Around the ruined Priory

This is a classic view of the ruined Priory. It's not as large nor as well preserved as some of our other great Yorkshire abbeys but its setting in a curve of the River Wharfe does make it rather beautiful. Looking down to the river from the ruins themselves, much of the floor plan just exists as broken walls. 

There are traces of what would have been a cloister, with a piscina in the wall. 

Some of the tracery of the windows and doors remains. 

The graves to the north and east of the Priory Church are relatively recent compared to the 850 year history of the site and the graveyard to the east, sloping down towards the river, is still in use. 

It's rare that you can see much of the detail of a stained glass window from the outside, but the sunlight shining through the larger windows on the south side of the nave illuminated those on the north side quite effectively. 

The Priory Church

The colourful Advent wreath was still on display in the Priory Church at Bolton Abbey. It's not a huge church, taking up just the nave of what was once the Augustinian monastery's church, but it is beautiful and has an interesting history. At the Dissolution of the Monasteries in 1539, special dispensation was given to the local villagers to continue to worship here, which they had been doing since 1170. The east wall, behind the altar, was built in 1539 to separate the nave from the rest of the priory that was sacked and is now in ruins.  

Rebuilt in 1877, the east wall is now painted with flowers and symbols including Madonna lilies, a reminder that the church is dedicated to St Mary. 

Various renovations in the late 1800s included the addition of six windows by Augustus Pugin, a leading figure in the Gothic Revival. (See three of them below)

In the side aisle there is a stone altar, the oldest item in the church and probably the original high altar, in use by 1170. During the Reformation, many stone altars were destroyed. They believe this one was saved by being used to cover the entrance to a crypt. It was rediscovered and re-erected here in 1985. It had a brass plate set in the middle that showed the name of the occupant of the crypt but there is speculation that that was added over a hollow that might originally have held a sacred relic, covered by a thin sheet of stone. If that's true, this is rather a rare piece. 

This Anglican church remains rather traditional, leaning towards anglo-catholicism. The lights above the altar are kept lit day and night to indicate that the Blessed Sacrament (the bread and wine used in Holy Communion) is reserved here. The Reserved Sacrament is used to give Communion to the sick and housebound.  

The flower arrangements in the Priory Church are always beautiful. I suspect there is at least one professional florist in the congregation, or perhaps they 'buy them in', since the church attracts so many visitors. 

Bolton Abbey village

After the Christmas and New Year break, followed by some icy weather, it's proving hard to motivate myself to start going out again, even though the paths and roads are safe. I did eventually manage to persuade myself into the car to drive to Bolton Abbey. It took forever to demist the windscreen but once that hurdle was conquered, the half hour or so drive passed without incident. I usually park down by the riverside but this time I parked in the main village car park, thinking I'd take a few photos in the village itself.

It proved more difficult than I anticipated to find good compositions, as the buildings are really rather spread out and the roads narrow. There's this little village green, surrounded by a few houses. Two of them are now cafés and one was an attractive bookshop specialising in antique and rare books, though it looks as though that has now closed down. 

The village postbox usually has a 'topper', so there must be a local crochet enthusiast. This one celebrates the New Year - and the numerous local moles, whose underground presence is disclosed by the molehills all over the place!

Along the road there's the famous arch in the wall, 10' 9'' (3.28m) high and 9' 5'' (2.87m) wide. It's amazing that tourist coaches and the Dalesbus can squeeze through here! (See HERE). It always feels tight when you're in a car. The wall is apparently part of an 18th century aqueduct, and is now quite a tourist attraction, though hard to get photos of as the approach road is so narrow with no footway. There was little traffic about so I dared to walk along. 

Near the arch, one of the estate houses has some interesting decorative features. The Bolton Abbey Estate buildings are not as distinctive as those of some of our grand estates but, with their solid gritstone ashlar blocks, they are still quite attractive.  

Of course, the grandest building of all is The Hall, the private residence of the Devonshire family. When they're not here (ie: most of the time), it can be rented as a holiday home. Built as a gatehouse to the Priory c1325, it was converted to a shooting lodge after the Dissolution of the Monasteries in 1539 and has subsequently been altered and enlarged. 

Pie n Pickle Plod

There's an organisation called 'It's Grim Up North Running' that organises races right across Yorkshire. They were apparently behind races along the Leeds-Liverpool Canal this weekend, starting and finishing in Saltaire: 'Sir Titus Pie n Pickle Plod'. Entrants could choose to run 5km, 10km, 10 Miles, Half Marathon, Marathon or Ultra. I stumbled across it on my usual walk. It all looked very well organised, with marshals and portaloos. Obviously it would have been more photogenic to have been there at 8.30 am when they all set off... but there's no chance of that (for me) on a damp, chilly, misty and thoroughly miserable day. Though I suppose that's perhaps a good day for running. 

By the time I arrived, a few runners were back (including Scooby Doo!), presumably just finished. 

Running is clearly a popular sport these days. Whenever I walk along the canal towpath I am always passed by at least one and often many more folks slogging along. To be honest, very few of them look that fit! Perhaps appearances are deceptive. I've never been a runner myself. Even as I child I hated it, it used to give me a stitch in my side. So kudos to anyone who tries. 

I've just been marvelling at those very hardy souls who enter the Winter Montane Spine Race, running the entire length of the Pennine Way: 268 miles of non-stop endurance running, mostly in atrocious conditions. This year the start coincided with Storm Goretti, which brought snow, ice and gale force winds. Read about the races HERE. This year's winner was a Frenchman, Sebastien Raichon, in 95 hours 43 minutes and 52 seconds. The female winner, Brit Anna Troup, took 106 hours, 19 minutes and 12 seconds. In some ways, those who take longer are more resilient, having to endure the dreadful conditions for anything up to seven days with hardly any sleep. Utterly mad but also astonishingly brave. I don't know why it doesn't get more publicity, but perhaps it's deliberate to stop crowds of onlookers converging. 

Evening in Roberts Park

More early evening wandering, this time in Roberts Park. It's probably my favourite time of day to see the New Mill, when there's still a bit of colour in the sky and the lights are on in the NHS offices, enlivening the reflection in the river. 

You get a double value sunset when it's mirrored in the river. This one wasn't stunning but it was quite pretty. The lights of the Boathouse glowed invitingly. This was a boathouse in Victorian times, when people could hire rowing boats on the river. It's been a bar/restaurant for as long as I can remember. 

The bandstand is lit with coloured lights and provides a lovely focal point above the Half Moon pavilion. 

Opposite the bandstand, the statue of Sir Titus Salt was silhouetted against the evening sky. 

 

Three local images

More of the artwork I have in my home... 

Over the years I've collected a few pictures of local scenes. The first two are both prints by the Yorkshire artist Stuart Hirst. Stuart is more or less my contemporary, and studied at Bradford Art College before going on to do a degree in Fine Art at Exeter University. He is perhaps most well-known for his 'wet streets' paintings. The print above, 'Rain Stopped Play', and the one below, 'The Road to the Mill', are two of them, depicting the rain shining on the ground. 

Both these have a deep meaning for me personally. The gable end of the house above is the end of the row of terraces where I used to live. It borders the Caroline Street playground, which has been upgraded (and grassed) since the picture was made. When I first moved in there though, it looked very much like the picture. The lower of the two is, of course, a view along Albert Terrace and, though it has more foliage along the length now, it still looks the same. (See HERE)

The third of these scenes is a print called 'Hidden Treasure', depicting Salts Mill at night, with the lights glowing and a touch of the mysterious about it. This one is by the Bingley-based artist Jane Fielder, an active member of Aire Valley Arts. I bought it at Saltaire Festival because it reminded me a bit of one of my own photos. (See HERE)

 I enjoy having this little trio of of local scenes. 

(As always, my apologies for the reflections in the glass, which I try to minimise but which still creep in!).

Seeing things in a different light

The sub-zero temperatures have eased, though it's still quite cold. Tuesday turned out to be a better day than forecast and I longed for a walk. Unfortunately I had to wait at home for a parcel delivery that didn't arrive until late afternoon, by which time it was starting to get dark. I went out anyway. Sometimes it's good to see familiar scenes in a different light. 

Salt Brewery, in what used to be the Edwardian tramsheds built in 1904, looked attractive and inviting with its glowing lights. Though open, at that hour it wasn't exactly busy. 

Sunset was creeping in by the time I got down to the canal, just a gentle glow, not spectacular but still good to see. 

Parts of the canal were still frozen, meaning that some of the ducks were standing on ice and others swimming in the water. That's not something you often see. 

The lights in Saltaire were beginning to come on by the time I reached the village. People were making their way home from work and college, no doubt relieved, as I was, not to be slithering on ice. 

What's on the needles?

Since I started to learn to knit a couple of months ago, I've never not had something on my needles. I'm trying to be sensible and take things step by step, as I think it might be quite easy to get discouraged by attempting something too complicated. I can, however, see that I'm making progress in reading my stitches, spotting when I've gone wrong (and rectifying it) and generally getting neater, with more even tension. I've been trying different combinations of stitches, with simple patterns that have been mostly straight knitting, though I've started to learn to increase and decrease now. 

Currently on my needles (above) and almost finished is a baby blanket, in acrylic. I'm pretty much making the pattern up as I go along. I've discovered I don't much like using acrylic but, for something that is going to be donated to the baby bank, I can't afford to spend a fortune plus it's washable and practical for a busy young mum. 

I've knitted two little boat-necked sweaters, one in soft lavender cashmerino and the other in a sage green shade, both for the baby bank. 

I used the same lavender yarn for a 'Sophie scarf', which is a long, thin triangular scarf with an I-cord edging, that taught me ways to increase and decrease. I enjoyed that pattern so I also knitted the same scarf in red DK yarn for my daughter for Christmas. 

The rest of the family also got gifts - a regular scarf for my son-in-law, wrist warmers for my older granddaughter and a little blanket/coat for younger granddaughter's favourite toy goat! 

I have not dared to try circular needles yet but I decided I'd make a square baby hat; I quite like the effect when they have two little pointy bits sticking up! My sewing up leaves a bit to be desired... I'm going to have to improve that. Anyway so far, so good. I'm certainly enjoying myself and when the weather is too cold and icy to go far, it's good to have another hobby with which to pass the time. 

 

Nostalgia

 

I was idly wondering whether writers go back and reread their own novels, or diarists thrill again to their own journal entries. (We all know that famous Oscar Wilde quote: 'I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train.')  Maybe I'm odd - or self-obsessed! - but I do occasionally like to look back at my blog, which is, after all, a record of what I've been up to for the past eighteen or so years. So I was looking back ten years, to 2016 and I found, for the 13th January, this delightful memory:

"And she's off....

We are fortunate that the town of Halifax is almost equidistant between my daughter's new home and mine - and even more fortunate that it holds the fabulous National Children's Museum: Eureka. The museum was in its infancy when my daughter was a child but is continually renewed and re-envisioned and has gone from strength to strength. My granddaughters love it - and so do we adults, as it is a wonderful place to take them when the weather precludes outdoor play. With both children still being under school age we can go during the week when it's quieter. It gets packed, as you can imagine, at weekends and holidays.

On our recent visit, E, who is four, was captivated by the workshop devoted to transport. She 'drove' a lorry, took a car through a carwash, filled up with petrol and then donned overalls to change the tyres. A future in Formula One looks assured. One-year-old M was curious at first ...  and then decided the smooth floors were perfect for getting in some walking practice. She is so proud of her new-found skills and balance.

Up...  steady...  and off she goes.....'

I loved looking back at this. Little M, the adventurer, now eleven, is still curious, brave and bright. She's a lot bigger, of course! In the meantime, she grew her hair until it reached below her waist. Last week, she had it chopped off into a very stylish, short, razor-cut bob. I believe her intention was to donate her long plaits to a charity that makes wigs for child cancer patients. 

Leeds station

I'm afraid I've not been doing anything very interesting since New Year. It's been so cold and icy that I've tended to avoid going out (even though we've had very little actual snow here, to speak of). Our hospitals are under such pressure; the last thing I want is to slip on the ice and end up in A&E facing a long wait for treatment, so I've been staying safe and cosy at home. 

I did venture across to Leeds on the train one day, to meet a friend. I was mildly amused to spot a man in the station concourse standing talking, quite loudly, to a mobile phone on a tripod, obviously filming himself. It looked quite a serious endeavour, as he even had a script of some sort in his hand. (Of course, deaf old me couldn't hear what he was saying.) I did wonder whether it was one of the local TV channels, as he looked vaguely familiar, though I'd have thought they could afford an actual camera operator and not rely on a mobile phone.  Modern life's zeitgeist is that everyone younger than me (and there are a lot of them!) seems to be permanently either 'talking to themselves' or cut off from the world with massive headphones. I find it really weird. 

Meanwhile, outside the station, work goes on to 'improve' the environment. They are enlarging the pedestrian forecourt; moving the bus shelters and spacing them out so there’s more room to wait for a bus and creating an additional pedestrian crossing to make it easier to get to and from the station. They say: 'We want to make a significant difference to the look and feel of this important ‘gateway’ to Leeds and the wider city region. We want visitors to get a great first impression of our city as they come out of the station.' It seems to be taking forever though, and is currently quite disruptive to pedestrians and traffic. 

The Light of the World

Once Christmas is over, I quickly tire of the decorations hanging around: the tree, the Christmas cards and so on. They rarely last until Twelfth Night in my house. I packed them all away on the 31st December this last year. I did, however, decide to leave a string of lights that I'd draped around my mirror, for at least a while longer. I like the way they bring a bit of cheer to the darker end of the sitting room, especially in the evenings when the various lamps make pools of light and the little LEDs sparkle. They're slightly annoying, since every time I switch them off at the plug I have to cycle through all the 'modes' again when I switch them back on! (Whoever chooses the flashing modes must risk a seizure every time!) I also might have to find a better way of securing them than the masking tape I've used, as they do tend to keeping falling down! But I might keep them lit until Candlemas, which is on February 2nd, traditionally the day that commemorates Mary and Joseph presenting Jesus at the temple. On that day, some churches bless the candles that will be used throughout the year. 

'When Jesus spoke again to the people, He said, 'I am the Light of the World. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.'   John 8:12