How Green is our Valley?

Peter arrived home. He opened the garage door. He was puzzled. All across the floor there were seed packets of all sorts, but mostly vegetables. They were all in neat rows with various villagers’ names on. He left the car on the drive. He made his way through the washing and various seed trays. There was a neat pile of unopened letters on the hall table and a lot of church correspondence spread itself elsewhere. His wife was deep in the latest church secretarial duties. She was clearly overrun. He had been away for three weeks. His mind was made up. He had thought about it on the Varig flight home. He was going to retire early. He felt, quite rightly, that enough people had lost their lives on planes and his luck might be running out. Quite enough public works had been performed by the family and it was time for a break. He didn’t know which jobs had been more arduous. He had been the local RHS gardening society chair and his wife was constantly filling in. It was time that the new vicar found another two people to see to the church fabric and procedures and as for the controversy over the millennium tapestry, that needn’t include him either. Since Captain George had died there was no one to cover for either of them. His wife looked strained to death. Resignations were to be written and he was due early retirement after facing a considerable amount of danger. Further, he had also lost Trish, his right hand assistant at work, so that was that.

Aaah the joys of foreign travel and Field Research. Custom designed benches, air conditioned laboratory, computerised data acquisition, and “hotel” accomodation above a truckers garage!

Peter’s wife, knowing that this moment was on hand, had accumulated a large pile of houses situated in places that they would like to retire to. Peter had actually gone out and purchased a new car. He was that serious. Her beloved XR3i had gone to the dump. George Tooth, the old boy who shot vermin on Susan’s allotment, had declared that he would stop now that Peter was home. His upper window, which he used for a good shot was firmly shot. Peter had bought her a posh new frock for the last horticultural show. She refused to wear a hat to give the prizes out. Her nerves were like chewed string! Giving out prizes anywhere was not on her agenda. Peter had booked them in on a retirement course. The company liked to help people retire properly. It was all a bit strange. Because this was a village near the polo grounds, the house was sold for a ridiculous sum.

Who could resist buying a garden with 2 magnificent Field Maples like this. But you’ve got to like mowing!

After a real effort to take Susan home to Wales, Peter could find nowhere with a large garden. They were both desperate to get their big garden back. They had moved out of a house with a large garden, because nobody except them had lived there any more, so the house had been big and empty. They desperately wanted their garden back. Peter remembered that many years before they had visited and walked Meldon in Chagford, so they set off without much hope. They thought that it looked expensive. They parked nearly Phil Fowler’s agency and he took them to see a couple of houses, which they could actually afford. The second house had a massive garden. They both found the house charming with some minor drawbacks, but the garden was exactly right. They bought the house and moved in. This would be their fifth move. Furniture was abandoned all over the house. Peter and Susan were experienced movers. Their old greenhouse had been brought in the removal van and they set about erecting it. There was an old log store and an abandoned stable block. How lucky could you get! The garden had been part of the original building and was many years old. It’s problem was that a horse had grazed it, but only the middle. The rest of the garden was wild. While Peter parked his motor bike, cement mixer and gardening tools in the stable, Susan had an explore. In the log store, there were piles of gardening canes. They were tall and in good condition. There was even string and rope. Near the garden’s entrance, under the apple tree, there were rows of old fashioned raspberry canes, which were cleared of weed and produced wonderful fruit. They found more shrubs and plants. Peter wanted to make a parkland garden and he based it on two giant field maples in the middle of the garden. There was going to be a lot of work and some money to spend, so he accepted two of the consultancy jobs which he had been offered. To this day, he still works for John, who lives in Cambridgeshire. Peter helps with queries and, for a while, Susan was able to help with her registration experience and Josie with some of her expertise. We have all been friends now for many years and it has been a wonderful association, so we found friends as well as the garden. Another John , who also worked for ICI, and is Josie’s godfather, also helps in John’s business. To this blog, he is the friend who loves Jacob’s cream crackers and will travel a long way for a decent cup of coffee. That is definitely so when we visit him in Wales. He has a wonderful home, where red kites fly and green hills dominate.

When the old mower’s steering wheel came off in Peter’s hands, a new mower was purchased, which Susan used all summer, while Peter watched her as he thought of ideas and recommendations for his clients on sheets of paper in the verandah of the stable block.

Vegetable Garden Mk 1

The girls arrived home from Uni and vaguely approved their parent’s new home. The house was so full of dust that Josie had to be left outside while her room was Hoovered thoroughly by her father, who had banned both child and mother from an environment that would have undoubtedly caused asthma to raise its ugly head. Not the best way to please new doctors.

The Mini about to leap off the “ski jump”, sorry concrete access way

As the weeks went on, Susan became a new woman. Dr.Wollaston had soon got to grips with her problems. She had had two hospital appointments, which had sorted her out. She regretted not being allowed caffeinated tea and coffee. Peter had bought a pile of decaf. And she had been supervised by him for a whole month until she had given in. Her asthma medication was well sorted. He definitely thought they had made the right move. His wife was actually well! As it happened, he had just got the concrete mixer out and was about to lay two concrete strips across the mud that stopped them parking the car in a sensible place. At the moment, one car had to be parked outside under the kitchen window. Josie’s current boyfriend had already made a dent in the wall. Susan could now grow in strength by trundling concrete supplies up and down from a building pile. She now looked at her old posh frock and wondered if it would ever be used in her new life. It wasn’t!

Vegetable Garden Mk 2. One raised bed built…….3 more to go…….

So, now, the years have rolled on and Peter’s latest job has been to plant 230 native saplings in the garden. A small contribution to reforestation. As a concession to Peter and Susan’s increasing age Peter has built four raised vegetable beds. The garden has more of everything including seats and Josie occasionally wonders about it all, but you can’t usually stop her headstrong parents doing anything. On the quiet, she has a list of gardeners, who might be able to cope, but don’t hold your breath. The garden will have many tales to tell yet! There is still a much improved house here, but people only want to come and sit in the garden and have a drink at one of Peter’s homemade rustic tables. Who knows? If you sit very quietly, you may meet the resident fox, but it’s more likely to be that dreadful badger that no one is ever comfortable with, not since the Murder on New Street, (follow the link) now a while ago, but that was another story.

230 wonderful trees, courtesy of The Woodland Trust. It’s not too late to plant some yourself

Words by Sue

Pictures by Peter

Visit our Facebook Page at Dartmoor Diary Facebook Page and The Photographer is abandoning Artfinder,  ( Peter Bennett on Artfinder ) so contact him directly on Peter Bennett Photos email

The Photographer’s snapshots for this blog can be seen on     Dartmoor Diary Flickr Album or all his snapshots on  Flickr (follow link)           The serious stuff is currently only available directly from The Photographer except for a few left on his  Saatchi Art shop

Any similarity between characters in this blog and real people, products or events is entirely co-incidenta

Any similarity between “The Little Town” and Chagford is entirely deliberate, Click on this link to find out more. Visit Chagford     

The Day the Jab came to Town

…..and it’s Monica with the AZ jab…..the try line beckons…..and she’s over! score score score

The plumber pushed through the kitchen.He was sighing and generally fed up. He was carrying a large bag of tools. He decided to make an announcement. “Mrs. that child has gone wild. I don’t know what you’re going to do about it, but it’s put me and the wife properly off having kids”.

The Grand Design in all her pristine glory…..but beneath the surface lurks a monster upgrade project. Still you’ve got to do something to keep out of mischeif.

Susan eyed him up. It was going to be one of those days. She had to be careful with the plumber. Her husband had bought a modernist style flat roofed house. To say that it was just short of a project for Grand Designs was no exaggeration. Peter had disappeared into a wild part of the Brazilian jungle. Dear Trish, his treasured Personal Assistant, sent out messages about how he was getting on. Nobody had heard from him for a week. Susan was in charge of the older daughter, her mother in law, and this small child. She was also the project manager. In a moment the Plumb Centre van would arrive with the latest consignment. “Is your husband wiring up this new fangled boiler by the weekend or what?” Susan passed the plumber a chocolate biscuit and a cup of tea “with two sugars Mrs.B.” Susan was delighted that her child was wild. Sue had nearly died of asthma while she was expecting her and the child had been in hospital for a week shortly after she was born with pyloric stenosis. “ Sue”, Dr. Hancock had said, “ Girls don’t usually get it.” and Sue had wondered why it was her girl that had. She was cross about this dear little creature being so ill. Now, Sue stood by the kitchen window and watched the child and her special rescue cat, chosen out of a selection in a cardboard box, play together. The cat followed his mistress with a protective air. If anything moved near her, he was there. They were going down to the wood at the bottom of the garden to catch squirrels to save mummy’s apple trees. The child coughed and ran all the way there. The child’s asthma had continued. Susan’s friend, the local headmaster, used to ring her when the child was “barking” during the winter” and she would have to go and get her in her ratty XR3i. The child would roll up and down the seat with great enjoyment. She would rattle screw boxes and put Daddy’s best tools in the right boxes. At home, her granny would invite her into her room for a special meeting together involving banned sweets in a large jar. The old and the young would have a really good time together before the elder sister arrived home.

…with the ever faithful Little Red XR3i, not to be confused with the matching “hers” black XR3i which frankly was a bit of a dog

As the years went on, the child loved everything about her life. It was all cats and artistic drawings and imaginative writing. All her work was about the big house with the flat roof and cuddles and outings. Her asthma never let go and eventually, she used nebulisers very occasionally, to help her breath. Her teachers weren’t quite sure what to do with her, but her mum and dad knew. Nobody remembered that her mother had been a teacher and her father was very bright at his engineering drawings. The child had all the supplies she needed and later, had begun to sell her paintings while she was a waitress at the local pub. The parents wanted this wheezy unusual child to go to university. The teachers didn’t advise it. Her art master and grandfather were, by good fortune, both from the same area of Wales. It was known that when her grandfather had been painting, he had been part of the Dylan Thomas set. The art teacher thought this through. He caught the parents at a parent evening and offered free extra art lessons. The lessons took place in a dilapidated Nissen hut in the school grounds. Josie helped him drag water in from time to time for his class lessons. Mr. Davis got her to Loughborough university. He considered her to be very worthwhile. Meanwhile, Peter and Susan got her maths tuition from the wife of a man they had both known at ICI. The daughter would trot around to their place and occasionally cough her way through some interesting lessons. On the side, she had a huge social life. She was really good at riding the floor polisher around the school and her father had to beg a local police man not to get too serious about his stolen helmet. Sick people are frequently full of fun and sometimes, us serious types forget that. The years passed with the daughter silver servicing her way through uni. This tiresome, restless child obtained two degrees at Loughborough and made one announcement at he end of it all It was that none of those people who thought she was too sickly to do anything could ever take her degrees away.

Now, the daughter has a boss and colleagues who have worked to get to know her. She has gone from not being able to answer any of the week end quiz programs, to being able to answer all the new ones on cheese, cars and art. All was going really well when Covid hit. The daughter started to distance herself from her colleagues. Of course, eventually, everybody had to go home. There was panic. The Daughter had a letter to say that she was shielded, as did her father. The family felt threatened and very shaken. Food shopping and everything became difficult. Everything had to be done online. Catherine from Blacks and many others were genuinely helpful. No one could be let near the daughter and her father. The Daughter’s Husband had to go to work. He was extremely cautious about entering the house after work. He still has a big wash down and clean procedure on arrival home. He had his 104 year old grandmother in mind. He arranged for the shopping that he did for her to be done by a carer. Meanwhile the mother was amused as she hadn’t had a letter and just for once, could take charge of parcels and all sorts of stuff with relish. She could speak to Hermes car number 73 through the window and see how things were going out there. Strangely, the daughter did not complain. It was fortunate that she and her husband were living with her parents. All four were so grateful that they were actually all in a bubble together. The daughter was given her mother’s study to work in. She did her best, but her Zooms were surrounded by all sorts of her mother’s junk. Explaining why her mother had several old fur coats hanging on the door caused much amusement. The daughter was now furloughed. She, now decided, that she was not fit enough. She concentrated on the exercise until she could walk 10 miles. The husband helped her find and set up a running machine. Eventually, she got back to work only to be locked down again. This was not good. She was, however, full time working from home. Peter installed a background blind for Zoom calls. She insisted on driving her mum and dad to their jabs and never once mentioned that her own health was not good. She was pleased for them. A new week had just begun. Her personal phone rang, which was odd. It was Dr Hart, inviting her to a jab. She was over the moon. She had several cups of coffee and almost cartwheeled around the house.

It’s that man again. The ever cheerful “Hermes Van No. 73”

The GREAT DAY arrived. She had been so excited, she could hardly sleep. She wasn’t going to die of bloody Covid! She was getting the jab! Her father was not going to be allowed to drive her to Okehampton. This was her day. She had a shower and dressed up. A day to celebrate was here.

She drove her treasured BMW into the small car park at the surgery and Dr.Wood gave her the jab. He admired her scarf. It was very colourful. She has always thought that Dr.Wood is beyond being wonderful. He has a full understanding of what it’s like to be ill. A huge number of Chagford were at the event. Tea was laid on. It was like a big town party. She knew everyone who was there and what had been wrong with them. This was a great 2 metre distanced party. There was so much shouting that no one could hear anybody else. The daughter heard so much news that she couldn’t absorb it all. The most interesting highlight was that many of those present had been rung by Dr. Wood. Many who had had cancer treatment and various other ailments felt better and unworthy of the jab. Somebody else should have the jab instead of them. Dr. Wood had had to be at his most persuasive to get them there, but they were all jolly pleased to have had it. They all thought that they might have died without it.

The newly reborn daughter returned home. She got straight home and rang her boss. She would like to return to work when it was possible and the BMW had had a big service ready for customer calls. Of course, it wouldn’t be yet, but he ought to know, just in case.

WE WOULD LIKE TO THANK EVERYONE AT CHAGFORD HEALTH CENTRE. THEY HAVE BEEN AMAZING. NOT ONLY HAVE LOADS OF JABS HAPPENED,THEY HAVE MADE OUR WHOLE COMMUNITY FEEL SAFER AND WELL LOOKED AFTER

Words by Sue

Pictures by Peter

Visit our Facebook Page at Dartmoor Diary Facebook Page and The Photographer is abandoning Artfinder,  ( Peter Bennett on Artfinder ) so contact him directly on Peter Bennett Photos email

The Photographer’s snapshots for this blog can be seen on     Dartmoor Diary Flickr Album or all his snapshots on  Flickr (follow link)           The serious stuff is currently only available directly from The Photographer except for a few left on his  Saatchi Art shop

Any similarity between characters in this blog and real people, products or events is entirely co-incidental

Any similarity between “The Little Town” and Chagford is entirely deliberate, Click on this link to find out more. Visit Chagford     

The Virus Diaries No 4 Friday 10th April 2020

This Diary is brought to you by the producers of The Dartmoor Diary, which will continue to be produced once a month. We are lucky, and appreciate that others are suffering much more than us. This is purely a record of how the lives of one family is being affected.

The family consists of four adults all living together in a Dartmoor hamlet. Peter and Sue are over seventy, he has one kidney and Susan has slightly raised blood pressure and athsma.
Josie is much younger and also has athsma. Wesley is middle aged and is in good health.
Three members of this family are therefore, living in self isolation. The fourth member works in an isolating position and strips off outside and showers on his arrival home and is minimising his contact with the outside world as much as possible.

The week has been recorded day by day.

What lovely weather to start this special weekend. We hope that you have a happy time.

Week Four

The Weekend

Susan receives a long letter from the surgery. At first she wonders if, because of her asthma, this is a letter about the virus and more restriction on her, as with Peter and Josie. In fact, it is a letter about booking a shingles vaccination. I don’t really want one with all this business going on. I think I’ll opt to have one with my flu jab in the autumn. Shingles is very unpleasant. It just all felt rather strange.

Zany on the beach

Josie is very busy in fine weather. She is still exercising to keep her lung capacity up. Today is a special day as it is a year since she and Wes had to have their dog put down. Zany is buried next to Marcus, at the top of the garden. They were both very loyal family pets. Zany was a very attractive lady dog, while Marcus was a scruffy spaniel, who followed Susan or Josie everywhere. He didn’t want to lose control of them and there might be food about. Both dogs were unsuccessful at keeping the squirrel population under control. Josie and Wes were thinking about a new dog when the virus happened. There are probably a lot of people like that.

Marcus on the beach

There is a wonderful shared family resources lunch on Sunday. A restful period followed until 8.30 pm. When it was announced that Boris was terribly ill. The family had all voted for Boris in an effort to get someone decisive at the helm. The Irish whisky bottle was opened. Large measures were measured. The entire family went to bed very stressed.

Monday 6th April 2020

Susan spent most of the day cleaning a greenhouse inside and out. Ironically, she had been so ill with flu last year that this job had never been done. This year, she and Peter had decided that they would keep away from anyone who looked suspiciously ill! Self Isolation started there!

Josie has a difficulty. Her passport is about to run out. It is used in so many places as an identification, she must have a new one. Peter decided that taking the passport photo would not be easy, but was possible. There was quite a bit of bother. The house barely had any white untextured walls. There were pink walls, red walls, granite walls, wooden wall, all sorts. In the end, the picture was taken in the toilet on a mobile phone.

Apparently, Dominic Rabb has not spoken to Boris since Saturday! He’s not all that well then!

Many kind people are now sending cheering e-mails about their experience. Today, we have a cheery description from Paul and Jill. We have missed them and were due to go to dinner and see their lovely garden. They live near Steps Bridge and have had the most lovely spring walk. Both are under 70, so can go about to do shopping. They sadly mention that it is Paul’s birthday at Easter. Of course, no family will come to celebrate and catch up. HAPPY BIRTHDAY PAUL. Peter reads this email over morning coffee, Paul’s description of the walk is so cheery.

Trish and Mike are suffering their difficulties with great courage and humour June, who lives alone, writes of her family’s experiences all around the world.The world view is interesting with many people having similar personal difficulties wherever they live.

Tuesday

Josie has been making a delicious coleslaw from existing store cupboard ingredients. It is the most wonderful natural pinky colour.

Whist Susan is cleaning the greenhouse, a cup of coffee arrives. This is the first cup of coffee to be taken outside in our work area this year. Hoorah! While we are having coffee, we have a welcome long distance meeting with our neighbours, Lionel and Sally. They are walking through the private garden next to ours. What a lovely sighting this is. We haven’t seen them since we all went into isolation. They are very cheerful and are looking very well.

Susan continues to work on the twenty-five year old greenhouse, when, not surprisingly, the door falls apart. Peter manages to get it back together.

Josie and Wes are exhausted. They stayed up until midnight, trying to get that elusive supermarket slot. Still no joy. They are giving up. Josie decides that cleaning products can be bought on the internet. Sure enough, dishwasher gels appear the next day! Josie plants up all the remaining tomatoes. She is a star.

Susan is going to have a pleasant afternoon in the kitchen baking with ingredients supplied by Blacks. This is her most favourite activity.

Peter has received a completely incorrect document from a major corporation involved in a household project. At first he can’t understand it. It has got its facts so wrong. This sorting out takes a total of five hours including hour long holds on the phone calls to the accompaniment of Vivaldi, who he now really dislikes! Obviously, he can’t make a trip to the office in Exeter. He is completely stuffed. After two days, he manages to get hold of someone who can sort the problem. Peter’s problem is that the five hours has taken his mowing and forking time. It is vital to get the garden right in the next week. There is so much coming on in the greenhouse.

Josie has made an important decision today that we all agree with. The death toll is rising. Wes will not be able to do any more shopping. We will depend on Blacks and Riverford. The internet will supply other stuff.

Wednesday

Cal Mac take safety very seriously and very reassuringly

Here we would like to mention some really cheery stuff that you might like too. First, is the end of the news at 5 on BBC 4. Evan Davies plays music or a verse or anything that will cheer people up. He also did this during Brexit. One of our favourites is the Scottish Ferry Company Caledonian MacBraine’s safety address to passengers travelling on the ferry. There is something so stable and deeply comforting about the announcement. His playing of Peter Maxwell Davies’ “ Leaving Stromness” almost reduced us to tears. It was so beautiful.

The second favourite is the Today Programmes slot for poetry. I have not always been that keen on some of the poems, but Clive Myrie’s choice hit the spot. Clive is one of our favourite news reporters. He reported from the Ebola area. His reporting was straight to the point and quite excellent. He wanted to say how much he admired the NHS, having had a tumour removed in his past. The NHS has saved the lives of three members of this family. In all cases, it has saved the member’s lives a number of times. Clive was humble, almost quiet as he said that there was hope and, above all, there was a beauty in life itself. He chose an extract from “Endymion” Book One. by Keats which begins, “ A thing of beauty is a joy forever,”.

After the Ferry has gone. Near Stromness. A photograph from my Artfinder shop

Thursday

Josie is making the most of having a washing line in the garden. This was put up by Wes at the weekend and has proved very useful.

We continue along, happy in our gardening

Peter has a light toothache, which is not a problem and Susan will, she suspects, be at the end of a long queue for new glasses. Reading is still alright, but occasionally there is a need for an inherited magnifying glass when looking at labels! Hair cuts will just have to wait!

Becky and Peter have brought us some lovely oranges and apples.

The seed company have written to say that we may not get all of our latest order. We receive leek seed in the post. We have sent some sweet peas to friends, who can’t find any.

Friday

Bread Rolls rising…….the promise of fresh rolls for tea

Peter is baking bread for the weekend. The smell is just amazing. He is planning to drink one of Blacks beers at the end of baking.

Wes and Josie are settling into a weekend with no commitments. They are down the garden arranging garden furniture for the spring. They are planning a barbecue for tomorrow. It is lovely for them to have this unhurried time together.

Susan is keeping an eye on the greenhouse, clearing up and eyeing up a bottle of wine, bought before the big emergency.

We cannot believe it, but that is the end of week four.

 

The Photographer’s snapshots for this blog can be seen on     Dartmoor Diary Flickr Album or all his snapshots on  Flickr (follow link)           The serious stuff is on Artfinder (follow link) or via Facebook  Peter Bennett Photographs and a few left on his  Saatchi Art shop

Visit our Facebook Page at Dartmoor Diary Facebook Page and The photographer is boosting his work on Artfinder,  ( Peter Bennett on Artfinder ) or contact him directly on Peter Bennett Photos email

 

 

 

 

The Virus Diaries No 3 Friday 3rd April 2020

This Diary is brought to you by the producers of The Dartmoor Diary, which will continue to be produced once a month. We are lucky, and appreciate that others are suffering much more than us. This is purely a record of how the lives of one family is being affected.

The family consists of four adults all living together in a Dartmoor hamlet. Peter and Sue are over seventy, he has one kidney and Susan has slightly raised blood pressure and athsma.
Josie is much younger and also has athsma. Wesley is middle aged and is in good health.
Three members of this family are therefore, living in self isolation. The fourth member works in an isolating position and strips off outside and showers on his arrival home and is minimising his contact with the outside world as much as possible.

The week has been recorded day by day.

Post apocalypse sky. 7 am and not a jetliner to be seen. Normally the morning run from Heathrow to New York fills this sky with con trails

Saturday 28th March 2020

Saturday was rather a strange day. We are so used to going out for breakfast.

This was a day of answering e mails and general catching up. Susan made a lemon drizzle cake as morale must be kept up! The recipe was a bit odd, the drizzle part got muddled with the cake so the cake was short of 70grams of sugar. Not good, but nobody noticed. Even Wes, who doesn’t normally like sweet cakes, tucked in. It didn’t notice at all. Jo and Wes went for there single exercise with an almighty walk up towards Gidleigh. It was so long that Peter and Susan couldn’t have recovered!

Dear Jon and Jane, our close neighbours simply gave us some of their hen’s eggs. What a lovely thing to do. We kept them for Monday and had a delicious scrambled egg.

Beautiful eggs, and only 50 food metres

Maria, Josie’s Roman Catholic godmother, who is based in Chichester, rang and a happy hour was spent on the phone. She had tried ringing Josie, but Josie’s mobile didn’t work as she was so high on the Moor. She was eager to know how she was. Maria is the best godmother you could ever wish for. Even though Josie is now so much older, she has always been there for her. Maria is under seventy, but Tony, her husband is over seventy. He is also an asthmatic, so Maria has gone into full time “watch dog mode”. Tony is not going anywhere except to his on site work shops and that is that. When Maria worked, she was at a high level as a nurse. Keeping up to date was her big thing. She can, so myth says, like my father, who she met, and Peter’s mother with whom she enjoyed intimate medical shut door chats, look at someone, and tell you what is wrong with them before they know themselves. For years my father used to look at his father in law and tell my mother that he had Parkinson’s disease. Sadly, he was right. From that point of view, it is definitely best not to tell Maria that you’re not feeling too good. Maria is a good Roman Catholic. She listens to her priest, who is in touch every day. Their church seems to coordinate activities for the elderly etc. Maria spends much of her day helping people in any way that she can. She is not putting herself in danger, but she is definitely on the case. She shops for some people who live near by. She can give a comic, yet frightening account of what is going on in some stores. She tells of strict 2 metre apart queues with shut aisles to socially distance people. There is disinfectant everywhere, even on the trolleys, but she takes a little bag, so as not to touch them. She has found this shopping joyless and harrowing, as has our Wes. Maria is Irish, so like the Welsh, she can give a good description. There appears to be a shortage of eggs in Chichester. Goodness knows where they all are, but even she can’t find any! She tells me that this may be a myth, but it is said that someone is harbouring 500 toilet rolls. It is not known where in their house they are stored, but who knows? Maria has heard that toilet rolls are a pound each on the black market.

Sunday

Cloches. Peter is very keen on protecting his delicate vegetables

We are now becoming very vigilant with parcels. There has been much talk about them, so they are strictly handled with gloves and abandoned in the conservatory for some time. We are receiving more parcels as our shopping on line has increased considerably.

Paul, our Anglican rector, appears on line with a lovely green open air background. Very soothing.

Peter has set up a vegetable growers Whats App group, to help share the best ways of growing veg up here on the Moor. It is a highly experienced group consisting of our Peter, whose qualifications are in agriculture and engineering and who has a large amount of third world experience. Peter, our new neighbour, who has run an organic veg. box business and Paul, a retired agronomist who has run more Field Trials than most people have had hot dinners. Three very different approaches to veg gardening

Josie and Wes spend Sunday afternoon writing their wills on the template Peter has written for them.

Susan and Peter have their own home cooked frozen meal from the freezer.

We have a delightful light hearted drink with Kate and James via Video Conferencing on the internet. The sherry is finished.

Monday

Monday is such a stress filled day that it is difficult to describe. Josie, Peter and Sue are determined to have a normal day. Wes is still able to go to work.

Josie has been furloughed. Wham! Just like that. She has a very busy day, trying to get a lot done with her clients, many of whom, are very dependant on her and are quite stressed by her loss. She is exhausted. Tomorrow is her last day at work for an unknown number of months.

Having made much investigation, we find that Catherine and Riverford are now our only suppliers. Without them, we are not sure what we would do. Wes is taking a huge risk doing shopping for us. He is still coming in every night, very tired from work. The family open the back door and the shower door so that they are not contaminated. Peter, in an effort to save Wes all this shopping,
goes on the internet and finds that there are no delivery slots on offer at the major supermarkets, despite he and Josie being on the severely at risk list. No one has approached them to see how they are doing. They have just had a terrible warning about their prospects with the virus. We don’t understand why there is no help for those so far out in the countryside. They are both very philosophical about it. Josie says she feels like a walking tombstone and if no one is helping why has she been told. They are not down, they are just puzzled.

Our neighbours, hearing of the shopping dilemma, offer to get us some fruit, of which we have no supply at the moment.

The day is finally at an end when Josie and Wes quietly walk up the lane to Virginia and David”s, where they sign their wills outside on a table in plain view of a window with Virginia and David observing. Virginia and David are their witnesses.

It has been a tiring, harrowing day and Wes is so utterly exhausted that he goes to bed.

Tuesday

It is Josie’s last day at work. She is about to have the most free time that she has ever had. She has always worked.

Susan plants up more basil for more pesto.

Peter’s back up drive on his internet, literally blows up. The consequent bill is horrendous and when the new machine arrives it will have to go into isolation before it’s connected.

Peter cooks Riverford recipe for lunch. Delicious!

Wes hates not being able to help a friend set up his washing machine. He would usually go.

Wednesday

Jamie’s Versatile Vegetable Chilli……by Josie

Josie’s first day of furlough. She spends the day helping spruce the place up. The hall has shiny everything. She has cooked a lovely evening meal. On his travels, Wes has picked up extra milk in an empty Co op. He is completely exhausted again.

There is a stress fuelled row in the house, which is not surprising.

The day ends peacefully with Peter’s home baked bread and a treat. We have a friend’s homemade honey. Thank you Mick. This was just the day for that honey.

Here is the link to the Chilli recipe

Jamie Olivers Versatile Veggie Chilli Recipe

Thursday

When in Manhattan……….

Josie sorts the herb garden back into one that we can use.

Here, we can introduce our old friend, Jim the artist. We are meeting once a week on the internet.
We always used to have tea and scones in the Forge. Now, Susan has cooked 1950’s scones. They are really tiny and very like those of the period of rationing. Jim has a slice of cake made by Vincent from the Forge. Jim is set up, as you can see, in Manhattan. This is great fun, especially, as, when he stands up to make a fresh cup of tea, he is clearly still in the Little Town. It’s a good show though.

Susans tiny 1950s scones

Josie has made a sugar reduced banana cake.Wes has found no free slots at the supermarket. He is finding the shopping and coming home to his wife to possibly transmit the virus just too much.

Friday

Hoorah. The best day of the week. RIVERFORD HAVE COME. You cannot believe. There is milk. There is meat. There are eggs. There is veg. There are wonderful suggestions for recipes on the internet. THANK YOU RIVERFORD WE UNDERSTAND THAT EVERYONE AT RIVERFORD IS NEARLY AT EXHAUSTION POINT. We always shop at Riverford. We don’t care what happens. We will never shop in a supermarket again. They have not been there for us when we needed them.

There is a knock on the door. Here is a supply of clothing for Josie via the internet. What a good day!

Footnote

Could it be that yesterday’s rise in car usage is due to the supermarket slot problem? This really needs sorting. We understand that quite a lot of food is still being thrown away. Could it have been delivered by the supermarkets to people, who are isolated and really need it? Are some of these cars containing isolates, who are desperate now for food shopping?

 

The Photographer’s snapshots for this blog can be seen on     Dartmoor Diary Flickr Album or all his snapshots on  Flickr (follow link)           The serious stuff is on Artfinder (follow link) or via Facebook  Peter Bennett Photographs and a few left on his  Saatchi Art shop

Visit our Facebook Page at Dartmoor Diary Facebook Page and The photographer is boosting his work on Artfinder,  ( Peter Bennett on Artfinder ) or contact him directly on Peter Bennett Photos email

 

 

 

 

The Virus Diaries No 2 Friday 27th March 2020

 

This Diary is brought to you by the producers of The Dartmoor Diary, which will continue to be produced once a month. We are lucky, and appreciate that others are suffering much more than us. This is purely a record of how the lives of one family is being affected.

The family consists of four adults all living together in a Dartmoor hamlet. Peter and Sue are over seventy, he has one kidney and Susan has slightly raised blood pressure and athsma.
Josie is much younger and also has athsma. Wesley is middle aged and is in good health.
Three members of this family are therefore, living in self isolation. The fourth member works in an isolating position and strips off outside and showers on his arrival home and is minimising his contact with the outside world as much as possible.

The week has been recorded day by day.

FRIDAY EVENING 20th MARCH

We have learnt today that the pubs must close tonight. Wow!

There is a general feeling of frivolity in the house. The whole family are together, enjoying the thought of the weekend after a very strange week. Susan has been raiding the cooking alcohol stocks. She has found Vermouth, which is normally used in a chicken casserole and Josie has a bottle of vodka, which she really dislikes. It is decided that the combination will make a cocktail, but which one? We are all beer and wine drinkers here. The last time anyone had a cocktail was a year ago. Peter remembers the Martini, a drink that was fashionable many years ago. Wes comes up with the recipe from the internet. Susan and Josie feel very spoilt. The drink is served in the best old champagne glasses with a green olive. The girls are very happy, but they don’t think they’ll have a second one! It is very strong! The evening passes in a haze with much laughter and jolly conversation.

SATURDAY

There is a discussion on an Amazon delivery of soap, shampoo etc. Josie is going to set it up.

Josie and Peter now realise that they can’t go anywhere. Meeting anyone is obviously going to be a risk. Their neighbour has already been self isolating for a longer period.

Kindly, Becky and Peter fetch the newspaper. It is not until the paper arrives that Peter and Susan realise that it could be contaminated. There is a lot of debate about it. The paper is left in isolation for a while.

Susan reads that her niece, who lives in Derby, is in isolation with her two small children. She is finding things difficult. She is used to a lot of child based social activity. Suddenly, she is alone with the children. She appears to be exhausted, but there is nothing that can be done to help.

On a lighter note, Susan and Peter ring John, Josie’s Godfather. He is a single man of 78. His whole life revolves around chain smoking and helping with the maintenance of Hereford Cathedral. He is pleased that the Cathedral is on lock down. The opportunity to repair and add support to 100 oak chairs whilst making plenty of noise, and smoking on the Cathedral Green in his breaks is very appealing. Congregations are a nuisance as far as he is concerned. He does though have a liking for Jacobs Cream Crackers. After work, on this particular day, he fancies buying a packet. John lives in a remote part of Wales amongst a collection of seven houses. He is shocked to find that Sainsbury’s supermarket has been virtually emptied. There are no Jacobs Cream Crackers. He gathers some determination and works his way to a large and impressive old building, which contains a Co-op. He is not hopeful. He is wrong. It is like an Aladdin’s cave. The crackers are not on display, but an Assistant is happy to help “Sir,” by fetching some from the store room. John has had a perfect day. He lights up his cigarette and fires the Skoda up the mountains to his retreat. He might play his self built organ in the garage tonight. It depends on how the fancy takes him.

Susan has been working in the garden. A sweet blackbird follows her, picking up juicy worms as it goes.

There will be beans!!

SUNDAY

Another lovely day with the family. It is,however, a sunny day. Despite the Warren House Inn being boarded up and no longer in operation due to the crisis, there are loads of people up there on the Moor. Moorland people are passing the word around. We can’t even think of going up there with so many visitors about. We go for a lovely walk from our own doorstep and meet no one. It is Mother’s Day, so Susan has a lovely card, bought by Wesley as Josie can’t shop. Josie makes the best Sunday evening meal of the year.

MONDAY
Monday brought a terrible shock. Three of us have life threatening conditions. We have, therefore, isolated ourselves but none had received a letter or any notification that we were in the list of the 1.5 million people, who were Identified as extremely vulnerable.

Just as she had reached tea time, Josie came rushing down the stairs from her home office. She had been sent a text notification that she was amongst those who were in this highest category. The shock was in the way that she had been told. It was as bad as when she had to have a brain scan to investigate an earlier illness. We were used to this but, the way she was told seemed cruel! On the phone that evening to her friend, Susan broke down. It was just the shock! We could not think of any other ways in which to shield her. Wesley was already leaving his clothes outside the building and showering before he came indoors.

It was not a good day. Wes had found that one of his relatives was refusing to help him with his Granny and there was no one else. Wes decided that he would leave his Granny’s shopping with her one last time. He would say his farewells and leave her to her carers. There was nothing else he could do. There seemed to be no provision for this situation. He was sad about his wife and his Granny. We did our best to cheer him up.

Boris made a further announcement restricting more activity. Peter worked out that as Wes was a plumber, he would be able to continue working. His own bosses wife had had the same news as Josie, therefore, he was being careful not to let his workers mix with anyone. This solitary job is Wes life, so that is just as well. He cannot work from home.

TUESDAY

One early morning exercise walk, before anyone else is up and about

 

The usual bright early walk took place for Josie, Susan and Peter. Josie was well aware that her lungs had to be worked on.

Peter is fed up at getting the same news as Josie. He spends most of the day sulking over no more “face to face with his friends’. He also thought that it was unfair.

Josie went upstairs as usual. Her office was bathed in sunshine. She felt that the way she had been told about her chances of survival was crass. She carried on as usual. She wasn’t particularly bothered. She was used to bad news about her health and always defied it.

Peter had been thinking about wills for a couple of days. He spent the morning copying out a simple form of will for Josie and Wes. They spent the evening scrutinising their wills and hope to sign them at the weekend. Their friends are going to witness the wills through a window in plain sight.

WEDNESDAY

Home made bread, what a sacrifice!

Good walk, the frost lifting in the sunshine.

Home cooked food is very much to the fore. Peter is working on his bread.

Despite a forbidding notice on the door, Susan, who is now the house “shield”, is faced by a man delivering Peter’s serviced camera. He is from DPD and has to prove that he has delivered the camera. Quite rightly. Peter is doing a worried fidget in the background. Susan has to open the door, so that he camera can be placed just inside the door and be photographed, proving that he camera has been delivered.

Susan is now receiving parcels in a pair of gardening gloves, which can be washed. Both Josie and Peter are missing out on their parcels as they can’t enjoy opening them! When parcels arrive, they are like children at Christmas. Susan’s clumsy opening is driving them mad. The contents of the parcels are put Into isolation for a period determined by Josie, who has read all this up.
The highlight of the week was when Catherine, from Blacks, delivered a shop. She did it so well from a distance and the contents were so cheering.

The penny finally drops. No face to face contact for 12 weeks

THURSDAY
We were too tired to walk today. Susan threw a grump. She wanted desperately to get in the garden. She and Peter swapped roles. Peter’s bread was playing up. He was very patient. The bread went in the oven at 10.00pm, but it didn’t matter, Susan snoozed through the news.

Josie had a good day in the office. She works in the topmost room in the house and is now called Rapunzel. She leans out of the window, with her hair hanging down deliberately and calls out, like a princess locked in a castle. Her job is great. She is very sociable and it keeps her connected .

Susan digs a trench for runner beans. Josie would like her to dig another for more.

FRIDAY MORNING

The everyday tasks of countryfolk. Kindling to start the log burner, the nights are still cold.

The weekend is going to be cold, so Peter is chopping kindling. Everyday activities must go on.
Josie is in her office with the heating on. It is a sunny room, but it can be cold. She loves the company of Rebecca and Peter, who live next door. They are making a vegetable garden and she can see it coming on through the window. At five, she will have a drink and a quiz with her team on line. They will celebrate Friday.

Thank you Riverford, thank you Blacks Deli, thank you Ethical Superstore and not forgetting the Post Office and even Amazon

Riverford, who are so busy, have made a delivery. We cannot say how grateful we are to them and Catherine of Blacks Deli for literally feeding us. We could not manage without them.

BORIS HAS THE VIRUS!
MATT HANCOCK HAS THE VIRUS!

Stay closed little fruit buds there will be a frost tonight

 

 

The Photographer’s snapshots for this blog can be seen on     Dartmoor Diary Flickr Album or all his snapshots on  Flickr (follow link)           The serious stuff is on Artfinder (follow link) or via Facebook  Peter Bennett Photographs and a few left on his  Saatchi Art shop

Visit our Facebook Page at Dartmoor Diary Facebook Page and The photographer is boosting his work on Artfinder,  ( Peter Bennett on Artfinder ) or contact him directly on Peter Bennett Photos email

 

Here Comes the Sun

So you think that you’ll never see spring?

A frosty morning walk into Chagford with alert sheep ready for flight

Think Again! Make the most of what is left of this loud vibrant winter. These are sheep in the frost. Such a glorious sight on the walk to the little town. Sheep are not as dense as they are made out to be. They have got to know that the Photographer and I will give them a polite welcome to the day as we walk past. We never have any food for them, but they always call out as we pass! They are probably hand reared as are the sheep at the foot of our garden.

Comfort food to brighten up a Dartmoor winter Sunday. Pie courtesy of The Daughter

Soon we’ll all be mowing, planting seeds and catching up with all the outside work when this poor spell of weather has passed. There won’t be any time to walk to town or laze about on the Moor watching the fast changing wind as it sweeps past. We’ll have to put Heathcliffe and Cathy away on the book shelf. There won’t be time for that sort of nonsense. There won’t be time for enjoying a home cooked supper next to the fire. We’ll have to take some serious exercise, which is probably just as well. The daughter has shut herself in the kitchen and cooked up a pie beyond your dreams. What a Sunday dinner! It is served with a wondrous set of veg. The Photographer makes the annual batch of marmalade. This can be a very sticky business, but the delicious result will last well in to the following year. Breath deep and you can smell the oranges for miles.

Ah…..smell the orange cooking on the stove. Home made maramalade, there is none better. A fine example of the vital “rolling boil”

Admittedly, winter brought work with it. We lost an apple tree, which had a enormous covering of ivy. The birds would head for it every spring. They loved it. Every cloud, however, has a silver lining. This year we will be able to sit at the top of the garden without the prospect of bird poo covered chairs and we may have to buy an umbrella to keep off the searing sun.

We have had the odd day in the big garden. Before October, when the rain started, we did as much as we possibly could to clear up, but the rain always comes and you are never completely ready for the deluge. You forget what it’s like and so with this year. The first fine, but chilly day found the Assistant planting early broad beans, just on the outer limit of their planting time. Being fortunate enough to own a propagator, the seeds were exposed to a little heat. They raced away, so that they will shortly be transferred to some staging and then, wait for it, it will be tomato time. The Photographer will insist on supervising all activity to do with these. Doesn’t he often have enough tomatoes to feed most of this little community? Other seeds will follow. All vegetable growers backs will hurt and the sun will beat down relentlessly. The cry will go up for rain, but there will be none, and watering cans will be endlessly filled. We will long for this wind and this rain!

“Shout Out” for Jennifer Tribe who ran the Moretonhampstead Post Office with enormous cheer, and great entrepreneurial skill. Forced to close by the PO Counters crazy “centralisation” policy. Wish her well for an uncertain future

Sad news. In the past, when we have visited Moreton, we have loved their Post Office for all its cards, envelopes, brown paper and glories collected altogether in this one place. The Photographer took this sad picture of the Post Mistress in the week that the Post Office closed. She could not afford to go on. How much more of this will we see? Of late, with the advent of a new government, we have heard much talk of improving bus services and the internet. Lots of villages are declaring themselves to be climate friendly. Out here, in this small hamlet, this has been the laughing stock. We have no buses at all. The result of this is that we have loads of cars everywhere. They are up everyone’s drive. They dominate the central street. If you are not a toddler, which we don’t have either, you have a car. You have to get to work! How is the electricity supply meant to cope if all these cars need charging. It’s like a film from the 1920s out here. We have no public water supply, and, in some cases, no public sewage treatment. We have no gas supply, so the leading fuel is oil. Nearly everyone is burning wood to keep warm. The internet is a joke. We have no fibre just old copper or a system which doesn’t work through a tree covering. The best internet speed in our house is 11Mb/s. Some time during every wet winter a British Telecom man will appear and dig up the old road outside the old chapel. The poor man will look desperate as he tries to do something with the system. We have been to the furthest end of the wildest end of Scotland and they have a fantastic system. NEW GOVERNMENT IF YOU REALLY WANT TO CONNECT US ALL YOU HAVE GOT ONE HELL OF A JOB ON YOUR HANDS. WE ARE COPYING THIS BLOG TO OUR M.P MEL STRIDE, who was so helpful when we wrote about the rural poverty, which we encountered in Herefordshire.

Having put the world to rights, the little hamlet goes on much as ever. The woodpeckers, who live between David K and Olive and Mike’s house and who consume vast amounts of our bird food, had the most almighty fight. It was Ali v Frasier right outside our kitchen. We couldn’t move. We have no idea who won. Last week, the Assistant decided to edge up her veg. plot. If you think all that walking during the winter keeps you fit, forget it. She was in agony and so lacked any strength! The greatest of relief came from a blackbird, who sat atop the fence. Every worm that was turned up was consumed. Talk about getting ready for spring with a whole new generation! This one was going to build several palaces up its tree.

The bulbs are coming up, the dawn is becoming strident and all of nature, out there, is limbering up, so get your weight trainers out and get going. It is clearly on its way!

You like me to say it so I’ll say it again. As the late Dave Allen used to say with that wonderful glass of whisky in his hand, for all of next month, “May your God go with you!”

A Special Entry to Celebrate the Chagford Cinema Club

Pitch 15

Recently discovered archive photograph of an early attempt on the Dawn Wall of Black’s Deli. The image features the lead climber resting on the Portaledge while the Assistant attempts yet again the defining traverse of Pitch 15, in an attempt to reach a new highest point for both climbers. Meanwhile spectators drink tea below on the meadow.

 

Visit our Facebook Page at Dartmoor Diary Facebook Page and The photographer is boosting his work on Artfinder,  ( Peter Bennett on Artfinder ) or contact him directly on Peter Bennett Photos email

 

The Photographer’s snapshots for this blog can be seen on     Dartmoor Diary Flickr Album or all his snapshots on  Flickr (follow link)           The serious stuff is on Artfinder (follow link) or via Facebook  Peter Bennett Photographs and a few left on his  Saatchi Art shop

Any similarity between characters in this blog and real people, products or events is entirely co-incidental

Any similarity between “The Little Town” and Chagford is entirely deliberate, Click on this link to find out more. Visit Chagford     

and the title is from the Beatles hit

 

I Love the Rhythm of the Falling Rain

By The Photographer’s Assistant

 

It takes more than a drop of rain to spoil a good cup of tea

Today is the 13th of January. Four members of the Breakfast Club met outside Blacks before 9 a.m. this morning. It might well be that anyone else would have called this a meeting for sadists. After all, it was only last week that a less hardy soul had sat inside calling us a bunch of what effectively amounted to mad people. We were all rather proud of this and so we continued to sit in splashes of rain and what later became a 40 mile an hour wind. The meeting started with that cheery subject of recent deaths. Breakfast Club Chaplain had recently taken the funeral of a local character, whom we had all admired as an outstanding vegetable grower. Much respect was shown. Ronnie McCracken another local character has also just passed away. There’ll be a tea in his memory at The Courtyard on Feb 1st at 4 p.m. Our man from Hittisleigh had not come today, understandably, as his mother in law’s funeral had only just been held. All present agreed that he could do with a quiet time to rest. The Assistant announced that she had been rung by a friends husband to be told that her schoolfriend had died. The group pondered on her husband finding in one of her clothes drawers a list of all his irritating faults! This seemed extraordinary and there wasn’t much to say about it. The Assistant would not be travelling north to the funeral. She genuinely believed that the weather would just be too cold. That really is January! Both the Assistant’s and the Photographer’s fathers had died during earlier winter holiday seasons. If you are in the Breakfast Club, January is simply the most dangerous month of the year.

A man of many coats

It is also a dangerous time for the viability of the community. There seems to be a growing trend for some businesses to close or scale back for the winter. This is so sad for the little town. Tourist trade currently seems more important to some businesses than the town population. Of course, everyone needs a rest, and a holiday, particularly the single family businesses; but there is a great cut down on provision, which could affect the Little Town’s viability. We don’t want to suffer the fate of some Cornish villages, where most of the lights are out in winter and the few remaining inhabitants are waiting for Spring openings.

There is little point in having the most imposing building in the town for your hotel, if you close at 9:30 some nights. All hail the pubs and hotels that put on events all year for all of their customers and keep the wonderful winter social action going.

We know that we are not the only people affected by this lack of facilities in January so we have a list of wonderful traders who open no matter what month of the year it is. These are the retail heroes who keep the Little Town alive. Of course, it begins with Blacks, where Chris and Catherine carry on as usual. Andy the Butcher was open as usual very early in the morning today. The Bird Cage were in full swing and, as we left, were providing cheery drinks and smiles to all those making the most of an open cafe. The surgery was open very early in the year. It was in the surgery that, last Monday, the Assistant found the place full of patients. The staff soon got through the patients in a very cheery way. We know how lucky we are. Spar is always open and Colin was to be seen up a ladder above Bowdens, with an Assistant standing by as he carefully took the decorations down off the tree. Pam’s fruit shop once more filled the Assistant’s bag for the week and Casa had its sale on with Adam cheerily helping in the shop. If you want a really good cup of coffee etc. and you want a change, the dear old National Trust continue at Castle Drogo. You can go for a walk in the grounds for as far as you like. The Daughter and her husband walked to Drewsteignton on Saturday. This was a six mile walk. The pub was shut.They found the cafe at the castle open though and there were plenty of people warming up in there. Drogo in its turn will be shut from the 20th to the 24th for their annual clean down, but that will be that. You can count on them again in the cafe. We are lucky. There are towns all around that shut down in January and in this weather, that makes the winter loyal customers miserable. So let’s celebrate and encourage the businesses that keep going through the winter and make the Little Town a proper sustainable community.

Run or walk…..just get out there

So for a walk in the country. Take a flask and blow the cobwebs away. It is all very well for the program, “Trust Me I’m a Doctor“ to extol the virtue of the fast 30 minute walk, but this is Dartmoor!! HOW DEEP CAN THE MUD BE? It is this deep and that is on the road! There are treecreepers on the small oak trees and the display being given by the buzzards is fit for any air show. A fast walk is just not possible. There is so much to look at. The weather has been poor this year, but there is the odd gap in the rain and the sights will make your heart sing. We have those Welsh and Scottish mountains to look forward to climbing later in the year so we must establish a good fitness level. When you climb Sugar Loaf in Wales, you think that you are going to die, but the views are to die for. Living on Dartmoor can keep you so fit! You just want to get out there. Even, this morning the Assistant managed to get out there. It was a scene from Wuthering Heights. Cathy was calling Heathcliffe and he couldn’t have heard for the sound of the wind. The wind tried to sweep you up and all the animals hid under the hedges.

Mud, mud, glorious mud

Many of you will know that the Daughter and her Husband now live happily with us and we are so happy to have them here. They so love it, that they are running and walking on the Moor at every opportunity, relaxing after with a restful pair of warm slippers being worn happily in front of the fire, a hot cup of tea or a glass of wine or beer to hand. Really and truly, a restful nights sleep to follow!

Cosy feet

We would so like to thank Nick, our new neighbour, who has greatly helped in making their move a lot smoother.

Today is the 14th of January, and it is 10:30 am. pouring with rain and blowing a gale. In our little hamlet just outside the Little Town almost everyone is out and “doing”. Workers are scattered all over the South West. Oldies are walking the lanes or out in their cars “doing stuff”. What an active community we live in.

Drogo in the wind

Would whoever visits Shirley, a long standing town inhabitant, in hospital, wish her well after her recent accident and we shall be so pleased to have June from Wiltshire, back and reading the blog.

A belated and very Happy New Year to all our readers.

May the road rise before you

 

Visit our Facebook Page at Dartmoor Diary Facebook Page and The photographer is boosting his work on Artfinder,  ( Peter Bennett on Artfinder ) or contact him directly on Peter Bennett Photos email

 

The Photographer’s snapshots for this blog can be seen on     Dartmoor Diary Flickr Album or all his snapshots on  Flickr (follow link)           The serious stuff is on Artfinder (follow link) or via Facebook  Peter Bennett Photographs and a few left on his  Saatchi Art shop

Any similarity between characters in this blog and real people, products or events is entirely co-incidental

Any similarity between “The Little Town” and Chagford is entirely deliberate, Click on this link to find out more. Visit Chagford     

and the title is from the Cascades hit of 1963

The Bells are Ringing out for Christmas on the Moor

The sky was that wonderful winter colour. It was a pure watery blue. Powdery white clouds floated across the sky. Arrows of strong birds flew by the buzzards hung in the atmosphere showing all those beautiful browns as they hovered above their prey. The Assistant was tidying the asparagus border and covering it in mulch. She thought of the miracle of asparagus and how, now, you would never know what grew here. It had fled so deeply underground. She ended the day with the clearance of unproductive strawberry plants, ready for the Head Gardener to plant fruit bushes in the spring. Yes, nearly every day brought rain, but not today and you should not trample damp soil, but she was doing her best. This must not be a spring when everything needed doing at once. That was just too hard.There was something wrong with this old body, but she wasn’t sure what.

You want an appointment when!!. At our Health Centre the answer is always “yes”

The next day was another rainy day. The Assistant had rung the surgery and got an almost instant appointment. She packed a pretty Christmas tin for the Health Centre team. It had this picture with Santa driving across a lovely little town in his sleigh with his reindeer. The surgery, which is usually packed, had just a steady trickle of the poorly. The Assistant was invited in by her doctor; no, not called on a tinny old loudspeaker. She was actually collected from the waiting area by her own doctor! Her doctor had a little tree in her room. She had been decorating it when she had a minute. A civilised conversation took place. The Assistant went away with various bits of advice for her skin condition and her poor old body, which had simply been complaining about the lack of a sit down here and there. She was relieved that the condition would eventually wear itself out. What a relief that it probably would not impinge on the planting season. Contrary to reports on the news, this surgery is a cheery comforting place to visit and the staff help fight hard for the patients to receive the treatment that is due to them.

Everybody loves a happy nurse!

Away from the surgery and into the Globe to book a full Christmas dinner and arrange their visit to the cinema club. The Globe had some amazing decorations, so cheery. The Father Christmas was their favourite. All that red and tinsel. You know where you are with a bit of tinsel. Pam’s vegetable shop was next. So much lovely fresh veg. Carrots , baking potatoes and a dozen local eggs. There really is no need to go to the super market when you live here. Next week, we shall visit Andy for Christmas meat. Some of the local turkeys are supplied to Riverford for their excellent organic meat. There are hardly any food miles added to a substantial amount of local produce. On to the Forge for some light refreshment and a Christmas cuddle with Vincent. It must be said that Vincent regarded the Assistant as a small English pet and the Photographer as an engineering wonder. From time to time t he two could still not forget that wonderful summer evening when Vincent and Sara entertained them on their allotment, which was just being shaped up. Such a splendid view over the Moor had been much enjoyed and the two had rolled home in bright light and clear sky’s accompanied by dear Isaac, the cat, who waited all night to be taken home to the Little Town.

We’re not really cold in Pam’s veg shop, we are just trying this hat and quilty coat for size

Vincent….chef extraordinaire at the Forge. Sara should be here too but The Photographer managed to outfox The Nikon and get her out of focus. (Sorry Sara)

The day before the visit to the surgery, the usual Monday Morning Breakfast Club had taken place at Blacks Deli. The subject, introduced by the men, had been a philosophical one about whether everybody was actually there or not. (Existentialism says The Photographer) The Assistant quite lost track as she was hungry and enjoying her excellent bacon roll. Noel, the retired priest, was still wearing his Lawn Ranger hat. Jim, the Artist had been a highwayman and Santa Claus since they had last met. There was a discussion as to whether he should have been Father Christmas rather than Santa Claus. The Assistant glazed over and talked to John about the possibility of supper in the New Year. Who knew? After all, they might not actually exist, so supper was an irrelevance. It was agreed, however, that Jason and Ruth had been outstanding Vikings at Christmas Late Night shopping. To be honest, Christmas shopping night was a bit hazy in the Assistants mind. Two glasses of wine and an excellent fish pie at the Forge, coupled with a divine helping of mulled wine at Blacks had made the Photographer sit her in a corner while he did the shopping. She did, however, notice that Phil Fowler made an excellent job of singing solos in the town square. By now the Daughter, Son in Law and several friends had arrived and it was time for the Assistant to have a couple of pints. She felt that this was an excellent way to start Christmas as the Photographer attempted to hide her from Father Paul as he passed by. The evening ended with a good discussion on what it was to have Celtic descent, especially, Welsh, for the Assistant, Irish, for the Photographer, and Scottish, for the Son in Law, and Jenny. There was a discussion on who would be entitled to which Passport should the odd one of them not score enough points to stay in England, if the national thing become dicey after the election. Time to go home arrived, which was probably just as well. On arrival home, the Photographer downed a bottle of Butty Bach and dreamed of a lovely Christmas at home, which is what will happen.

Chaplain to The Monday Morning Breakfast Club…..a.k.a. “Start The Week”

A man of many parts…..who do you know him as?

My practical friend…….everyone should have one.

We shall light a log fire, visit church, drink a toast. Son in Law will have talked his way to a wonderful turkey. The oven will be on full tilt and the Assistant will be at her happiest. She has never cooked a Christmas dinner in her entire life. Her not cooking of a bird in which she has always been disinterested has been allowed to continue, whilst a family of special cooks cook for her. She is lucky and she knows it.

Pictured below are some of the people, who make the Little Town’s Christmas.

Chris and Katherine from Blacks must have hardly shut up shop on The Shopping Night before they had to open again the next day, yet, they continued to serve as they always do on these occasions.

Katherine and Chris, our ever wonderful hosts to the MMBC

The Forge continues to serve despite having had such a very very busy time

It’s that Assistant again…….she gets everywhere

We are lucky out here on the Moor and we know it. We have a very special community in which we all share with one another. It’s what living here is all about. It really is. No one will be alone here, at Christmas unless they want to be. There is something very special about the little town.

Afterthoughts

“Well this is a very serious matter” “Who exactly are you?” “What are you doing with that camera?” “I’m top dog you know” “and I’m not”

Visit our Facebook Page at Dartmoor Diary Facebook Page and The photographer is gradually transferring his portfolio to Saatchi Art Shop, because the site offers so many more easy options for potential customers. Try it if you will.

Peter Bennett’s Saatchiart Shop

The Photographer’s snapshots can be seen on Flickr (follow link) or the serious stuff is on Artfinder (follow link) or on his new Saatchi Art shop

Any similarity between characters in this blog and real people, products or events is entirely co-incidental

Any similarity between “The Little Town” and Chagford is entirely deliberate, Click on this link to find out more. Visit Chagford     

A Christmas Game

Bet you don’t see this very often where you live? The Christmas game is to find the two hounds in the other picture in this pack. To make it extra difficult The Photographer used too slow a shutter and the hounds are slightly blurred

 

Look at Granny Run Run

By the Photographer’s Assistant

The Photographer is standing amidst the smell of oranges, lemons and brandy. He is in control of this part of Christmas. He is making 4 puddings to a combination of recipes. There is a great deal of steam and the Assistant is being pretty useless. He is also going to make a Christmas cake to a recipe from the Guardian newspaper. He reads The Financial Times and does not approve of the Assistants love of The Guardian. Her father was a nursing sister and a shop steward. Her father’s father worked in the steel industry in the early 20th century and died of it, so the subject is not much discussed, but he will use the Guardian recipe while extolling the virtues of the FT music reviews.

The much loved Aga after the final “service” visit by Garton King

 

The Assistant is weighed down by the responsibility of clearing the house out. She is entering week two and has filled the conservatory with stuff. She is glazed over and introspective. He is very busy managing the new stove. The AGA blew up last Christmas. He is using basic engineering and a thermometer. She is impressed, but worried. Nine hours is such a long time and he seems unable to leave the stove. What if his back breaks down?

Susan! Go and fetch young Stewart and get this garden sorted before the guests arrive….

 

It was Alexa’s fault that she was now turning every cupboard in the house out. In the absence of a digital radio signal, Alexa supplied access to “ Sounds BBC 4 “. Whilst drying herself down after a chilly experience in the under heated bathroom, The Assistant hears dear old Evan Davis voicing a subject that she really hadn’t considered. It was, “What if you die?” The Assistant had spent a great deal of last winter fighting off chest infections and had triumphed. She was not into dying. “What about your family. They could be left with an incredible amount to clear up.” One could not deny that that was the case. She herself had been left with some remarkable things to clear up. As a child in Wales, she had had some training in this very matter. The Welsh family was huge. Each summer there was always a funeral. Sometimes, the funerals were so large that she and her Aunt Lisa had slept on the floor. The house was full to busting. Her Grandmother, now in her eighties was an excellent unqualified nurse. She would fetch her granddaughter when things got a bit difficult with Aunty Gertie and her chest. Various instructions about the positioning of pillows would be given out, and Aunty Gertie would be sorted and back to bed they would go. There was a great deal to do. The house and garden would have to look as grand as could be. The garden would look a total wreck and the Assistant and Stewart from next door would have to set to with huge sets of scythes and all sorts of trimming tools and they would work for days on getting to the air raid shelter at the bottom of the garden. The place would look wonderful for the funeral and this was the place for a proper celebration. She once had to dispose of a grand piano with a hammer supplied by Granny. Family pride was at stake and, like the Queen, it was vital that Granny maintained her position at the head of the family.

Aunt Liza in her WW2 role as a welder

 

The Welsh way of death was very different from the English. In England the tears were suppressed and stiff upper lips were maintained. In Wales the tears were tempered by laughter and much feasting. Being at college was a good way of avoiding these sticky proceedings. When her own children were small, the Assistant did not have anyone very much to help when her mother in law’s sister passed on. With the Photographer away with work, and her mother in law crippled with arthritis, the Assistant would pack little Josie, complete with rag doll, and mother in law, in pain, but wanting to help, into the car and set off for the flat, which,of course, only had so much rent to run. The one roomed flat with bathroom and kitchen was stuffed. There were bits of antique furniture full with reams of paper, some of which were valuable, some which weren’t. Deep in pain, mother in law waded through travelling documents and diaries. She found several music manuscripts signed by Sir Malcom Sargent, used in choral concerts. This aunt was a stalwart of the Petersfield Choir, performing in the Church and the Music Festival. Hence the music. The tiny flat contained 22 chairs, considered as the minimum needed. One for each member of the Choir. There was a load of unwanted table clothes and mats. This poor woman had become blind and the kitchen cupboards were full of piles of spilt food. The Assistant thought that a new bathroom suite would be needed too. The three workers, including poor Josie and her doll, clutching an iced bun, spent literally weeks of spare time in the flat. When a young woman, Auntie Gertie had a boyfriend. He went to WW1 and never returned.

Gertie Caplen 1918. Did some young man die with this photo in his pocket?

Now, back in the warm bedroom, the Assistant knew that she could not put Josie through that again. She and the Photographer set to with a will and the question was, “ Would Josie like to have that? The answer would be, in the end, that there would be a conservatory full of discards for recycling, re-use or disposal, and the work went on. The Photographer on his knees in the roof for two days and the Assistant sorting boxes and boxes of paper. Josie will not have a garden to clear or a grand piano to break up, or someone’s shirts to give away or, alas, anything as valuable as a manuscript signed by a famous composer. She won’t have to, in the end, put everything in black bags to go. She will just be left what is valuable to her. Among those things that are precious to her will be the blind great aunt’s exotic travel diaries from an age when travel was rare and unusual. Among the Assistant’s small collection of items kept are a picture of her Aunt Liza, who had no children of her own, and loved this little half English ragamuffin and a picture of granny, who buried 6 of her 10 children before she died aged 96. She was, though, a happy and stoic soul, who maintained her simple faith until the end.

About the Little Town. We were sad to hear of the sad death of John of the Chagford Inn. As a family, we shall never forget him, because he and Vanessa gave every ounce of energy and care that they had to give Josie and Wes a wonderful wedding reception, which after three years, has never faded in our memory. It was an occasion, which was not expensive, but was full of love and care in this, our community. Great party still talked of.

Dear John……He really knew how to lay on a party. Exactly 3 years ago

Jim, the Artist, has forsaken his shorts for heavy winter clothing with a sophisticated air. Keep up guys. We were sad to hear of the damage that was so nearly inflicted on Jenny Dooley’s horses. She is generally known as a lovely lady. This was mean. Steve Dooley has completed a large work of art, which he has now dispatched. We send greetings to Chris and Catherine at Blacks, who will be busy with Christmas. We were glad to see Colin at Bowdens wearing his long sleeve black jumper. It meant that we could officially feel cold. Castle Drogo has been busy, dressing up for a 1920s Christmas. How lovely.

A final thought. We know it’s cold, because we saw a man buying 6 boxes of fire lighters at Bowdens. Now that is worrying.

 

 

Visit our Facebook Page at Dartmoor Diary Facebook Page and The photographer is gradually transferring his portfolio to Saatchi Art Shop, because the site offers so many more easy options for potential customers. Try it if you will.

Peter Bennett’s Saatchiart Shop

The Photographer’s snapshots can be seen on Flickr (follow link) or the serious stuff is on Artfinder (follow link) or on his new Saatchi Art shop

Any similarity between characters in this blog and real people, products or events is entirely co-incidental

Any similarity between “The Little Town” and Chagford is entirely deliberate, Click on this link to find out more. Visit Chagford

The Title “Look at Granny Run Run” belongs to Ry Cooder

It might as well rain until September (Thank you Carole)

By The Photographer’s Assistant

 

Standing in Bowdens, buying fleece to cover vulnerable plants, thinking of the damp in the potting shed and its effect on what few potatoes we had managed to dig this year, it was no good kidding ourselves. In the cool of the utility room, early mature apples were lying on trays waiting to be eaten or used in crumbles. The heating was on and the rain was pouring down. Sadly, we had to admit, it was autumn, but, later in the week, it could be bright and hopeful. No! We know really!

The autumn geese are flying

 

Thinking about it, the Daughter had been right. Even the first day of September had heralded autumn. On the first day of September she had rung to say that her work phone could barely handle the number of enquiries from her clients. She had paused for a moment to see the geese fly over from the neighbouring R.S.P.B. Reserve. They were on their way to their winter quarters. She was able to drive home with very little interruption. When she arrived home, she was able to park in her usual winter spot.
In the little town, things were getting back to normal. Instead of walking into the little town to avoid the traffic, the Photographer and the Assistant were able to take the car for their shopping. Blacks and the Forge were shut for the exhausted owners to take a well deserved break. It was quiet and calm. Each evening, as the Daughter drove home there was a stream of traffic coming out of Cornwall. Eleven million people come to Devon and Cornwall on holiday since the school holidays became mandatory. We all do our best, but there are problems with this increase in traffic and people. At stages, the M5 and A30 cannot cope. We never expect the Daughter home early from Exeter on a Friday. We are nerve racked by traffic reports and grateful for her safe return. On one Friday she came past a line of stationary traffic trying to leave Cornwall. The line was so long that many drivers got out of their cars and were standing taking the air! Finally, there was a huge accident that tore the central reservation out so that the road was in disruption for two days and the lanes gridlocked for a 20 mile radius. Visitors are so welcome, but there is a lack of thought and a high cost to making them all come in a six to eight week slot. As a former teacher of older exam sitting pupils, even I think there is an insanity to all of this. How’s about staggering the holidays by region?

We have ways of stopping you parking……………

Anyway, enough of that! We will give praise to Castle Drogo, who unstintingly gave the gift of happiness to huge numbers of visitors. Nothing is too much trouble for this National Trust institution. So as not to add to the peak of the day, we have been taking an early breakfast there and a delicious breakfast and cup of coffee it is too. There are usually no cars in the car park when we arrive. By the end of our stay, the car park is filling up rapidly. The staff, meanwhile, have being making a welcoming scene for their guests, many of whom have travelled many miles to be here. If it is sunny, the sunshade umbrellas are up. There is a fresh pot of flowers on every table, all freshly watered and just lovely. There is water for the dogs and a play area for the toddlers. The toilets are spotless and the volunteers ever cheerful.

What a difference an hour makes. Part 1 0930

 

What a difference an hour makes. Part 2 1030

The Castle has been covered for some time in a shrouding, so that urgent work could be carried out. We have all been dying to see it again. Unshrouded, it is a local land mark. It is a beacon to guide yourself by and we have all missed it so much! Now, we just happened to be there, on the day that the scaffolding was carried away. We were so pleased!

Farewell to the scaffolding. Welcome back Castle Drogo

 

Better make sure that load is tied down and secure

 

In the first week of September, the hedge trimmer came out. A bonfire was lit and all of the waste in our top garden was burnt up. When the ashes are cold, they will go on the fruit garden to help nourish next year’s fruit.

While we watched the fire, we thought of a local farm camp site, where the owners were asked why farmers couldn’t delay harvest until the visitors had gone home. The tractors had been in their way! This is a true story!

There were two more signs of autumn. The goldfish owners returned and the fish went happily home. The owners left us a lovely bowl, which sits where the goldfish bowl was. A happy reminder. The garden has not got so very much variety left in it. Runner beans, spinach and winter green vegetables are mostly what there is plenty of. Lovely soft fruits have gone. There aren’t even any plums left to eat! Sadly, we found the beautiful rabbit, which we had so loved seeing all summer, dead behind the log store. Perhaps, a cat had got him at last.

There is, however, lots to look forward to. The Photographer has just lit the first fire in the fireplace where only recently the chimney sweep had stood. We shall have our usual winter ramblings to look forward to. We shall visit old friends before the snows come and so enjoy their company. The Assistant shall have a visit to her Grandmother’s land and do all that lovely Welsh shopping. Anyone for a Butty Bach? There will be winter casseroles, a Christmas cake and pudding too. The seed catalogues will be examined in detail and there is a plan for a deep bed in the vegetable plot. The two hundred trees so carefully planted by the Photographer will continue to bring such joy. Remember the Assistants study. Even she can’t get into it! The visitor’s room needs sorting out. God bless those who find winter dull. There are the walks to Drogo etc etc

You will be wondering about something that is usually mentioned. This morning we met up with Jim, the Artist for breakfast outside Blacks. He was definitely, dressed in winter clothing!! So all you gentlemen out there, get out of those shorts and dress up warm! Winter even might be here. Jim is rarely wrong!

Visit our Facebook Page at

Dartmoor Diary Facebook Page

The Photographer’s snapshots can be seen on Flickr (follow link) or the serious stuff is on Artfinder (follow link) or on his new Saatchi Art shop

Any similarity between characters in this blog and real people, products or events is entirely co-incidental

Any similarity between “The Little Town” and Chagford is entirely deliberate, Click on this link to find out more. Visit Chagford