Summer Time

Don't worry, I haven't entirely lost it. I know that it isn't Summer yet, but last night we moved the clocks on an hour and so went from Greenwich Mean Time to the wonderfully named British Summer Time. Six days ago we passed the equinox and so now we are moving steadily towards the Summer. Certainly the days are longer now and, from today, it will still be daylight at 7.30 in the evening. I do like this time of year! Now, if the cold winds would calm down, maybe we would start seeing a few more spring flowers. I have noticed that the buds on the trees are beginning to grow, so we'll soon have the trees back dressed in their green plumage.

I don't have time to write much for now, but I thought that if I missed this chance I'd probably not end up writing for ages, so I'll write something, even if it ends up being brief. Pat, my wife, has had a very full week this week, I hardly seem to have seen her and today she isn't doing anything. We have even skived off Church. We are going out for lunch to one of our favourite restaurants, even though it is called a Tea Room. We had Christmas Dinner there this year and it was wonderful. However, I only rang them up on Friday so I should be very grateful that they could fit us in at all. However, I'm off out for lunch in less than an hour, so be brief Kevin, be brief.

I've just had a very enjoyable walk with Jasper the Spaniel. We dropped down into the valley by walking down the path to Dinting, but when we reached the bottom dip in the path we cut off along a path that leads back up towards the old railway track. I've mentioned before, I think, that our little local railway used to be one of the arterial routes out of Manchester. The railway used to run from Manchester to Sheffield through the Woodhead Tunnel. The Woodhead was opened in the early 60's, I think, and closed again not long before we moved to Glossopdale. there was a huge fie in the centre of the Woodhead Tunnel that I think must have destroyed it's integrity. Anyway, the railway closed down because it no longer went anywhere.

When we first moved here the railway lines were still in place and the old line was just fenced off, you could not get near it at all. Then, in the early 90's, I think, they decided to lift the rails and turn it into a long distance walking route. It means that it is now the Longdendale Trail and is the main part of my favourite walks. But I've put pictures of the trail on here before.

Today, though, I was well away from the Longdendale Trail. When we came out of the path that led up from Dinting Arches we came out of a little gap in the fence and onto what I took to be another pathway. I turned left, back towards home, but I was bothered because I was on the wrong side of the railway lines and I couldn't think of anywhere that this path recrossed the railway. Here is a view of that path at this place.

There is something in the distance, but I wasn't sure what. Anyway, it was worth a walk. This is what I found, over to one side of the path was this building.

Now, I'm not a railway spotter or anything, but I think that this must have been an engine repair shed from the days when the railway was much bigger and important. Down the middle of the building is a long pit where I suppose workmen used to be able to get underneath the engines. It is very dilapidated, but completely open. There are no fences to keep the unwary or witless out of the place or out of danger. When you look inside the place, the pit is full of drink bottles and other worrying things.

I walked on a bit and found the remains of the old station house. The curious thing here is that this building looks Ok from the other side. You see it from the train when you pass this place. So they have kept the far side of the building in some sort of repair, but left the roof off this side. It just isn't going to last, is it.

Anyway, we turned round at that point and made our way back out of this old, industrial archaeology site. (I wish it was.) I really don't like it when I find places where our heritage is being allowed to crumble. Anyway, one last picture, so you know that I am still taking bad photographs despite my evening class. Here we are, back on the original pathway, looking up the lane called Little Dinting. Back up this lane puts you back on Dinting Road. Today, though, we carried on along the path to Glossop. Nothing eventful happened and about a hour later we were home. Tired but full of a sense of having had a bit of an adventure, my doggy pal and me.

See you soon.

Wednesday Evening at 9 o'clock.

I just don't know what the problem is. After all, I'm no longer working. I do nothing much all day. I get up at 6 am and watch TV programmes that I've recorded during the week for about two hours beforee breakfast. I go out for a walk with Jasper every morning, for about an hour and a half, then have lunch and afterwards, fall asleep in my chair. Then when I come to switching on the computer I haven't got the energy, or the interest, to write in my blog. I find my eyes drooping. What is happening to me. Is it old age, dementia or just laziness. When I was working I did a full days work and then still had time to write something in the blog.

If you don't read Daniele's blog, then you ought to do. There is a link in the margin, but if you cannot see it here is another http://danerard.canalblog.com . The only problem with Daniele's blog is that she will insist on writing a lot of it in French. I know the secret you know. I understand that the French really speak English all the time when they think we aren't watching, then start talking in this strange language when they think we are. Anyway, I often struggle with Daniele's cinema and art reviews, after all, it's one thing to speak six or seven words of French and another thing entirely to read it properly. I wonder if the local Adult Education Centre do Advanced Conversation. I bet they don't.

Anyway, back to the point. Without doubt, my favourite bit of Daniele's Blog is her little visits to some of the streets of Paris, and she has started to write them in English. I love reading about all the different places and Daniele sprinkles them with little photographs. Excellent stuff. My favourite just recently was this little bit, "A courtisan of the 19th century, famous and rich. She left this square and had a bigger place built on the Champs Elysees when it became fashionable, under Napoleon the Third.. Now her last home is the Virgin Megastore..." I shall not tell you where to look, go and find it for yourself. It just tickles me that this famous courtesan, (now what would we call her today??) building herself a posh place on the Champs Elysees, and what has become of it.

I think Daniele is a little wicked, because when she sees a locked gate into a yard, she tries the latch and when it is open she goes in to have a look. So she visits some stunning squares and yards and the buildings that are tucked away from view. If it was me I'd walk past, bemoaning the fact that the door was locked and unwilling to try it. I think that may just be a fundamental difference between me and Daniele, or is it between the Brits and the French. I know that I would assume that somewhere was private, while others assume that a place is public unless it is locked.

There haven't been many photos of late because since my fall in February and my second operation on my knee I have been restricting my walks with Jasper. I tend to do the same walks again and again and there is little change at the moment to photograph. There are still very few flowers growing and the trees are still only in the early stages of budding. It has been a hard winter. Still, we've had some nice days of late. Anyway, on the walk from Padfield to Hadfield there is a small, new wood by the side of the road. It has been grown quite deliberately and it is rather nice. It is fenced in, but the other day I noticed that while the gate is bolted, it is not locked. One of these days I shall take my courage in both hands and go into this little wood. Soon.

For now, here is a small picture of an open area that runs alongside Dinting Road. It is unfenced and open and I think that someone has suggested that it become a village green. This is despite the fact that the nearest village is Dinting and that is down on the main road. I always think of village greens as compact, maybe with a duck pond. Not this...........

You can see what I mean, can't you. It's more like a bit of grass surrounded by the industrial zone. I mean it's not like it was the middle of Manchester. we've got plenty of grass around. Yesterday I walked all the way from Glossop back to Hadfield without walking on the main road for more than 5 yards. But still, a bit more public access green land won't go amiss.

See you all again, quite soon, if we're spared. Night, night.

Musings on a Wednesday Morning

It isn't laziness I can assure you, though I don't appear to be doing very much at the moment. A combination of things have quite overcome me at the moment, and I wish that I could see my way out of them. Oh, nothing very bothersome, nothing nasty, just minor irritants to be honest.

Pat's Sister had a hip replacement about a week and a day ago. It's the nature of the thing that she had the job done in one of these new NHS facilities that seem to pop up now and again, small, ultra-modern and usually run by Canadian, Australian or American Health Companies. They look like private hospitals but are actually part of the NHS and you don't have to pay to use them. But what is wrong with us doing it for ourselves and under the NHS. What is it with our government in recent years, it seems that the attitude these days is that if it's British then it's not to be trusted, but if it's an American idea then it is the best thing since sliced bread. I realise from watching the news over recent months that our American cousins are not enamoured of our NHS system. I think it's regarded as Socialist or even Communist, but I think I'd rather be middle class and poorly in Britain than America. I always get the impression that going into hospital in America requires an explosively large amount of money. Yes, I realise that they have Insurance to pay for medical treatment, but my experience of Medical Insurance came when I applied to BUPA for Health Insurance a few years ago and they finally said that they would be prepared to accept me as a customer as long as I agreed to pay them a vast amount of money every month and I agreed that the only part of my body they would treat would be my left big toe. That's an exaggeration of course, but not a huge exagerration. Sorry, rant over!

No it's not. the other thing that I find fascinating is that these super clinics get set up in leafy Cheshire. I know of two of these places and they both serve Cheshire. Why don't they build one in Gorton, or Ancoats or some other less well off part of Manchester. Cheshire! To them that have shall more be given! I've always thought that they should relocate Cheshire somewhere south of Surrey.

So anyway. All of that has absolutely nothing to do with my lack of blogging. Being on my own in the house with Jasper the manic spaniel has not prevented me from blogging or anything else. Not that I've done anything else. When Pat went away I said that I'd clean the house while she was away. So far I've cleaned nothing at all and it's Wednesday morning. She'll be back home on friday. Added to that, barbara is coming round to visit this afternoon and the house looks like it's been hit by a dust bomb. I must go for my constitutional with Jasper, then get a bit of cleaning done. At least the lounge and the kitchen, or I will be in deep doodoo.

In the last three weeks the computer has died on me twice. About three weeks ago everything started to go wrong. Programs would not load and then it simply refused to start up at all. I decided that it was me loading a piece of wonky software and it was my own fault. So I rebuilt the computer from scratch, software rebuild, nothing at all to do with screwdrivers etc. Then about ten days ago it did the same again, so I've had to rebuild it all from scratch again. This takes time because every piece of software has got to be reinstalled. This time I've taken more time over it, put each piece of software on one at a time, rebooted the computer every time and then done a system backup to make sure. So far, so good, but it all takes a lot of time.

But you don't expect this from a brand new computer do you, well a four month old computer anyway. It was my retirement treat to me from me and I spent too much money on it. Now I'm beginning to wonder how big a mistake it was. And no, Daniele, I have not treated myself to several new computers recently, just this one, and the last new computer I bought was eight years ago. That is a very old computer.

But I shall get to the bottom of this, even if I have to ring up Hewlett Packard in the USA and moan at them. I wonder if they sell Health Insurance as well?

The Preston Wigmaker

Today's post nearly didn't happen. You would think, wouldn't you, that a new computer would be reliable for a good while. I got my new PC just before Christmas and, on the whole, I've been happy with it. However, over the last couple of weeks, strange things have been happening with it. I found that I couldn't load programs that I had been able to use before and one new program kept crashing. I would have thought it was a virus, but I run Norton 360 and I've never had a problem with it in the past. The obvious thing to blame was the new program, the one that kept crashing, so i tried to remove it using System Restore, and it failed. It claimed to have moved the computer back by 10 days, but all the software was still the way it had been that morning. So I bit the bullet and this morning I wiped the Hard Disc and reinstalled Windows. At the moment the only thing running is Office, but Pat neded to do something that only needed Word and the Printer, so I picked up the laptop that is Pat's and here I am.

The day after my walk in Manor Park that is described below, we set off for a weekend at Willersley Castle near Cromford in Derbyshire. Here is the view out of our bedroom window on Saturday Morning.

It wasn't the best weather in the world that weekend, but I still wouldn't mind waking up to that view every day. I won't bother describing our weekend much for we went for a Parish weekend with people from our Church. Had a really good time, listened to some interesting talks, ate some very good food and had a good, quiet and interesting time.

The point of the blog, though, is not to talk about our weekend, but about Cromford Mill. The mill is about a half mile from the Castle and I think it is really special. Here is a picture:

 

So why would I think that this scruffy little pile of bricks is in any way important. Well, in 1732 in Preston, Lancashire, a young man was born who, to my mind, was going to change the world. He is no hero of mine, I actually think he was an unprincipled rogue, but at least he was no Adolf Hitler, just a rogue. His name was Richard Arkwright and he grew up to be a wig maker. I always thought that being a wig maker was an odd sort of occupation to be a world changer. But around about 1765 Richard Arkwright invented an ingenious Cotton Spinning Engine called "The Water Frame". Up until that point all the machines that had been invented to speed up the process of making cloth had been operated by human power or animal power. Machines like the Spinning Jenny were small enough to be used in the home. The water Frame was not. It was a big machine and it needed an external power supply, running water (hence its name). So it made more economic sense to have a lot of them, all together in one place, and use one water source to power them all. So Arkwright borrowed money and set up the very first "manufactory" in the history of the world.

 

This is him, Richard Arkwright, the Preston Wigmaker who changed the world. The reason that I don't particularly like him is not because he became rich and famous, good luck to him. Not because he built his mill at Cromford in Derbyshire, that he became Lord Lieutenant of Derbyshire (I think) or that he built, and lived in Willersley Castle. But I rather think that his Waterframe was actually built by someone else, a man called Lewis Paul, whose name does not feature in the History books at all. So it goes, I suppose.

I have one other gripe really, and this is not about Arkwright. The mill he built at Cromford is in a pretty dire state. It just strikes me that in this country we want to preserve our heritage, but we are quite selective about the heritage we want to preserve. Go to Styal Mill and it is well preserved and draws in crowds like nobody's business in summer. It's a pretty mill you see, and Cromford is not.

And that is just about that, for this evening. Jasper, by the way, spent his weekend in a doggy hotel in Denton, Manchester. Poor dear, he was loved to bits. Jasper's fan club extends to Denton as well. See you soon!

Da spring is sprung

Okay then, here we go again, I hope. This post harks back to the 11th February, a Thursday. I remember it well. That night I knew that we were holding a PCC Meeting at Church and, for my sins, I'm Secretary of the PCC as well as the other things that I do. So I really fancied a walk. I knew that the PCC Meeting would be a long one and I also knew that it was going to be cold. Our Church is about 800 years old and it gets cold on a cold winter's night. So the thought of a walk was great. However, I was still suffering with the twisted knee and twisted ankle that I had done the other week.

Then there was my doggie, Jasper. I mean, look at this little face, how can you say "NO" to a walk with him.

By the way, this picture arises from the teacher at my Evening School class in Digital Imaging suggesting that I get in closer to my subject. I think this is a lovely picture of a very wayward dog, but then I'm biased.

So, anyway,  I needed a fairly short walk, and a fairly level walk. It was my lovely wife who suggested Manor Park. That was a good idea. Manor Park is in our local town, Glossop, a couple of miles away from where I live. Actually, it's not in Glossop, but rather in Old Glossop which is just outside the modern town of Glossop itself.  I'm not going to pretend to know the history of the park really well, because I don't. However,  up until the early part of the 20th Century the park that now is formed a part of the manorial holdings of the Howard Family, who are the Dukes of Norfolk. The Norfolk family are the ones who feature throughout British History as one of the central families. To this day the Duke of Norfolk is the Hereditary Lord Marshall of England. I think that means that he organises state events like Royal Weddings, Funerals and such, but anyway that is getting away from the story.

In the early part of the 20th Century the, then, Duke must have given up on Glossop and left. I must look it up in a local history book. However, in leaving, he gave away parts of his estate to the people of Glossop, and part of his gardens became Manor Park. Interestingly, (well it's interesting to me, you can still see bits of stonework, arches and lintels and that sort of thing in the garden walls of quite ordinary houses.) There is no Manor House, though, or at least none that I can see, and I have no idea what happened to it. Maybe what happened to the House is why he left. Or maybe he just gave up on killing grouse.

So Jasper and I were dropped off near the entrance to the park and enjoyed a very pleasant hour wandering about among the frozen puddles and frozen plant beds. But it was a lovely day, the sun was shining, there was no wind, it was very pleasant indeed. And here is the first herald of Spring that I have seen in Glossopdale. We were just walking up a path almost smothered in bushes when there, almost at my feet, we saw some snowdrops.

 

I don't doubt that this is nothing special to anybody else who reads this, you've probably had snowdrops out since December and are now into the full bloom of roses, but we are quite high up here in Glossopdale and we often realise that our plants and flowers are weeks behind other places. This was a real fillip to me. makes me think that Spring is really only a little way away. Despite the fact that it snowed quite heavily the day before yesterday, it didn't stick.

We wandered on, don't worry, Jasper avoided trampling the snowdrops into the ground by dint of the fact that I kept him on a short lead until we got away from them. He was very much more interested in the ducks and geese that were having fun on the duck pond. Here is one who kept on having great fun splashing water all over every other duck.

Jasper wanted to chase, Oh how he wanted to chase, but I am a right meanie.

Then we walked up the back of the park. The ground rises quite steeply at the back of the park, and I got a picture of a rather grand set of steps that come from nowhere and go nowhere either, but clearly, once upon a time things were different.

Then we walked home. Looking back on it, though, it was a lovely walk that we both enjoyed. Jasper and I have long conversations on these walks of ours. I must admit that they do tend to be rather one sided and I think this may be the reason why I am shunned by all the right thinking people of Glossopdale, but who cares. I am fed up of winter. I've had winter up to the back teeth and now I want Spring and the promise of better days to come.

We have booked our holiday, we are off to Ireland in June. Life is good, I hope.

By the way, I must just add my thanks to Ann for the lovely comment that you left. It is really nice to know that anyone but me reads this. Not that it really matters as I write this for the fun of it, not because of who may, but probably won't, read it. My knee is feeling better and better every day following last week's surgery. I have a follow up appointment to remove the stitches or whatever, next week, then I can get back to the regimen of walking. Just in time for spring.

Mea Culpa

Don't really know what the title of this post means, to be honest, but if it means "Sorry" then it will do. It is now some two weeks since I last posted to the blog, and I really don't want to get any more out of touch with it than I am. In that last couple of weeks I've done a few things that I want to write about, just not tonight.

I managed a couple of good walks with Jasper that I want to mention, and I got some nice photographs at the time as well. I discovered the helpful soothing effects of Ibuprofen on a twisted ankle. Pat and I went on a weekend away in Cromford, further down in the county of Derbyshire, and I spent a couple of days in Hospital having minor surgery on my knee. It may have been mionor but it hurt quite badly at first. Also, as my friend puts it, being a fairly substantial sort of bloke, they bung more anaesthetic in me than they do in skinny people. That has left me feeling rather listless and lazy for a few days, but hopefully I am starting to come out of it a bit now.

So, hopefully, I will be back with a vengeance in the next few days. Unfortunately, my laissez faire attitude has not just extended to the blog, but to just about everything else in recent days, so I need to do some other jobs as well, and just at the time when the new computer has decided to have a hissy fit. Something has gone wrong in the Registry and all sorts of odd and weird things have started to happen. This may be the herald of a rebuild, which will be long and painful, but which will work.

At least a rebuild will not destroy all my data, fiungers crossed.

Normal Service will be resumed as soon as possible.

Sunday Evening

I'll be honest, I don't really feel like writing much today, but it's been a couple of days and I mustn't let things slip again. It's rather murky tonight, a bit damp but not raining at least. I felt really sorry for the eastern coastal states of America yesterday. The news had pictures of the snow in DC. Now, I don't know anyone in Washington, but at the end of the news piece they showed a graphic of the weather covering everything from Washington upwards. I have a friend from College days who works at the University of New Hampshire and lives in, I guess, a small town called Lee. I feel a bit worried for him and his wife. Still, I think that they have a nice house so I'm sure they will be OK. I must remember to email him tomorrow.

Borrrrrrrrrrrris' book, "Lutte Majeur" turned up in the post yesterday afternoon. I haven't "read" it yet, but I looked through it and I have to say that I am very impressed by the drawing skills. I can't comment on the storyline as it's all in French, but then I only ever bought it for Borrrris' drawings. I will comment more on this book in a day or three. However, one very interesting point, for me at least, was the provenance of the book. I originally tried to buy it from Amazon.co.uk but, while admitting that the book existed, they said that they did not know when, if ever, it would be available in England. So I had to buy it from Amazon.fr the French site. I had to pay French prices which Danielle tells me are higher than English prices, and I believe her. However, isn't it interesting that when it arrived on saturday it came from the Amazon Warehouse in Milton Keynes in Buckinghamshire, in an Amazon.co.uk cardboard book cover, delivered by the Royal mail. That book has never been to France but they had the nerve to charge French prices for it. I have a good mind to send them an email of complaint.

Huff!

My knee and ankle meant that today's walk with Jasper was quite short, over a familiar route, and the weather was not very good for photography, so no picture today.

I feel the need to go into Manchester soon. Knee and ankle willing. I love looking at the pictures Danielle takes on the streets of Paris, and I feel the need to go looking for something similar in Manchester.

I'll keep you informed. A tout a l'heure!