mention people snoring, yappy dogs barking etc.   This would have been just about bearable had there not been an extremely loud church clock striking EVERY quarter throughout day and night.  We were extremely bleary-eyed after that, I can tell you!

Of course, we couldn't leave the area without going down Cheddar Gorge (and we had to drive up it in order to come down again.)  We stopped several times for me to take photos.  They are a bit hit and miss because I was so tired, but you get the general idea.  It is hard to imagine that it was once the most immense cave which lost its roof . . .

This cave entrance (crawling in!) was close to the road and some work had been done on it recently to clear debris.  I'm not sure whether this was done by potholers or archaeologists.

There were feral goats, and some Soay sheep grazing the steep valley sides.  A perfect location for them.

As you can see, nature has made the most of what is available and slippered itself into every nook and cranny!

Well, we had stayed at Cheddar because we had heard there was a HUGE car boot sale there every Sunday (along with market stalls too).  Of course, that was a temptation too great to pass by (much as I wanted to spend the night down on the Moor and have my fill of Dartmoor for the year.)  Had we had a better night's sleep we could still have had the day down there, but it was not to be.

Anyway, the car boot sale WAS huge, and we spent three hours walking round, buying some nice pieces for the Unit, and just generally relaxing.  We found a little cafe that did a good cup of Earl Grey, which please my OH.  We had started the day (at 5 a.m.) on very basic rations!  Home-made Banana flapjacks, but no hot cuppa.

Then it was time for home.  We didn't linger because we were both so tired.  We got back indoors mid-afternoon, which hadn't been our original intention, but at least the cats were glad to see us early (not that they had starved as a neighbour had been down to feed them).  Now it's back to normal and a huge clean up before T and her boyfriend arrive at the weekend.

Hoping against hope - house hunting in Herefordshire

There's a lot of "H"s there.  A bit like "In Hertfordshire Hurricanes Hardly ever Happen"!  You will have to indulge me - or should that be Humour?!

Yesterday we set off to view two properties in the area between Hereford and Ross-on-Wye.  No, we haven't got a buyer yet, but felt it was a good idea to check out two of the possibles on our list.  A friend has got an offer on her house and has been rushing round viewing properties, but faces losing her buyer as the property she has offered on has a vendor who also hasn't gone out looking yet.  I suppose there are two schools of thought, but we are in the camp that feels you should be able to move quickly if necessary.

I persuaded K to stop near Bwlch at the head of the Usk Valley so I could take some photos.  I've taken them there before, but couldn't resist the views.

It's a little further out than we ideally want to be, but it's tempting to consider properties this side of Abergavenny . . .

The fields lay dreaming . . .

We were early at the first house, so drove beyond it to the nearest village to see what it had to offer.  I had only seen the village on Google-earth, but it was every bit as pretty in reality.  A quiet, pleasant place with a pub, but not much else.

The house was one which, on screen, I had picked up on a lovely peaceful atmosphere.  Yes, it is a good deal smaller than our house, but suited us on all sorts of levels.  It was light and homely, with French windows out of the kitchen to the wrap-around garden (I've always wanted French windows!) It had an Aga-style cooker which provided cooking, heating and hot water (perfect). It had a small greenhouse and room for a polytunnel, and a big double garage for K's workshop/storage.  Two wood-burning stoves, and a master bedroom with a double aspect and en-suite.  Lots of boxes ticked. I was amazed to see a copy of a book about Edward Thomas on the coffee table and in the next room, scanned their bookshelves for more - which there were - and I had to be dragged from the room before I sat down and started browsing them!  So - we shall see what transpires.  A miracle may happen to send a buyer here for our house . . .

Anyway, our viewings on the two properties were mid-day and 2.30 so we had even more time to kill before the next viewing 2 miles up the road.  So we drove into Fownhope and stopped for a pub lunch, which was excellent.  Near the pub was this pretty cottage - it would do nicely but were it on the market, would probably be above our budget.

Although we ate slowly, we still had time to kill so after a walk around the village we drove up past the next cottage to get our bearings, and took some photos from the top of the hill.

Looking back at the village.

This was the view across the valley from above the next cottage, looking over at apple orchards.  It was a sublime spot, but unfortunately not the right place for us, as no outside storage and a steep flight of steps which although OK in the normal run of things, would have not been such fun when packing/unpacking for a Fleamarket or Antiques fair . . .  A shame as the garden had quite a few established apple and plum trees, something I always look for.

A glimpse of the lovely cottage.  Someone will fall in love soon I am sure.

Summer is passing so swiftly and there is more than a touch of Autumn in the air now, especially when it is a cold wet morning as it is today.  The red in the hedgetop hawthorn growth and sycamores and the Scarlet Herb Robert has passed and the predominant colours of the verges are pinky purple and lilac and cream from Willowherbs,  Knapweed, Thistles, Meadow Cranesbill, Purple Vetch, foaming Meadowsweet and tall Umbellifers of every description.

A breath of sea air

As you will have seen from the change of header photo, we headed for the nearest bit of beach earlier in the week.  Our nearest beach is either at Llansteffan or opposite at Ferryside.  Both have good clean sandy beaches.  One of the first things we saw was this upended jellyfish.  It was interesting to see what it looked like underneath - 6 central bits, and then 12 external divisions and 12 arms . . .  I think it is probably a Moon Jellyfish.

Here on the beach, looking across the estuary mouth of the River Towy, towards Pendine in the foreground, and Rhossili Downs in the distance, which is where I clambered a year ago with daughter Tam and my friend Deb.  I couldn't manage it at the moment as I have scarcely walked all summer (though I did do a walk today and surprised myself by getting up our steep hill with just one stop.)

Rounding the point past the castle, and looking across Scott's Bay towards the last spike of land on the Laugharne side.

Looking up at Llansteffan Castle.  Neither of us could face the prospect of climbing up there, and we settled for a beach stroll rounded off with sitting on a bench with an ice cream.

The trees are bent sideways by the wind, and grow nearly to the beach.

The retreating tide left some pretty patterns in the sand.

The clouds were starting to stack up as we looked back up the Towy estuary.  In 1971 and 1972 I stayed with a penpal who lived in a cottage up on the far hillside.  I thought it was so beautiful in Carmarthenshire and it was the main reason we ended up here!  She had to move, but the odd thing is our eldest daughter's best friend lived next door to my penpal's cottage. . . . a few years on of course.

Iscoed Mansion - or the remains of it - snuggled into the hillside.  General Picton lived there.  Sadly it was destryed by fire and is now just a lofty ruin.

More clouds arriving over the cockle beds.

Looking back towards the cottages which fringe the beach, with a lovely house on the hillside which reminds me of the ones in the Puddle Lane childrens' books my girls used to have, back in the day . . . Gosh - that's just brought back some memories . . .  Old Mr Gotobed, The Gruffle and the Griffle and many more!

One last look up the beach, and grandad is doing well with the kite-flying.

The beautiful kitchen garden at Chatsworth

Pictures, rather than words today.  I wish I could grow huge rows of SLUG-FREE Delphiniums here!

Achillea looks wonderful en masse like this.

Love in a Mist - Nigella sativa.

Drifts of Campanula.

I think this is Variegata di Bologna rather than Rosa Mundi.

A pretty unnamed rambler.

Colour everywhere.

Camera shake, but it looks rather nice like this . . .

Almost black sweet peas.

Then finally, it was on the bus back home, with Sheffield in the distance . . .

Lastly, an update on the grotty corner:

From this -

To this -

All my potted roses enjoying the sunshine there now.  I did a bit of "sweeping under the carpet" on that left wall as where there was some loose sand left that was hard to shovel up, I just swept it against the wall, put compost on top and planted it with (on left) scented leaf Geraniums, and further in, several pots of Dahlias which needed to get in the soil.  Now I am totally shattered . . .