Not a chess term – just a few lovely days checking out Welsh castles. Here is a taster or two…
Hay on Wye
OK, so Hay on Wye is a bit of a cheat – but it has been jumping in and out of Wales for years! And the view of Raglan is from the back, rather than the front – famed for its ‘machicolations’ (*A machicolation – French, machicoulis – is a floor opening between the supporting corbels of a battlement, through which stones, or other objects, could be dropped on attackers at the base of a defensive wall.*…)
Don’t you just love a new word to describe castles? I added ‘slighted’ *archaic
raze or destroy (a fortification)*…to my list as well!
If you enjoyed the book cover game, you may like the ‘book titles with the last letter missin’ game:
My favourite image so far was created by Vicki’s *Lynne Reid Banks gets an Aussie twist with The L-Shaped Roo*
This was the nearest I could find:
Over to you!
image by Dixie Allan
This ‘Book Cover’ game is going viral. Here is my take on my childhood favourite: L M Montgomery’s ‘Anne of Green Gables’.
sorry I can’t embed it in the post – my technical know-how has fallen at the fence!
As the rain continues to fall, interspersed with the odd few hours of sunshine, indoor tasks become the focus of my attention. The puppets are now complete:
Meet Abe and Estee – now headed off to join the ‘Open the Book’ team.
And now I return to the Big Tidy Up – you know, the one which starts with enthusiasm, drags to an end in exhaustion and then begins all over again when another busy week’s worth of clutter is dragging you down. Glug, glug, glug.
So, the ‘to do’ list is born and lurks in the kitchen. Even putting something on the list which I have already done, so that I can tick it and feel good, is not convincing me that I am making progress – and now the sun is trying to pierce the gloom of overdue-for-cleaning windows.
Hey ho, never mind, it will soon be raining again!
The other day, choked with a weariness born of household chores, I sought fresh air and a brisk walk around the village, just as dusk was nearly upon us and folk had turned on lights but not yet closed their curtains. This peep into other lives revealed similar domestic toil – the ‘light duties’ of tidying drawers, sorting through the heap of paper in the kitchen, cleaning round the sink, finding homes for the minute detritus of 21st century life. Solidarity created a sense of a shared task – alone in the kitchen and yet one of an army of busy ants, bringing order to chaos.
Then, a low sun caught the catkin branch near the road and the catkins seemed to dance with the simple joy of living. A nearby bank filled with snowdrops quietly inderlined the theme of hidden, service.
(I hope no-one overheard me – it came out louder than expected in the hollow evening air.)
Time for tea and toast and a new page on the ‘to do’ list. No false entries today – pure reality will do,
I’ve put away the tinsel, the lights, the Christmas scene,
I’ve tidied up the clutter and vacuumed, swept and cleaned.
I’ve fingered cards from loved ones, with messages sincere,
Placing memories in boxes – stored for another year.
With bins all overflowing, rubbish blowing down the lane,
The wind takes the recycling – the bin men aren’t to blame.
‘The days are drawing out now,’ a neighbour says to me,
Walking swiftly down the lane to throw off lethergy.
Inside the ravaged kitchen, order is restored;
The calendar turned to this new day – its motto quite ignored.
I do not want to play the fool and hope for better things -
Content within, I envy not the ‘Palaces of Kings’.
As each year brings its challenges, its hopes, its joys, its fears,
There’ll be enough to cope with, without sentimental tears.
So, as Christmas decorations disappear into the loft
I’ll run and catch my friend up – to prove I’ve not gone soft!
The British are good at weather. We really do love talking about it and we have a strange attitude to it too. We always feel that Our Weather is Special. Other parts of the world disappear under floods, or freeze, or burn – but a foggy day and we truly believe that ‘The Continent is Cut Off’. We love to moan – it’s too hot, too cold, too windy, too dull, too…. However, it has actually been pretty stormy over Christmas and New Year, and I can’t say I enjoyed 4 hours + travelling through wind and rain yesterday – ending with a flooded road, only half a mile from home.
Christmas was affected by the gales. I am thinking of rewriting the Nativity story for a British audience: ‘And lo, Mary and Joseph did huddle together, with the inn keeper, in a vain attempt to stay warm. In the violence of the storm the stable fell over backwards, so the inn keeper drove in tent pegs and tied it up with string. Mary brushed the worst of the wet straw from her dress and gingerly placed her first born son in a very soggy manger, for the Rectory family could not see that it would have been much more sensible to carry them all into the house.’
Hmmm, maybe not – I’m not sure it would catch on!
ps even Sherpa was not content to stay there!
Thank you to all the new visitors, for popping in to see me. Sherpa wishes to reward her fans with a couple of Christmas photos (of her!) (What have I started????)