Maggie and Uncle

Younger Son, Nuora and GrandSon4 moved out today. I am happy for them - a young couple should have their own space and privacy - but I'm sad for me. I was going upstairs just before they left telling myself, 'Don't be silly. You don't have to get upset. It's not as if they're going back to Malaysia. They're only moving down the road!' It didn't work though.

Meanwhile, in my last post I mentioned that we found some interesting things in amongst Uncle's possessions. One of them was this invitation to 10 Downing Street to meet Margaret Thatcher. I assume he went even though he was a Labour supporter in much the same way as my great-grandfather, another socialist, used to frequent the local Conservative club because it had a good billiards table.

I knew he'd met Princess Diana on a number of occasions but he kept strangely quiet about a get-together with Maggie.

* * * * * *
It was a gorgeous day today so out came the legs! For the first time this year. And I even shaved them.

While our men carried on with the moving, Nuora, GrandSon4 and I enjoyed a walk in Clyne woods and park.

The old Clyne Castle once the home of the Vivian family and later student accommodation is now luxurious flats.

One of the Vivian family, an admiral I think, travelled the world and brought home many plants especially azaleas and rhododendrons. Some are already blossoming but it's May that sees 'Clyne in Bloom'.

And I've just discovered that one of the tallest Monterey Cypress trees and the tallest magnolia trees in Britain can be found in the gardens. 

George, me and the black kettle

You can't tell from this photo but when George returned from kennels he was a little barrel. Normally he's quite shapely about the waist but it had disappeared.

I said, 'George, honestly, when they're in kennels most dogs pine for their owners. They stop eating and lose weight; you've come back as a roly-poly podge.'
George looked at me then said, 'Two things: a) have you considered that I may have eaten to bury my sorrow?'
'Um, no. But it's not likely is it?'
'But it's possible though?'
'Well, yes, I suppose so.'
'Thank you. And b) I'd just like to say two words: pot kettle.'
'Point taken. I won't mention your fat belly again.'
'Thank you.'

He decided to follow me to the top of the folly in Clyne Gardens today. Here's the folly:

And here you can almost see George thinking, 'Okay I'm up here but what do I do now?'

Why you should never take advice from Indiana Jones

There've been a lot of changes since we first started walking over the tip and through the woods. Back in those days it wasn't unusual to see a boot or other rubbish poking up through the surface of the tip; today nature has fully reclaimed it and it's a lovely walk. And walking in Clyne woods with just the sound of the birds and the stream it's hard to believe that it has such an impressive industrial heritage.

The old train line to mid-Wales ran up through the valley: a victim of the Beeching cuts I believe. Now where the train track was is a paved path for walkers and cyclists. But the woods are full of indicators of the valley's history. From the  remains of arsenic works to the quarry, from the bell pits to the brick works, the signs are still there if you look for them.

Today I decided George and I would explore the parts we hadn't covered for a long time, including the quarry, which is now barely identifiable as such, so great is the woodland growth. From the quarry we turned towards the river and a part of it we don't usually walk.

And that's when I had my great idea.

'Let's have an adventure, George!'

'Must we?' (George prefers the familiar.)

'Yes, come on, it will be fun. We'll try and follow the river down to where we normally join it.'

Which is what we did - and when the path ran out we went river-trekking. Until we reached this.

At this point I said, 'What would Indiana Jones say now?'

'Go for it!'

(George isn't convinced.)

Then at this point, about a sixth of the way into the tunnel, as I tripped over yet another branch and slid on a slippery rock while cold water dripped down the back of my neck, I said, 'That's the last time I listen to Indy.'

I could have persevered but what if I'd fallen? I didn't have a phone so I could have just lain there and died. And George would have sat with my body slowly starving to death himself. (Yes, I can see that happening too.)

To be honest my real fear was that I'd stumble across a body. Yes, I know it's not likely but it wasn't worth taking the risk of needing lifelong therapy and never being able to venture into a tunnel again. So we turned back. 

And got home in one piece.

Conversation with a dog

'Oh look, George, that's an unusual bird.'

'That's not a bird; it's a leaf. Get your glasses on, you blind old bat.'
'Hey, less of the old, please.'
'You said it.'

There's not much I could say to that.

Actually I may be a deaf old bat too.

A man and his dog approached us. The dog ran ahead to say hello to George and the man, as he passed me, said, 'Panyatatail?'
There wasn't much I could say to that either so I just smiled.

Blooming lovely

Clyne in bloom on a grey Bank Holiday Monday.

Old and new

Clyne Valley, where George and I walk most days, has a long industrial history. The steam train to mid-Wales used to run through it and there were railway sidings, bell pits, a quarry, arsenic works and the old Killay brickworks. Today nature has successfully reclaimed its own and very few traces can be found of its past, except for occasional glimpses of the remains of old brick paths.

I don't know if you can tell from this rather blurry photo but the small green shoot has grown up through a crack in the dry dead leaf.

Spring is definitely here!

It was the hottest day of the year so far today, and the hottest day of George's life. It might have been as warm yesterday but we didn't go out in the middle of the day so George didn't experience a hot walk until this afternoon.

Currently, even in repose, I'm a bit of a heavy breather, so, on reflection, walking up a hill that makes me pant normally, on a hot afternoon probably wasn't the wisest thing to do. George didn't think so either. But I wanted to see if the sunshine had brought out the bluebells in the secret wood. (They've started but the woodland floor is nowhere near carpeted yet.)

The woods we walk in - Clyne - are next to Clyne Gardens, which is renowned for its azalea and rhododendron displays in late April/May. Nature being what it is, the rhododendron bushes have spread into the wood and threatened to overpower the native vegetation. The City Council began a clearing project that lasted about two years; I've written before about how much the woods have changed as a result. Today we spotted this rogue camellia bush - but I'm not telling where!