My life in boxes

Nearly all packed up. Too tired for words! About to dismantle my computer and broadband, and will hopefully be up and running at the new apartment before too long. 

 

Swept along

A couple of photos from a recent walk by the Strid at Bolton Abbey. After heavy rain, the river was rushing with some violence through this narrow but very deep chasm. 

The photos, I feel, have some resonance with my current situation. This 'moving house' business has proved very rocky at times, and pretty stressful. I'm only glad I didn't leave it another ten years to make the move or I fear I'd not have had the stamina and resilience. It has taken a full six months, from making an offer on my new apartment and accepting an offer on my house, to being able to move. Ridiculous - and largely due to one incompetent and insouciant solicitor (not mine). However, all is finally in place and I expect to be moving next Thursday. 

I'm now getting swept along in the maelstrom of Things That Have To Be Done: last minute packing, notifying important people and authorities of change of address, getting things set up for my new abode (broadband! most important), arranging for the delivery of a new fridge-freezer (mine here is integrated so has to be left behind and there isn't one at the flat) plus looking ahead to a myriad of things that will need fixing and sorting once I get there. It feels a lot, considering I'm only moving half a mile up the road!  The most fun is trying to gauge my food stocks so that I use up most of it and don't either have to buy more or transport a lot of odds and ends. I suspect I'm going to be eating some weird combinations of things by about Tuesday, much as you do before going on holiday. Sardines and baked beans, anyone? 

So... wish me luck - and I'll see you on the other side!

And for those that prefer coloured photos, here's another one of the Strid:

Purple reigns

And now the purple crocuses are out in Roberts Park. 

Snowdrops

It's the season for snowdrops and there seem to be plenty in bloom in parks, gardens and by the wayside. They are always lovely to see, delicate harbingers of spring. 

Progress

They seem to be making good progress on the renovation of the canal towpath. The gravel underlayer has now been tarmacked and kerbs put in. It looks like they have relaid all the stone paving slabs by the bridge. A day-glo orange-suited man was sprinkling sand (or loose cement?) and brushing it into the gaps between the pavers. He saw me taking the photo and gave me a cheery wave. 

For some reason, it reminded me of a tale I was told by my mother. When I was about two, we lived in a house with a gravel path. She caught me putting handfuls of gravel through the letter box in the front door. When she asked me what I was doing, I said 'Sprinkling'. I'd heard her talk of 'spring-cleaning' and thought that's what she meant! Anyway, Mr Path-layer was doing a great job of spring-cleaning.

Yellow cheeriness

A brief spell of sunshine tempted me out, though I'm busy at home. It was chilly but that encouraged me to walk faster and was no doubt a good thing. In Roberts Park, the yellow crocuses are in full bloom. For some reason the purple ones lag behind a little. 

Staying in

Well, we've had all the weather these past few days - wind, rain, then a brief flurry of snow (far worse in the hilly areas than here, where it hardly settled), then more torrential rain and now fog! I've hardly been out, though I have plenty to keep me busy. 

For my last birthday, my daughter gifted me a Storyworth subscription. They send questions each week for you to answer online, which gradually builds into a book of your memoirs. It's been fun to do. I've used the questions as a starting point but then written in my own style. Sometimes I think: 'I can't remember anything about that'... but then the recollections begin to reveal themselves and come creeping back. Anyway, I've been trying to get it finished before I move house, as I'll have different preoccupations once I'm in my new flat and wanting to get it redecorated and organised. The long wait for a removal date has, in that way, been useful as I've had time to finish, tweak and craft the book. It's almost done. 

As for the move, hopefully it is edging nearer! My solicitor tells me she is aiming for 29 February as the completion date, though she still has to get agreement to that from my buyer and some figures from the seller's solicitor (who is the one whose tardiness has been holding things up). So... fingers crossed! 

Wedding cars

As I walked past Saltaire's church the other day there was a fine selection of Bentleys outside. It looked like they were doing a photoshoot, perhaps for a wedding car hire company. There was a chap with a drone, no doubt intending to take some photos looking down from a height. 

The cars in the background are not related to the shoot. The church now seems to allow people to park in the grounds, presumably making a bit of money from the fees. Every little helps when you're responsible for the upkeep of a listed building. 

Rainbow glass

More colour from Salts Mill. You know how fond I am of stained glass windows. Well, coloured glassware comes a close second. I'm especially drawn to blue glass and, when I finally get into my hoped-for new apartment, I have several vases and bottles that I anticipate will sit happily on the kitchen windowsill. Given the number of pieces on display in the Antiques Centre, I could easily add to my collection. 

Some folk collect old bottles like those below. The vintage glass has a turquoise hue that is quite attractive. 

More vases, displayed so that the incoming window light makes the colours sing. 

Those who follow Alan Burnett's blog, News from Nowhere, may recognise a few of these vases. They are, it seems, still unsold and gathering dust after at least four years. Apologies to Alan for apparently 'stealing' his image. It so happens that sometimes great minds think alike! 

Colour in t'Mill

It is all so colourless outside at this time of year, so I went into Salts Mill in search of some colour to lift my spirits. 

Sewing threads in the Antiques Centre made quite a rainbow. (Note to self, next time I need any thread this is the place to come!) 

The lid of an antique sewing box had a gorgeous, iridiscent inlay of abalone shell mother of pearl. 

It was too heavy to carry or I may have been tempted by this Burmantofts Pottery jardinière (for displaying a plant), in lovely colours with an art-nouveau pattern. My spider plant would be very happy atop that. 

In the 1853 Gallery they have some covetable notebooks, along with lots of artists' materials. The paint sample card made a bright rainbow too, as did the tubes of acrylic paint. 

 

Stirrings

We are still in the depths of winter. The trees are bare, the grasses and reeds collapsed, the air frigid even on a blue sky day and, if the temperature isn't actually freezing the ground hard, then everywhere is thick with mud. On the small nature reserve on the edge of Saltaire, the pond was - as far as I could see - devoid of life, though not frozen over. The duck houses, one of them floating, were bare. Perhaps in the spring they will provide a refuge for something, if not necessarily a duck. There's something about a blue sky reflected that lifts my spirits though. 

Look closely and there are other things to be cheered by too. There was a small shrub covered in pink blossoms. I think it's a winter flowering Viburnum x bodnantense. I suppose it is because I associate pink blossom with spring that this plant always seems such an encouragement in these dark, cold months. 

In the borders, and in my tubs in my back yard, bulbs are already sending up their green shoots.

This camellia in the nature reserve had large buds. (The colour at the back is an information board). 

On my way through the park I noticed yellow crocus starting to flower, though the ground there is completely waterlogged. I'm sure they don't usually appear until mid-February. I want to say to these plants to stay furled and not to bloom yet. We surely have some more cold weather and perhaps even snow still to come and they will get browned and crushed. It seems to me that nature has lost its rhythm just a bit.