August, Part I...

August began with the annual regatta - and, of course, the sun shone, the water sparkled, and the commentators got the giggles when anyone ended up 'in the drink'. Jolly good show, what?!

The garden did its usual delightful thing - looking particularly lovely as the sun was going down.

A day in Bury St Edmunds with Mr Drookit, and the Girl, wondering what the houses were like behind these doors.

I started training for a new job, which involved doing a bit of travelling - no hardship in summer, spending an hour on the top deck of the bus, looking out for miles and miles over fields of gold and green.

The garden was filled with goldfinches, and paintbrushes gathered dust for another summer.

A vintage fair in the local church hall drew a good crowd. Much lipstick was applied.

In the middle of August we had our annual Olympicnic - an institution now. We didn't bother trying to find a Commonwealth themed title, in honour of the games in Glasgow, but instead stuck to variations on the theme. Misanthropicnic, myopicnic, and so on. Don't mess with a winning formula, I'd say.

Games, grub, guitars, oh, okay, banjos... good times!

Overtaking myself...

If I don't get a move on I'm in danger of being overtaken by myself, and will be posting things a year after they happened. There seems to be no time to catch up on everything, so I think a quick run through the last few months is in order. What do you think?

July found me back once again accompanying an old friend to her mother's house to continue the task of clearing it out. Still lots to look at, and to photograph.

The month seemed to melt away in a haze of heat, filled with bees buzzing, flowers blooming and what looked like tropical sunsets. I popped into London and visited an old neighbour, and we sat for an hour or so in her garden eating choc ices. Lovely as it all was, no regrets about leaving London...

Jill's cat, hiding from the sun.

The 'village', looking prettier than ever - and yet, not more than 5 minutes stroll away...

...this part of London just gets busier and busier.

 

Back home, the meadows were the backdrop for ambling, and the garden was the playground for bees and butterflies, birds, snails and miniscule frogs...

 

Homeward Bound....

Via Ashbourne, for tea and cake in the St John Street Gallery - some lovely bits and pieces, including paintings and prints by names such as Barbara Rae, and Donald Hamilton Fraser. Of course, we also oohed over a couple of lovely quilts draped over the mezzanine level - we are crafty types, after all. A bit of a grey day, as if to remind us that our holiday was coming to an end.

A pretty little building on the main street.

To Helen's house, which is always a joy for us too infrequent visitors. Mr H had provided several different pizzas with exotic toppings - my new favourite being pear and St Augur cheese, which was just delicious... Haven't made it myself yet, but I will! The best thing about going to their house is doing the wander round... What's changed? Where's the new artwork? How are the chickens?! So, lots of sighs of delight and enthusiasm from me and Karen...!

One of Helen's beautiful artworks on the wall...

Amongst so many other lovely things, a new print on the stairs, some zany sculptures by the boys, and a chance for me to see Karen's gorgeous lap quilt, made for two special 'H' birthdays last year...

One of Helen's beautiful vases, and a gorgeous print by Helen Rhodes.

Cat, crochet, cake and yet more chat - just in case we hadn't managed enough whilst we were away.

And, next morning, before we left, a last look around at all the lovely things, little still life groupings, assemblages, and the chickens. Until next time...! xxx

One of Mr H's fun pics.

Bakewell Tarts...

Time to catch up with our second full day in Derbyshire, which dawned frosty and cold - but with a beautiful view from the house. But, oh, what an embarrassment to find out that we had missed the Aurora Borealis the previous evening, as we knitted, and nattered, and drank wine. Ah, well. It's something I've always wanted to see, but I'm sure I will. One day!

A wander round Wirksworth, first thing in the morning, and a visit to the Farmers' Market - so characterful and full of characters!

Nice hat!

Then off to Bakewell, famous for its tarts. Over the bridge, and into town, passing the now ubiquitous padlocks - or is that a little cynical of me? It's a bit like those pictures of teddy bears or garden gnomes, taken in front of the Eiffel Tower, or Grand Canyon - just too many of them now!

Cakes, tarts, meringues, bread, cheese, and all sorts of other good stuff to eat, in delightful and individual shops. A quirky little dog, carried by a glamorous and indulgent owner, and a lovely flower shop tucked down an alleyway caught my attention.

Time to head home, and I was captivated by this hilltop and its trees as we sped past in the car.

A quick stop at a fabric and sewing shop; based in an old church with fabrics displayed on the old pews, it was one of those places where I could easily spend a small fortune, so enticing were the colours and patterns. But... I'm sensible these days. No, that's a good thing. Really.

I took a quick walk when we got 'home', up onto the path behind where we were staying, and discovered a lovely view of the town stretched out below.

A bit of knitting, a bit of knattering (yes, correct, if the nattering is mainly about knitting), a fab dinner made by Helen (cake by Karen!) and then off to the Northern Light Cinema to see Enough Said, a lovely, funny, and thought-provoking film starring James Gandolfini and Julia Louis-Dreyfus, which I'd heartily recommend - we all stumbled out afterwards wiping tears away! The cinema itself is really charming - each seat is covered in mis-matched fabrics, and with armchairs and couches in the back rows, with tables to put your wine glass on, it makes for a very glamorous and civilized evening out. I'd imagine being a regular there if I lived in Wirksworth - no wonder booking is essential!