The Exeter to Topsham canal path

Today we went for a walk along the historic Exeter to Topsham canal.

Way back when they had tall masted sailing ships and the woollen industry was the backbone of the West Country economy, Topsham, further down the Exe estuary, was the deep water port for Exeter. But slowly, slowly the upper reaches of the river, between the port and the city, silted over and became too shallow to allow the cargo to move through.

As a result they hit upon the brilliant idea of building their own canal. 'Big deal!' I hear you say, but, bear with me, this was back in 1500's. It first opened for shipping in 1566. Can you imagine what an effort of human sweat and tears and blood must have gone into building it? Can you picture the gangs of men, many of them no doubt Irish navvies, my countrymen, with picks and spades labouring in the sandy, red soil with teams of oxen and mules carrying away the earth that they had dug up? I wonder which songs they sang as they worked. I'll bet in winter it was too cold and miserable to do anything other than knuckle down and wish the job done.

We started off at the Exeter quay, and followed the signs for the canal basin. It was a glorious morning with a huge blue sky and loads of sunshine.

We saw lots of swans. These chaps were breakfasting on some scraps that another walker had brought along for them.

I don't know whether you've noticed or not, but there's a beer can floating just beside the bird on the left. I didn't notice it until I down-loaded the photo to my computer. Isn't it depressing how people throw their rubbish around?

And, at the risk of going into full rant, look what I saw floating by the bank ten paces further down river:

Someone's discarded Christmas tree!

How can they possibly have thought that it was ok to just chuck that into the River Exe?

Anyway, we carried on, and took the path along the canal.

We walked on to the double lock...

... where we stopped for coffee and bacon sandwiches at one of the loveliest pubs in Devon, the aptly named Double Locks Pub. Inside was warm and cosy with open fires burning in the grates, and riverside views that made me think of Ratty's riverbank home in AA Milne's Toad of Toad Hall. The coffees were fabulous, and the bacon sandwiches were delicious. There's a deck outside, where some braver souls were enjoying the weak rays of the winter sun. On a balmy summer day this place must really rock for a lazy Sunday lunch by the water.

We carried on downriver to the Exminster Marshes, before turning back. My husband had a work commitment that we had to get back for.

We decided to return via the flood plain of the River Exe. It wasn't flooded, and Maxi had great fun racing around and playing with the other dogs.

And we had some lovely views of Exeter Cathedral in the distance. Looks very regal, doesn't it?

By now the rain was catching up with us, and before very much longer it overtook us. When we finally arrived back at our car we were all a bit tired, slightly soggy and moderately muddy. We were pleased that we'd been able to make the most of the lovely, bright morning. After all that's what its' been all about recently: making the best of the breaks between the showers, and not minding too much when the clouds open.

If you fancy exploring the Exeter canal basin you can download a map showing the walking path here:

 Exeter Ship Canal Walks leaflet [805kb] 

Have a great weekend!

Bonny x

Knitting a snood ...

We're enjoying country walks in between the showers. Today was pretty good. We managed two long hikes with only one change of clothes. For England, in February 2014, that's not a bad innings!

Anyway I've been wanting to make something that would be a bit more spring-like, but with the weather having been so spectacularly uncooperative I've not managed to stray very far away from warm and woolly. I like to think that the colour I've chosen is a little bit spring-like. I mean at least it's a pastel colour, which is supposed to be on-trend for spring, right?

Here's the wool I chose:

It's by quince&co, who say on the label that it's '100% American Wool'. I really must say that it's been a total delight to work with. It doesn't split easily, and the colour is just the business. Perfect for what I had in mind. It's called 'Bird's Egg' and the colour code is 106. I bought mine from the lovely Loop shop in Islington. They do a really good mail order service if you can't visit them in person. In any event you can find them here: Loop Knitting Shop

Talking of which, this is what I set out to create:

What do you think?

I'm really enjoying the warm, snugly simplicity of it!

You can wear it as a long single loop, which looks very laid back and casual. Or if you're facing a blistering northerly wind, you can double it up for extra warmth. Either way I think it's a great look.

If you'd like to make one it's easy-peasy. Here's what you need, and here's how to do it:

Materials

2 skeins/ 340 yards or 310 metres of Aran/ 10 ply wool
1 pair of American size 11 circular  needles (metric size 8 mm/ imperial size 0) with a cord of approximately 80 cm/ 31 inches between the two needles

Method 

Cast on 195 stitches and mark the end of the row with a piece of wool in a contrasting colour so that you know where each row ends. (This should produce a snood that measures about 48 inches/ 122 cm around, depending upon the tension of your work.)

1st row: *knit 3, bring the wool to the front of the needle as though you were about to do a purl stitch and slip a stitch, return yarn to other side*. Repeat from * to * across the row, end with knit 3.
2nd row: knit 1, *bring wool to the front as though you were about to do a purl stitch and slip a stitch, bring wool to other side and knit 3*. Repeat from * to * across the row until the final stitch. End with a slip 1, knit 1.

Repeat these two rows until your work measures whatever width you would like it to measure. I made mine 9 inches/ 23 cm wide, which is a good width for the doubling-up look as it doesn't become too bulky around the neck.

Cast off, weave in your ends and admire your snood.


Enjoy!

Bonny x

Hound Tor, Dartmoor, and a slow-cooker dinner

Yesterday we went to Hound Tor, which was as spectacular as it always is. Somehow, now that we have a hound of our own, it seemed apt.

I love the wildness of Dartmoor. There's something primitive, something truly primordial about it. And Hound Tor is one of the best bits. It's a wild, unforgiving place, where nature concedes nothing. They say that it inspired Arthur Conan Doyle to write the Hound of the Baskervilles.

We strolled along the avenue that runs between the massive granite walls of the Tor.

Then we climbed the shoulder of the hill on which the Tor stands to admire the bleak landscape all around. 

Over the other side there is a little path that leads down through the bracken to a forgotten village, where no one has lived for over half a millennium. It's an eerie place comprising several houses and barns. No one knows exactly what happened, and why the people who once lived there left. One theory is that it was abandoned in about 1350 as a result of the infamous Black Death. Whatever the way of it, the site must have been a desolate, inhospitable place to have called home. Even on a warm sunny day, it feels sort of chilly there.

It's a tricky place to photograph and I only had a little point-and-shoot camera with me, which wasn't up to the job so I'll have to remember to do it justice next time.

After all that walking it was lovely to open the front door and immediately smell our dinner bubbling away in the slow-cooker. 

I'm a really big fan of my slow cooker. It's not an expensive, flashy model, but it's great for those days when we're out and I need to conjure up some food almost as soon as we get back home.

Here's my very simple recipe for: 

Sausage stew

12 good pork sausages

200 g/ 7 ounces of bacon lardons

400 ml/ 2 cups of good vegetable stock

2 medium onions - sliced

6 medium potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced

sage

Method

1. Fry the sausages so that they have an attractive colour, but don't cook them right through.

2. Remove sausages from the frying pan and place in the bottom of the slow cooker pot.

3. Finely chop the onion and garlic and fry in the same saucepan as the sausages. When done, tip over the sausages in the pot, and add some chopped sage or a good shake of dry sage if you haven't got any of the fresh stuff to hand.

4. Fry the bacon lardons in the saucepan and sprinkle evenly over the sausage and onion mix in the pot.

5. Peel the potatoes, and finely chop. Then layer over the sausage mixture in the pot.

6. Pour 400 ml of hot, seasoned vegetable stock evenly over the potatoes. 

7. Place the lid on the pot and leave to cook for three and a half to four hours on the high setting.

Simple, hearty food! I served it up with some mushrooms fried in butter with spring onions and garlic, washed down with a nice glass of Rioja.

This recipe will feed 3 to 4 people, depending on the size of the servings: will you be wanting three sausages or four sausages per person? You can do the maths!

Anyway, tuck in and enjoy,

Bonny x

Devon: the quiet after the storm ...

We've come to our place in Devon for Emi's half term holidays, and yesterday was truly glorious - the quiet after the storm.

Our roof safely sheltered by the hill behind

I'm counting our blessings that we've still got a roof over our heads. Our house was cleverly built a long time ago on the shoulder of a hill, so that it is protected by the contours of the surrounding land from the worst of the weather. This sometimes results in the smoke being blown back down the chimney on those odd days when the wind comes over the hill, but mostly it's a very comfortable arrangement.

We did lots of dog-walking yesterday to make the most of the weather. And I've got to say that this is the best dog-walking county in England. People down here love their dogs. Maxi comes everywhere with us, and nobody minds. He joined us for a family dinner in our lovely, local pub on Saturday night. It was brilliant.

Our valley

What a difference a day makes: today we are back to rain, rain and more rain. My heart really goes out to all those poor folks whose houses are under water at the moment. It must be the very worst sort of invasion: smelly, cold grey water.

Today: back to the rain!

We've suffered the loss of four beautiful old trees in the storms. This one below was a fairly young ornamental cherry. I'm guessing that we'll have to fell it as it won't be stable after suffering this split.

And this splendid old beech tree came out by the roots. 

I'm kind of surprised that its root system didn't go wider and deeper. They seem very shallow and superficial for what was once a very tall, majestic tree, whose branches cast a huge shadow in the summer time.

Just look at how it's been split open by the storm. It's almost as though the wind, in its fury, tore the tree in half: an eloquent testimony to the violence of the weather.

Anyway, today I think we'll just hunker down and enjoy the warmth indoors as the wind whistles down the valley, and the rain batters the windowpanes.

Stay warm and safe wherever you are,

Bonny x

Saint Valentine's Day ...

Happy Saint Valentine's Day!

My Mum used to tell me when I was a child that St. Valentine's was the day on which the little song birds in our garden chose their partners. We always had a bird-table, and we always took good care to leave them well-provided for in cold weather. As a result, we had hundreds of feathered friends: robins, blue tits, chaffinches, great tits, wagtails, black birds. You name them, and they'd be there in our garden. We'd watch them carefully through the window, and sure enough there were usually signs of nest-building not long after the magic day. And then, before very much longer, we'd spot a noisy brood of swallow chicks in the garage, and my father would start to get bent of shape about all the bird poo that was landing on his car.

When I was grown-up and single I used to enjoy the Valentine's Day suspense: would anyone think to send me roses? And it always felt like a not insignificant personal triumph when they did!

My husband is a lovely, eccentric man who comes from Barcelona. In his neck of the woods they don't do the whole hearts and flowers thing for the Feast of Saint Valentine.  February, 14th is just another day over there. Instead, they celebrate their amor on the Feast of Saint George, who is also their patron saint in Cataluña. And, what with rescuing damsels from fire-breathing dragons and

everything, maybe old Saint Geordie is a better, more swashbuckling patron saint for lovers anyway.

On his feast day (23rd April) it is traditional for a Catalan lover to bestow a single rose and a book on the object of his affections.

How lovely is that?

Giving someone the present of a book that they will enjoy is surely one of the most intimate gifts that any lover can give. It takes a real understanding of what makes the other person tick to choose correctly.

When someone gives me a book I'm always intrigued by the reverse psychology of why they've chosen that particular one for me. What does it say about how they view me? Eek! Maybe better not go there, on second thoughts... .

If you were to give your other half a book this Saint Valentine's Day, which one would you give?

The 'Don'ts for Wives' handbook from 1913 would probably not be a great choice for the chaps - unless they had their sights set on sleeping in the guest bedroom for the foreseeable future. CJ, one of my cousins, gave me this copy after I got married. I think she was being ironic.

Or how about this lovely book? R.D. Blackmore's 'Lorna Doone' 1913 Dulverton edition, beautifully bound with engraved end boards and coloured illustrations.

 'Lorna Doone' is such a classic, and I love, love, love  my copy. I bought it in a place called the Bookbarn, down in Somerset. They say that it's the the largest second hand book shop in the country, and I believe them. I've spent days of my life in there browsing happily. Anyway this dedication appears on the first page of my copy:

I think it's just grand how Misses Grimwood and Burgess were busy with the Brighton and Hove Rifle Club way back in the autumn of 1913. Good for them! But I also wonder what happened to them in the following years. Did they get involved in the war effort? Did they lose sweethearts/ husbands/ fathers/ sons on the front? Did they have any not insignificant personal triumphs on 14th February, 1914?

 Anyway, whatever you're doing, have a good one!

Bonny x