Wales

This week, in rather unpromising weather, we drove across the bridge to Wales.

Our destination was Llandrindod Wells,a popular spa town in the Victorian era. The town, and the hotel where we stayed, has seen better days - this is polite English understatement!

The hotel was a huge great slab of uncompromising green with interior decor straight from the '50's and a view from our bedroom window that provided a new low in our experience of hotel accommodation. Oh, well, we kept the curtains closed, at least the bed was comfortable and the water hot!

The town is full of fine examples of Victorian architecture

and in the park in front of the hotel we were pleased to see a statue to the artist Thomas Jones (1742-1803), a local man whose Italian paintings we admire.

Victorian visitors once flocked to the town to take the restorative spa waters so we wandered down to Rock Park Spa to see what all the fuss was about.

At the fountain I cupped my hand to drink, the water promised all manner of improvements to my health.
Iron-rich, it tasted disgusting and lay in my stomach like lead!

'No wonder they're all dead!' quipped Himself.

Like the rest of the town, Rock Park was rather neglected and forlorn.

Two of the former Rock Park shops, attractively built in blue and cream brickwork.

The following day the weather gradually improved and we drove along a beautiful and very narrow minor road on our way to the Elan Valley. We stopped under these larch trees to drink from our flask. 

 There were no passing places along the road. Luckily we met no-one coming the other way!

The Elan Valley comprises 70 square miles of moor and woodland, rivers, dams and reservoirs. It is  run by Dwr Cymru  (Welsh Water) supplying water to the city of Birmingham. 

The threatening sky at Cabon Coch looked a promising subject for Skywatch Friday.

But when the sun shone at the Garreg Ddu dam the atmosphere became completely different.

There are six dams in the valley. (The Nant y Gro Dam was used for tests during WW2 in preparation for the Dambusters Raid.)

Pen y Garreg

The water levels were very low.

We reached the head of the valley just before the sun went down.

Perfect timing!

A sunny Sunday

I walked on a bedroom carpet in my bare feet when we came back from holiday and discovered that the floor was soaking wet, caused by a leak from the water tank in the attic. Yesterday the plumber came and because it was so wet and muddy outside Himself brought some dust-sheets from the shed to put down on the stairs and landing in preparation for all the traipsing up and down. Oh, my poor dust-sheets, a mouse had made a nest of them last winter and now they are a mass of holes! This morning the rain had stopped so I put the sheets in the washing machine and then hung them out to dry. What a sight, the mouse had made a thoroughly good job of chewing through every layer of fabric! 

But the sun was shining, I find it hard to be downhearted on a day like today. We put on our boots and enjoyed a walk around the lake. Tomorrow I'm going shopping to find a big box to store my dust sheets in - once they've been patched! 

Autumn skywatch

A dull, damp morning for Skywatch Friday. The temperature has dropped, there is no wind and dozens of small birds are flitting about the garden feasting on seed heads and berries.

The leaf mould and compost from last year has been tipped onto the veg plot.

Now the business begins of collecting this year's leaves as they fall 

and putting all this

into this!

The kittens from next door are large enough to explore outside and their adventure playground is our garden. But they are still small enough to come to grief down the well or in one of the water butts (Buttons has already fallen into the pond) so we've covered them all with wire netting. It's rather like having visiting toddlers!

Everything is going over.

There are still flowers

and colour

but it's a rather raggedy affair!

End of season

I think it's safe to say that our Indian summer is over. This morning we woke to dull, damp weather and there is now a steady down pouring of rain. It had been forecast a few days ago and I spent the weekend gathering crops and seeds while they were dry. It's a satisfying job which gives me the feeling of being well-organised and in control of the gardening cycle. (I'm delusional.)

Coriander seed.

I tidied up the strawberry bed while I was about it and was annoyed to have a squirrel sitting above me in the walnut tree sending a shower of shell casings down on my head!

Our walnut tree is large, seen in the centre of the photo.

It's very productive. You might think it hard for squirrels to eat the entire contents of such a large tree but, believe me, they can. As soon as the nuts are ripe the squirrels arrive, in threes! Don't tell me they look cute, I'm not listening. I WANT MY NUTS! We banged a few down with a long stick and now they are drying off in the greenhouse along with the squash.

The summer crops are coming to an end, the last of the courgettes and tomatoes.

And the citrus are now under cover and rewarding us with lovely perfume,

There are still flowers to pick from the garden

but it's a soggy, drippy old space out there.

I tiptoe along the stepping stones when I move from the garage to the house so that my feet don't get too wet. 

The steamer chair looks rather forlorn, it will be put under cover with the other garden furniture as soon as the rain stops!

The traditional winter veg are thriving in this weather, with sprouts netted against the pigeons

and rows of leeks.

Just look at the cosmos,

 so much pleasure to have from just one packet of seeds!

Log pile

As the nights draw in the temperature is dropping sharply. As soon as the sun is down it's too chilly to be outside.

How those telegraph wire ruin a good sunset!  

For Friday Skywatch.

 Himself called the log man this week to order a load of wood to take us through the winter. He had to shout into the phone because Wilson was at a ploughing match and couldn't hear above the noise. We were reminded to stock up because there was a feature on wood in the newspaper. The article stated that in the 19th century in the heavily forested state of Maine young women were advised to look at the condition of a man's wood pile when considering if they were suitable marriage material. If the wood pile was an unusual shape then he was a free thinking, open spirited man although a point to watch out for was that the construction may be weak! I went and had a look at our wood pile to see what it said about Himself.

What to make of it? The front is properly stacked and loose wood thrown in behind. Well, we've plenty of it and that's good, it means the man is loyal. It's not a 'pedantic pile' which could mean that he's a pedantic perfectionist - heaven forfend! Is ours a flamboyant pile? If so then he's flamboyant but possibly also a bluffer. All in all I think my man's a keeper and our wood is all decent dry hardwood so cosy nights are ahead. It's stacked in one of the old dog pens.

The position of the former dog runs can be clearly seen on the ground. We have kept the concrete because we like to see the history of the place, the house where the estate gamekeepers always lived. Future owners will no doubt think it a mess and dig it up.

A smaller stack of older wood is heaped behind a couple of water butts. No prizes for careful stacking.

But look next door. What does this say about our neighbour? A flamboyant pedantic perfectionist maybe? How would you describe the owner of such a wood pile? (I'll tell him what you think!)

If you've got a wood pile I hope it's saying all the right things about you!