Slow and steady

Moving slowly through the UK countryside



A response to this photo challenge

I enjoyed this photo challenge.  OK, so one of them isn’t a light, but its shape makes it look as though it ought to be. Doesn’t that make a lovely lampshade? I like the mysterious atmosphere of the blue Christmas lights.

The last two pictures have nothing to do with light sources, they’re just ones I wanted to share.

Japanese Maple leaves

Japanese Maple leaves


Clematis seed head – that reminded me of a spider

And finally, today I reached 50,000 words written in November for NaNoWriMo – tada!



I haven’t written a novel though, as I really had no ideas for characters or plot, so I ‘rebelled’ and just wrote whatever was in my head. It was surprisingly easy (and satisfying) to write that much rubbish – but I certainly won’t be publishing any of it. 🙂 Maybe next year…



Sound advice on blogging

Lots of very sane thoughts about blogging over here on The Jittery Goat blog.
Normally I’d just add my comments in the comment section of someone else’s blog, but as he suggested putting comments on one’s own blog and making a link…  Here I go.  🙂

I don’t feel too bad about it, as I’m one of the regular readers that reads most of his articles, as I get them sent to my email inbox.  Well, OK, I admit that I don’t tend to read the ones about American sport, as I don’t even follow much UK sport, but I do really enjoy the stories.


Memories – a ten-minute writing challenge

A response to The Weekly Writing Challenge This looked as though it might be fun to try. It was interesting what was thrown up by just ten minutes of writing – my pedantry goes back a long way – I was a bit of a brat. 🙂

My earliest memories

My earliest memories are pretty hazy. I’m not so sure whether I really remember them, or whether they are memories of memories – redredged up from having to write ‘my earliest memories’ when I was at school, mixed with tales told by my mum.

Nevertheless. I don’t remember anything before primary school, but I do have a few memories that go back to my first classroom. My first teacher was Miss Bates (though I also remember Miss Bearpark – was that really her name?) in the same high-windowed Victorian school-room. Not that I was a Victorian, you understand. But the room was the original school. The assembly hall for my daughters’ primary school was a room almost identical, probably built from the same plans – and still in use about a hundred years after it was built. But I digress.

The windows were above eye-level for small children, probably to avoid the Victorian children getting distracted by the excitements of the big outdoors. I seem to remember them being pointed at the top, like church windows, but that may be invention. The room was heated by a big boiler, with a wire fireguard round it, that we used to poke our gloves into, when they got wet on snowy days.

I remember the smell of poster paints – though I don’t actually remember doing any painting, but I’m sure we did. I can’t recall any actual work – or play for that matter – that we did in that reception class. The only clear memory I have of that room is with Miss Bearpark, who I think was the next teacher – that would be class 5A, I think. Reception was Class 6. I seem to remember her teaching us ‘Home, home on the range, where the deer and the antelope roam…’ – but maybe that wasn’t her, and I’ve just conflated deer and bears (in her name)…

She was writing a poem on the board – perhaps it was the lyrics of Home on the Range. And I have a clear memory of putting my hand up to tell her that she’d forgotten to put a comma at the end of one of the lines. A little pedant already, at age 5 or 6. And I was probably wrong, too, as poetry and songs don’t always have commas at the end of each line.

Another similar memory was a bit later on, when I was a Brownie. We were going for a nature walk – a nice convenient way of using up meeting time I imagine now, having seen things from the adult perspective more recently. One of the adults told us that a plant was Red Dead-nettle, and I corrected them and said it was Ground-Ivy.

That time I was right though – and I did end up going on to study Botany at university, so maybe I can be excused that one. I did know that maybe I should have kept quiet though, as it is one of my sharpest childhood memories, and it still makes me feel a bit uneasy.