Grrrrr!

It’s frrrrrustrrrrrating. In the extrrrrreme.

One life skill I’ve never mastered is rrrrrolling my rrrrrs. Years of Frrrrrench lessons got me nowhere. Now I’m learning Italian and my ability to perform the alveolar trrrrrill seems more lacking than ever.

I’ve been rrrrresearching this (that means I googled it). And my rrrrresearch tells me there’s no earthly rrrrreason why I shouldn’t be able to do it. It’s just a matter of strrrrrengthening the apprrrrroprrrrriate muscles in my tongue. Hmm…

So I’m after advice. However ludicrrrrrous. Just how does one rrrrroll ones rrrrrrrrrrrs???

When It Matters

Sometimes, it’s not until you’re told that you can’t have something….or can’t do something…that you realise just how desperately you want to have or do the thing in question.

It’s happened twice in my life - that I’ve been told, ‘No…you can’t do that’. And I’ve suddenly found that this thing is achingly important to me and I can’t countenance carrying on for the rest of my life without it.

The first time it happened, I went after what I wanted regardless, and it has turned out to be one of the greatest sources of comfort and joy in my life.

So now, as I find myself in that situation for a second time, experience tells me that I’m right to pursue the thing for which my heart hankers, the thing which - until a few days ago - was only at the periphery of my awareness, yet which has suddenly become so urgently important to me. Experience tells me that, if I go after this, it too will turn out to be an immense source of reward and satisfaction for me.

So if, when you’re told you can’t do what you want, the bottom unexpectedly drops out of your world……go after it with every ounce of your being. Because this one matters. It matters a lot.

Almost Bluebells

It's not every day you get chased by an extremely aggressive swan.  Not every day you have the pleasure of going for a walk with a dog suffering a phantom pregnancy.  So, one way and another, today was pretty memorable.

We’d planned a bluebell walk. It’s that time of year. But of course everything’s late this year - including the bluebells. They were almost out; just the faintest haze of blue on the woodland floor. By next week…

We walked all the same. Along the canal. With the dog who thinks she's pregnant. That's where we met the angry swan, protecting its nesting mate. It chased us for a good ten minutes before we finally escaped.  Then we swapped scared for soppy as we came upon brood after brood of tiny ducklings. And tramped through fields littered with new lambs.

The air, in places, was heavy with the scent of wild garlic. There was a riot of blossom and flowers: forget-me-nots, grape hyacinths, viola cornuta….dozens more. Cottage gardens, full to bursting.

We met a cross lady who was NOT enjoying her barge holiday and was VERY glad this was the final day. Passed bridge after reflected bridge. Lock after white lock. Paused at the memorial to seven Polish airmen who lost their lives when their plane crashed right there in 1943.

We climbed the hill (to avoid a repeat encounter with the swan) and walked back through the woods; past ranks of slender birches, stick straight and tiptoe tall. Came upon Kildwick Hall, guarded by stone lions. Ached with envy for its perfect walled garden.

We dawdled through the prettiest of villages. Heard the church bells ring out 12 o’clock. Just missed being rained upon.

And we almost saw bluebells.

April at Dixon Hill

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

It's hard to believe, but April is almost over.

Here at Dixon Hill, the month has blessed us with sunshine and blue skies (mostly).  Even a few warm days in and among.  It's been a proper end to winter and oh so welcome.

Before it departs, I thought I'd share some images with you from the last four weeks here in the Pennines.  The little show is just under five minutes long.  So I suggest you get yourself a cuppa, take a few deep breaths to let go of all that tension, then settle back and let the magic of spring in Dixon Hill land work its charm.

P.S.  Debussy's Arabesque No. 1 is played by Daniel Pollack - not me!

A Pennine Safari

I went on safari in my friend, Joanne's, garden the other day.

I'll bet you didn't know we have crocodiles in the Pennines...

P.S.  Today I'm taking part in Mosaic Monday, hosted by Mary at Little Red House.  Why not pop on over and take a look at some of the other lovely mosaics you'll find links to there?