Writing Room with a new view

Was it all a dream? I think it could have been because we have only been home for one month but it feels like forever; this is such a good feeling. I am in my newly established writing room which was the former nursery for both Dirtbag and Mini-Me. The purple blooming buddleia is blowing in the evening breeze over our garden path and attracting a few butterflies. Our terraced row of three is collectively named Holly View but I cannot see any from here. My second-hand antique oak writing desk is an old friend I have yet to spend more time with but it was love at first sight, for me anyway. Behind me, above an old battered bookcase is the stained glass window which ignites when the sun catches it and makes me feel like I am the queen of my castle. Ascending into our loft bedroom I look out of the Velux every night at the changing skies with its clouds and vivid colours scudding by, seeing the real castle on the hill of my horizon.

We are swiftly gathering pieces of furniture and putting up some desert pictures and photos to remind us of our dream-like adventures. In the country kitchen, we have reinstated the disco ball above the table as we all know that the best parties end up in there. Let's get planning a house warming party soon because it's really chilly, especially up at the cricket club.
Talking of parties, we recently attended a Bond themed one in sunny Sunderland which was lovely. It was also a mini Dukhan reunion with some desert found friends and bridged the gap between continents which reminded me that it wasn't all just a wonderful dream.

The funniest thing I have heard so far this summer comes from the mouth of Mini-Me:
'Mum, please can you wash my jockstrap?'

My pink Swatch watch strap suddenly snapped but I don't need to worry about time as the church bells automatically chime every quarter, half past and on the hour. It's such a lovely sound to my ears and carries across the fields as I'm walking with swallows swooping and gliding. It encourages me in my uphill speed walk to the Sunday service, waving and saying 'Hi' to the other villagers passing by. I am trying to readjust to having four seasons in every day again but delighted to have seen three rainbows already to brighten my northern skies.

The cup of redbush tea was made and I was settling down for the evening when a spontaneous Dirtbag declared she was off into the woods to try and capture the stunning sunset with her camera. I went along just in case a big bad wolf decided to jump out from behind a tree and startle her. We were running down the road just as the 9.36 pm trains were arriving at their respective platforms.
'Hurry up or we're going to miss it!' she shouts at me, half a mile ahead of course. Brilliant! I have not seen her this animated for weeks now. To anyone else hearing her they would have assumed we were going for one of the trains. Where would we be going at this time of night, though? For a pint or two of pale ale in the Head of Steam at Huddersfield station or a couple of Mojitos in a trendy bar in Sheffield? Maybe in a few years time.
So we continue running down the hill, over the bridge, along the bumpy track, through the kissing gate, and into the field.
'We've missed it. It's your fault for being so slow,' she says matter of factly but still takes some good photos anyway.

My rooibos was just the right temperature to comfort me when we returned.

Ringing the bluebells

Underneath the Stars Festival was fabulous and all I could ever have dreamed of, especially being practically on my doorstep. My friend and I had such a special day together and the weather was delightful. We went into a mobile planetarium, browsed and shopped at the various stalls there, ate our picnic, had some Yummy Yorkshire ice cream and of course listened to some fantastic live folk music. Kate Rusby and her band were so brilliant, I was completely spellbound by their performance for an hour on the Planets Stage in the big blue tent. Trying to reclaim a little of the Arab within I asked the lovely henna artist if she could paint a bracelet of stars on my right wrist, which of course she did, for a fiver.

After much deliberation, I have decided not to create a brand new blog but just change the name of this one. Hope you like it and if you have some spare time please continue to read me and share in my local adventures.

With Love xx

Reading: All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr
Listening to: The Folk Show with Mark Radcliffe on BBC Radio 2,
Wednesday nights 7-8 pm
Singing: Green Fields and Ghost by Kate Rusby
Walking and cycling here, there and everywhere despite the hayfever attacks
Watched: Spy (2015), Zoolander 2 on the plane home laughing my head off and The BFG at the local Odeon Cinema, both released this year.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RrJZJtY6u7o