Looking into Deepdale.
The last day of our Easter holiday (apart, that is for TBH who still had the rest of the week to look forward to). 646 more words
Helm Crag and Seat Sandal above Grasmere.
Early December, I have a Monday off work; the school is closed, a one day holiday. Ordinarily, I would prefer not to have an extra day off in December, when daylight is short and the weather is likely to be ropey, but it seems that I am in a very tiny minority amongst my colleagues who voted to continue our recent practice of having a long weekend in December. 597 more words
Another post walk escape, on a beautiful summer evening. I parked by the village rooms in Kentmere despite the signs warning me that, it being polling day, the parking was needed – it was very quiet and it didn’t seem likely that hoards of people would be arriving to register late votes. 584 more words
My old friend JS had just one more Wainwright to bag. He is, I think, the most well-organised man I have ever known (I say ‘man’ advisedly, I’ve worked with a few women who would give him a run for his money) and typically he had planned out his Wainwright bagging so as to leave the last for his 50th Birthday. 487 more words