Changing Attitudes.

I used to think how romantic to lie in the fragrant heather; now alas I wonder how many ticks are lurking ready to bite me in the bum and give me Lyles Disease. The heather on Exmoor on Saturday was bare and recently shorn and I was reminded of how we used to sweal – burn the heather to the ground - on Seat Naze, in the valley where I was born. A good swealing would do the moor a power of good I would have thought.

Sunday was bright and breezy so I set off up North Hill with just my pole, camera and phone (not working – flat battery). I told MTL I would walk for an hour and then turn back and come home. By the end of an hour I had just about reached the top of the hill which then continues for about four miles. I had stopped to take a photo or two but hadn’t spoken to a soul – unless you count the sheep, lambs, pigs and horses.

Next time we’ll drive up and MTL can drop me where I stopped, and then drive on to the end and I’ll walk until I meet him and we’ll have a picnic. The first time we had a picnic on North Hill my old friend Vanessa was with us and we drank rather a lot of wine. We walked down the other side to Selworthy to have tea at the famous café but it was closed and on the way back, up a stony track, I misjudged my footing fell and broke my leg – for the second time. After this I realised that I was drinking too wine etc which inhibits the absorption of calcium and I’ve been a good girl ever since.

I could hear the lambs but couldn’t see them until I went to look over a gate at two pigs and a whole menagerie came towards me, expecting to be fed. And then I saw the lambs. This lot of animals were a very bedraggled lot but I suspect they may be rare breeds. What do you think?