The Inn on the Lake

The above photo was taken off the inn’s web site

Pages 26/27

Thursday …28th … A slightly overcast sky greeted me this morning, although the sun was expected to shine.

Rest day, with a strong gusty wind blowing and intermittent sunshine, you guessed it, laundry day, once the washing is done and flapping merrily on the line, and the morning chores are taken care of we three all do our own thing.

Norma tends to the plants in the hothouse for a while or potters around her garden, as we all have our own laptops we adjourn to our rooms and catch up on emails, friends or writing.      Lunch today is a sandwich of choice, and then it’s back to reading, typing or just chatting until it’s time o prepare dinner and as it wasn’t a very active day we just have a light dinner before adjourning to the lounge room for a spot of TV before bed time.

 

   Friday … 29th Woke to the sound of rain, and I ask myself, why wouldn’t it be a wet day, we are being taken to the Lake District as a treat,

This trip to Glenridding  Village had been arraigned by Ian and Lindsay a couple of weeks back, the lake district being a must see for visiting tourist, it’s also where they were married so remains a very special place for the both of them. We set off in two cars being that there are too many of us  to fit comfortably in one, Lindsay and young Harry in one, while Ian is chauffeuring his mum in the front passenger seat, Pat and myself in the back with Ozzy … the dog …  sitting quietly  in the boot section behind us.

                        The rain had eased during the drive but not the wind, on alighting from the vehicle I could feel its freezing bite heading straight to my bones. Majestically imposing, the building itself was what I have come to expect here. The Inn on the Lake, Glenridding, Ullswater, Cumbria, CA11 0PE. Recently awarded 4 AA stars and two rosettes, it enjoys one of the most spectacular settings in the Lake District on 15 acres of grounds, with lawns sweeping to the shores of Lake Ullswater. The village is popular with mountain walkers who can scale England’s third highest mountain, Helvellyn, and many other challenging peaks from here. A dog friendly hotel with its own outdoor activities including 9 hole pitch and putt golf course, croquet lawn and children’s outdoor play area.

We decided to wander through the village itself first, and seeing the Glenridding Public hall was having a craft market we headed over there, where  talented locals were selling their creations, Pat bought a lovely wooden wine glass holder that fits over the neck of the wine bottle as gift for her hubby Bill. There was so many beautifully crafted treasures, jewellery, hand knitted goods, or toys, albeit our main trouble being we are so limited in what we can buy to take on the plane.  Next stop was the quaint little tourist shop that seemed to sell anything from postcards, snacks, and souvenirs through to kiddies wear.

It was soon time to return so we could explore the grounds of the inn, rounding the corner of the building itself to an awe inspiring panoramic view  spread out before us, framed by side boundaries of various flowering shrubs and bushes all doing the dance of the uninhibited to the beat of the relentless gusts of icy cold wind,  the vivid green of manicured lawns separated by a wide arrow-straight path, itself defined by a meticulously clipped low hedge, both leading to the edge of the lake that today is dressed in her best shimmering slate grey,  appearing to almost meet up in the distance with … save but for the misty smudge that depicted the distant shore … the dark rolling nimbostratus clouds that had blocked the sunlight, thus preventing what would have been to all intents and purposes a picture perfect vision.

Wandering to the water’s edge where Ozzy is let off his leash, this freedom has him racing to what appears to be a lake overflow pool which on close inspection houses hundreds of tiny little fish that are constantly weaving in and out between the water weeds growing there. Without any hesitation Ozzy runs into the water splashing and thrashing around having a wonderful time.

Harry had wandered to the end of a small pier, Ian found a stick which he threw into the lake, sending Ozzy off with tail wagging and an open mouth tongue lolling grin into the water in a mad dash to grab it, with Harry yelling encouragement and pointing to the floating stick as it drifts to and fro in the choppy water, the dog happily retrieves it and returns it to shore, this game went on until we were all feeling the need for warmth and a comforting hot drink so headed  back into the Inn.

Passing through the Lake View lounges to the unique Orangery with 360 degree views of the lake and surround- fells to enjoy afternoon tea. To my utter amazement  the moment we were seated a waiter came bearing a dog bowl containing fresh water and placed it on the floor at Ozzie’s paws, gave him a friendly pat and with a warm smile in our direction quietly withdrew. Our waiter took our drink orders, and confirmed the afternoon tea menu was to our liking then left only to return a short while later.

Placing alongside a fresh fruit, sliced ham and cheese platter a basket of aromatic  warm garlic bread that immediately had our mouths watering, soon followed by two three tiered serving plates of sandwiches, little pork pie halves, sweet and shortbread biscuits not to mention an assortment of cream cakes to please any palate, without a doubt a spread fit for royalty. Harry unimpressed by all the delicacies before him ordered his favourite bacon barm, English for bread roll, and  a hot chocolate drink.

While we were enjoying our sumptuous respite, we were watching with great interest a wedding party assembling on the patio outside the Lake View lounges. With her elbow length veil floating in the wind and wearing a figure hugging snow white wedding gown the Bride looked dazzling, resting her arm on that of I assume her father’s, while her attendants dressed in sleeveless what appeared to be Cadbury blue gowns, waited for the cue to lead them down the path to the gazebo, set up halfway down the lawn towards the lake.

It was while they were signing the register certificates that the rain came slicing down on their guests who were not under cover, causing them to leave their seats and make a run for the shelter of the Inn, it was only a short wait until the rain passed so the newly married couple were able to walk with dignity back to their guests without getting wet.

After a second round of coffee and hot chocolates and with most of the afternoon tea consumed, it was time to make our way home, bringing to an end what had been a wonderful fun day, thanks to Lindsay and Ian’s generosity. On being dropped off at home, we three girls went straight to the lounge room for reminiscence on the day, a little TV and bed

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Quote

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Ha Ha Ha.”

This isn’t a joke but one of the funnyest things that happened on a caravan trip we went on a while back

Froggy Loo

Froggy Loo

We thought it was a ruse he hadn’t been on the booze
when he called for Pat to bring her camera over there
we all enjoy a joke ‘twas from the location that he spoke
that made us think he may need a Medic’s care.

Standing by the male’s loo door beckoning to her once more
had her unsure as to just what she aughta do
Bill and I started to giggle as her embarrassment made her wiggle
so I grabbed the cameras saying we’ll come along with you

As we all approached with a firm voice I reproached
you know very well that girls are not allowed in there
This once doesn’t matter so cut the goddamned chatter
there’s no one else around to really care

Feeling like two fools knowingly about to break the rules
we entered to where men respond to natures call
He hadn’t lost his mind as his strange request was defined
when we saw the huge tree frog clinging to the wall

With our cameras all on flash we resembled a paparazzi bash
while the poor frog didn’t even hedge
Excitement was running high then came an excited cry
hey there’s another one up on that ledge

A tour of inspection in the stand-up-only section
found one sitting on a pipe connected to the tank
Point and click didn’t have a show the zoom was the way to go
resulting in another frog in the photo bank

Bill who went outside found one that tried to hide
on a waste pipe that ended underground
We searched every where even in the ladies lair
but there were no more frogs to be found

After the entire hullabaloo we left the gentleman’s loo
leaving the frogs catching bugs for their dinner
Next time his request seems rather odd I’ll give a knowing nod
as this one turned out to be a ruddy winner

DAILY PROMPT Ha Ha Ha

Writing 201: Poetry; Day 9: Landscape, Found Poetry, Enumeratio

201

 Just a load of codswollip

 

G’day mate!

Ya look like a stunned mullet,
chucking a sickie ?

Came a bit of a gutser there
jobs down the gurgler
I’m buggered, broke and bewildered
was sprung gabbin on the dog and bone
in my bag of fruit

fits like a bum in a bucket
me face full of fungus
was as welcome as a beer in Kindergarten

the mug boss was full as a goog
chucked a fair dinkum wobbly
did his bloody block
gave me the bloody bullet

Bugger me dead!
what a load of old cobblers
ya got the rough end of the pineapple cobber
ya bloods worth bottling mate

Talk about the lucky country
we’re stuck in the middle of bloody Woop-Woop
dry as a bulls bum going up a hill backwards
dig a hole and bury me mate, it just don’t get better than this!

Wanta wet ya whistle?

Na, better hit the frog ‘n toad
go home to the ball and chain and billy lids
between you me and the gatepost..
she’s in the pudding club again

Strewth; fair suck of the sav
don’t come the raw prawn with me mate!
yer gotta be pulling me chain

Na ridgy-didge

What do you think it is, Bushweek?

Get off yer bloody high horse mate
I need this like a motorbike needs a bloody ashtray

You’ve got two chances in hell mate: Buckley’s and none

Fair dinkum mate a bloke’s buggered
ya can’t have one foot either side of the fence if it’s made from barbed wire.

hooroo I’m off like a bucket of prawns in the hot sun

Hooroo mate good luck.

Writing 201; Day Eight: Drawer, Ode, Apostrophe

201

So where are the socks kept now?

 

Would you mind getting the baby for me it’s time for his feed?

being the first time for a cuddle, I happily agreed

For the moment he’s in our room near the far side of the bed

oddly I find him not in a cot but a sock draw instead

giving him a cuddle while whispering in his shell pink ear

“Oh you little sweetheart let Aunt Wendy get you out of here”

Handing him to his mum amid her giggling explanation

until the cot gets delivered ‘twas their one real option

Day Five: Fog, Elegy, Metaphor

201

Fog

Fog

It whirls, twirls and swirls as it curls it’s way through the tree tops,

quite oblivious that it’s blocking the rays of the sun.

This crone’s left to moan and groan she’s chilled to the bone, t’is supposed to be summer,

albeit appears we’re in for none

I swear ‘twas a dare to share how much skin I could bare as we’d planned a day at the beach,

the epitome of fun.

Plans lain in vain drive some insane like when fog rolls in leaving nothing to gain,

in the future all weather I’ll shun

Quote

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Easy Fix.”

A team mate of mine had agreed to represent our Marching club in a local “Miss Henley on the Patterson “ contest, as registration day got closer she became more hesitant … being that I can usually talk the leg off a wooden horse, I was elected to convince her to go through with it. After telling her what an honour it was to be asked in the first place, she should do it for the club, She replied “would you do it if they asked?” replying “I would, but you were the one they asked, not I.” With that she called the chaperone, told her she couldn’t go through with it, but that I had said I would if asked!

 Now what could I do? I had shot my mouth off and was stuck with it.

As appearances didn’t count at registration, our chaperone and I left straight after practice. We walked into a room full of what I thought were Vogue models, while I, looking hot and dishevelled following two solid hours of marching practice in the heat cut a dashing figure in my old shorts, a man’s shirt, dirty marching boots, . At twenty I have very little self confidence to start with,  so understandably I just wanted to faint, even dying seemed a good idea.

Two hours of registration, afternoon tea, chat and mingle, carried off with all the aplomb of a professional contestant, until safely in the car to go home. Collapsing into tears, sobbing apologies to the Chaperone, whom I felt I had let down. She of course thought it was a scream, explaining that the girls were explicitly told not to dress up for registration  … they wouldn’t win points for doing so … “The look on your face when you walked in that room was priceless”, she continued to giggle all the way home. I was not convinced, seven had, and 1 had not, who would you pick?

Judging was held on Australia Day as part of the town’s celebration. Our teams (being the reigning Victorian Champions) were scheduled to do a serious March Past in front of the Frankston Town Hall. The Mayor would take the salute and officiate at the flag raising ceremony, ending forty five minutes before we were expected to meet the judges for the Henley parade and results (a 15 minute bus ride away)

My hair in plastic curlers prior to the Henley Judging wouldn’t fit under the marching cap (all long hair had to be tucked up under caps), so they were removed and pins inserted. (This all took place in the main street as we waited for the parade to start.

Oh boy!!!!

Okay, ceremony over, all 30 girls scrambled into the bus, the only males being the driver and the instructor who sat behind him. I am bundled to the very back seats and stripped out of uniform. While trying to protect my modesty, many hands dress me, ever tried to put on suspenders (this was 1963) and stockings in the back of a moving bus? A very harrowing thirty minutes (for me) later we pull up at Carrum.

Exiting the bus dressed to the nines, full make up, hat, gloves, seams straight in stockings, and white stiletto heeled shoes, the chaperone precariously walks me  to, of all places the river, where I am introduced to the most gorgeous looking young Naval Captain, who in turn gallantly escorts me to a nifty looking speed boat. (They actually expect me to get into his boat … to travel on water along the river!!!). I had no idea that “Henley on the Patterson” meant the Patterson River. I’ve always been scared stiff of water as I couldn’t swim. But when Handsome smiled at me and took my hand saying “Come on Wendy you are safe with me,” I am lost, into his death trap I get quite happily. Like some star struck teenager nervously waving to the crowd that lined the river, I am taken to a pier where Handsome helps me up the ladder, then roars off for the next pick up.

Being so relieved to be back on dry land (albeit at the time he could have sailed me of into the future, I was so smitten) I missed the name of the woman waiting to greet me. While awaiting the arrival of other girls I regale the complete tragic story to her, from being tricked into entering this contest, embarrassing myself at the registration, the hair in curlers under the cap, being stripped and traumatized in the back of the bus, and then meeting the handsome Captain. She was in stitches through my tale of woe. It wasn’t until the whole thing was over, that I find out she isn’t a chaperone as I thought, but the Lady Mayoress and the head judge waiting to greet the contestants. Luckily, by this time, I was past worrying “And all was right in the world.”

Henley on The Patterson

Merry Christmas 2014

With confounded climate-change causing concern, for the predictability of Christmases past Santa‘s starting to yearn, traveling in weather so obscure tends to dampen any allure …T’was a simpler world in days gone by.

With the USA’s fall still on the go, albeit already buried under tons of snow, compared to that lot residing down-under, probably sweltering amid lightning and thunder … a poor bloke ‘ill need medics on standby.

All hosed down and combed, their presentation totally honed, Rudolf and the elegant eight almost chomping at their stable gate, aware it’s nearly time for their annual defy … guiding Santa’s sleigh across a star adorned sky.

Leaving Santa busy with orders to fill, and using dedication more than skill, I’m attempting to appear rested and calm, while praying my humble efforts cause no harm … to family or guests whom on my cooking rely.

It’s inclined to set an oldies head in a spin, selecting gifts for some beloved kith and kin, let alone extras for those special friends the choice on which discretion depends….albeit within Chrissy spirit they must comply.

What theme in which the house and tree to decorate, once spontaneous now a cause to speculate, should the tinsel be silver, green or maybe red, silly decisions that fill one with dread … possibly simpler to diversify

Confidentially, if we were to stuff this one up when all’s said and done around the corner comes another one, accepting our mental credence depicts the speed of their appearances…just a thought, your panic to nullify

Whether Christmas depicts a Christian toast or a family fun day for you to host, why not utilise the opportunity to send good wishes, to those too far afield to receive hugs and kisses … so love can amplify

Singing through my tears

Moved to Tears

Do movies, songs, or other forms of artistic expression easily make you cry? Tell us about a recent tear-jerking experience!

 

It had happened again, as it does about this time every year, I had been taken over by a little person that resides deep within, as I feel does in every one,. She refuses to let adulthood take over her place in my life since she woke as a child, and to this day swears she saw Santa putting gifts on the end of her bed.

Now the only problem I have with this ego, is that for some reason the sound of Christmas carols set her emotions on an unexplained ebb and flow of haunting warmth and longing, that triggering off a rollercoaster ride which in turn opens the floodgates and tears start to flow … Automatically I attempt to join in, albeit is impossible to sing along and cry at the same time.

Having battled this embarrassing conundrum all my life, although years ago arrived at the stage where I can almost pretend they are not playing everywhere in the shopping centers, therefore I get to do most of my shopping without sobbing, although the bill sometimes makes me want to.

Now this new problem arose last December in the form of a five year old Fairy Princess who calls me Nana and spends every Friday yakking at me. I was instructed it was time to put up home decorations, okay this means we had to visit the garage. Oh goody! … Rummaging through twelve months of accumulated dust to locate boxes, then lug them back to the shamefully undecorated lounge room.

With ladder in hand and supervisor on a chair in the centre of the room, I was directed as to what was to go where, all fine as I do enjoy this part of Christmas, but sadly neglected to continue the tradition after our own offspring had flown the coup.

Then the REQUEST that led to the quandary of how to handle the situation. Nana, can we Please play Christmas carols, jingle bells and Rudolf the red nose reindeer? Being the best Nana I can, I dig out the records and the player (yes I am not that modern) I still have Bing Crosby singing White Christmas.

Anyway she is so mesmerised by Nana’s funny big black cd’s as she called them, she didn’t notice my half strangled replies or the eyes starting to fill,  even going into another room didn’t help as my Friday shadow was right there yakking.

After playing the above mentioned requests, and before I completely dissolved into a blubbering mess, I put on White Christmas and did the only thing I could think of at the time, I started to sing along with Bing. Now for those of you out there that unaware, I’m the only Mum I know of that when she sang lullabies to her babies they started to cry until I stopped.

It only took one carol before my Princess decided it was time to go outside for the twentieth time to see if the chooks had laid any more eggs.

I think I need a better solution, as I don’t want her to grow up crying every time she is with me and hears carols, in case Nana starts to sing again.

 

 Some sisters do ‘ave em.

I have a younger brother

and we know they can be a pain

Whenever we straightened him out

he’d grin and scrunch up again

I always used to mother him,

as we were motherless kids

I’m sure t’was my influence

that saved him from hitting the skids

He isn’t tall dark or handsome

but we love him anyway

Today ‘s his happy birthday

we wish him hip-hip-hurray

Wishing we were there to help celebrate

but couldn’t make the pace

It’s safe to light your candles

the fire brigade’s outside your place.

ROARING LAUGHTER

THE DAILY POST: ROARING LAUGHTER JULY 7, 2014

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/roaring-laughter/ What was the last thing that gave you a real, authentic, tearful, hearty belly laugh? Why was it so funny?

 

Slippery Slips

Slips

9.30am Saturday morning, a beautiful sunny day, all I have to do is decorate a birthday cake for our five year old granddaughter, we don’t have to leave for the party until 3.30pm. Hubby is about to leave to collect some offered wood, free firewood being hard to come by should be collected as soon as possible.
Our daughter and I are chatting on the computer before she goes shopping for ingredients to complete a casserole she’s taking to the party. Out of the blue I hear

May! I need help … Slips is in next door’s yard … can you give me a hand please,

Quickly relaying this event to Sunny, I join Hubby at the fence, sure enough there’s slips, our two year old Dorper sheep happily grazing in the yard next door, nearby a dip in the fence suggesting his means of entry. Hubby’s in a quandary as this is one large sheep that has no intention of coming near us.

Here you take his lead May he may come to you … I’ll go get some feed he’ll come for that.

Sweet talking him gets him over to me, attempting to slip the lead over his head scares him off, hubby arrives with the food and seeing Sunny (who has come out to watch the fun) asks.

Can you ring next doors and let them know what’s going on in their back yard… Hubby and I climb through the fence,

I rang them, can I do anything to help Dad? … Yes please, Mum and I won’t be able to do it alone.

Hang on a min I’ll get some sturdy shoes on… she disappears inside only to return a few minutes later in work shoes and an old jumper over her good gear.

Approaching Slips and offering the food, then just as the animal goes to feed Hubby, with all the agility of someone well past their prime, lunges grabbing hands full of wool, the suddenness of this attack causes Slips to take off. Hubby now laying across his back clinging with all his might,  berating him with a full vocabulary of swear words while trying to bring this well fed sheep to ground.

Hubby’s having trouble holding Slips down …  Bloody hell Dad, be careful, hold him, I’ll come in there, 

 Hell! … grab his bloody front feet May, Sunny you grab his back legs’ and hold him for gods sake,

Sunny’s grinning like a fool … We should have the camera going  it’s funnier than Funniest Home Movies … God I hope no one’s watching this and calling the RSPCA,

The thought cracking me up into in a fit of the giggles, we now have poor Slips pinned down,

What now Dad?  … How the bloody hell would I know I don’t even know how to get out of this friggen place, even if I did the stupid sheep won’t lead, he’ll just jump around and there’s no way of holding him.

How about we get the wheelbarrow and wheel him home? … That remark earning me a look that says if you can’t talk sense shut up.

I told you I don’t know the way through this place…Dad if we get him over to where he came through the fence, could we lift him back over?

Buggered if I know, but I need something to tie his feet together, you two keep holding him down while I get something,  don’t let the bugger go.

Both crouching down with a death grip on poor Slip’s legs giggling fit to burst,

God he can kick, he got me a beauty on the shin, its gunna have a terrific bruise hope I can drive. I gotta go get the stuff for the casserole…You’ll make it, but I’m not sure how the hell we’re gunna get Slips back, Dad’s not happy,

How ya hands holding up Mum, you ok?… Oh they’re doing ok thanks love.

He returns with enough rope to hogtie a ruddy wild bull, and proceeds to tie the front feet together.

Oh for god’s sake Hubs you’re not in a bloody Rodeo, he doesn’t need to be so bound up.

Dragging and pulling we manage to get Slips to the fence line without damage,

Mum! … stop laughing,

All trying to lift  poor helpless Slip’s is hopeless, we can’t even raise him an inch off the ground. I’m lost, tears running down my face while grasping my aching stomach, caused from laughing.

Slips starts to buck and wriggle around… Muzz watch it … too late I cop a kick right in the inner thigh muscle.

Sunny you drop on top of him and hold him steady … Hang on!  I have a cramp in my bloody leg, I’m getting up to ease it.

Drop on him Sunny, come on … Dancing around not sure where to drop, down she goes trying not to actually squash him, the wriggling stops.

Dad as we can’t lift him what if you get the wheelbarrow, could we get him in that and maybe roll him over the fence where he came through?

S**t, the bloody barrow’s full of wood, I’ll have to empty the confounded thing, you two hold him there, I won’t be long … he wanders off muttering who-knows-what, about bloody sheep.

This is lovely, can you just see their faces at school tomorrow when they ask … And what did you do over the weekend Sunny? … Oh nothing much just rolled around in next doors yard with Mum, Dad and Mum’s pet sheep, …  we are both a giggling mess when Hubby returns with the empty barrow and lifts it over the fence with difficulty.

Tipping it on its side hard up against Slips’s back so we could roll him into it, between the three of us this was accomplished with a lot of laughing, (from we two girls only) huffing and puffing. The barrow is lined up against the fence as all together we roll and push him under the top wire.

Oh bugger I pushed my hand up his backside and that’s not something one should do unless you’re wearing rubber gloves … Sunny that’s not a nice thing to say, but it’s ok love I won’t tell anyone I promise,                                                                                              

Amid a new round of laugher we actually get him through and land him softly on our side of the fence, untying his legs and gently getting him to his feet, he wanders off as if it was a normal event in his life.

Well I’m off to get the bloody wood if there’s any left,

Ok, I’ll ring next doors and tell them we’ve finished, then I’m off to have a shower again before I go shopping, I stink of sheep.

And I’m going home to decorate the birthday cake.