Early morning call

Aside

I meant to have a lie in this morning but before 6am I was awakened from a nightmare. In my dream half a dozen hostages, including two women, were huddled in a shelter and were being stoned by an angry mob. I could still hear the thud of the stones and the menacing drumbeat - even though I was wide awake. Then I realised it was the first of May and the dreaded Minehead Hobby Horse was at large.

There are photos on the web site but all seem to be copyright

www.minehead-online.co.uk/hobbyhorse.htm Look here if you are curious. It was started to frighten off Viking invaders and to represent King of the May. The aim is to collect money for charity and anyone who refuses to cough up is ‘mock menaced’ by this slightly spooky apparition. The loud beating of the drum and squeeze- box intensifies the feeling of intimidation. One of these days I’ll get up at crack of dawn, brave the monster and take photos. Maybe next year.

Yesterday I saw the girls and they were sympathetic about our aborted week-end. Jackie is on her own with the cats whilst her daughter and SIL are away and is being driven dotty by the cats bringing in rabbits to keep her company. We planned our next day out in June. As we all have new bus passes we are going to go along the coast to Lynton – quite a hairy drive by car. It’s an open top bus so it could be wet and windy over the moor but we are not wimps.

Snowdrop Valley

Aside

Make Thou my spirit pure and clear

As are the frosty skies,

Or this first snowdrop of the year

That in my bosom lies

St Agnes’ Eve.

Tennyson Alfred 1809-1892

When we first came to live here – in ’85 - we would drive on the road between Dunster and Dulverton, to the turning to the valley, park the car and wander – lonely as clouds - through the white carpeted wonderland. But its fame has spread and now there is no parking allowed and the road is closed to traffic. These days the council run a special bus from Wheddon Cross and one can leave one’s car in the pub car park. We caught the half past ten bus – the first - and were driven towards Exford, then took the turning towards Steart. Then a long, long drop into the bowels of the earth and I marvelled that MTL and I had walked that whole valley. At the bottom the bus deposited us and told us there would be a return bus a ten to and twenty past.

It was very cold – in spite of the weak winter sunshine and soggy underfoot. By the time we had finished the circular walk we realised we had missed the ten to and would have a chilly wait for the next one when - hey presto - a different bus appeared and we thawed inside it until the driver took off- driving to the far end of the valley to avoid the precipitous hill which we were certain it would never make.

We drove back home to collect MTL and thence to Porlock’s Ship Inn. Almost three years ago MTL had an atrial fibrillation episode whilst we were there with family, and we haven’t set foot in it since, so this was by way of laying a ghost (as long as it’s the ghost and not me said MTL.) The terrace was sunny but we slunk indoors and I was disappointed to find no fire.

‘It’s been manic!’ the waitress said – it did get busy later but seemed very quiet to us. Some of us had a hearty tomato and basil soup and some roast chicken plus accompaniments. We knew that grand- daughter was cooking a delicious pasta dish in the evening. Thank goodness for digital; I’m no great photographer but these are better than the white blurs I used to get.