Tag Archives: memorial

Books, Blue John and Bakewell Pudding

I had a bad night last night, waking up in the early hours with a pain in the elbow. I couldn’t lie on my back and I couldn’t lie on my side, and, most irritatingly, I couldn’t work out what I’d done to cause the problem.

Eventually I dropped off, but I slept a disturbed sleep and kept dreaming about having a painful elbow. I’m not sure what this signifies in the lore of the meaning of dreams, but suspect it might mean I have a pain in the elbow.

Finally I got up and started preparing for the big day out. We had to drop a prescription off at the surgery first, then set off for Derbyshire. We’ve been a few times recently, but we like it, and we wanted to get out rather than frittering the day away. That’s what normally happens if we stay at home – a few errands here, a few chores there and suddenly the day has gone. I’m an expert at wasting time, so you can believe me on this subject.

We stopped on the way to take a few views, including the tower of the Crich Memorial.

 

Apart from being a memorial to the dead of the Sherwood Foresters, the hill has been the scene of Roman settlement, an Armada beacon and an 1813 steam locomotive experiment. Today the village of Crich houses a Tramway Museum.

In the years leading up to 2002, Rolls Royce used the quarry at the back of the hill for dumping low level radioactive waste. The words “low level” aren’t much comfort in this context.

Florence Nightingale lived in the village of Lea, which is round the back of the memorial, so it’s been quite a busy place in historical terms.

Our main visit was to Bakewell, where I photographed the padlock bridge again, toured charity shops (the Air Ambulance shop is probably the pick of the bunch – much better than the one at Carsington). I bought some interesting books, which will be reviewed later and we looked at traditional Derbyshire Blue John jewellery in shop windows. It seems to be making a comeback.

I found a rotting tree stump covered in fungus near the car park, a Julia-sized jumper in the Edinburgh Woollen Mill and a Bakewell Pudding in a tea room.

 

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Bakewell Pudding with ice cream. It didn’t need the ice cream, but they insisted.

The pudding was excellent.

I also took a few other photos, including on of a dog’s footprint in cement. I bet that was a popular dog.

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Dog’s footprint, immortalised in cement at Bakewell

After that we went home, photographing a sunset on the way and buying white gloss paint  for a project in the Mencap Garden.

The Nottingham Oilfield

Yes, that’s right – we had an oilfield. We haven’t had one for a while, of course, but I can distinctly remember seeing the nodding donkeys in fields as we drove past in the 1960s. They’ve been looking at starting up again but I’m not sure what’s happening about that.

It was all based at Duke’s Wood, a quiet patch of woodland near the village of Eakring. Apart from the oilfield museum (which was shut when I visited), the wood is a nature reserve, though there wasn’t a lot of wildlife about on a blustery Sunday morning.

I managed an unimpressive  picture of a Meadow Brown, a dragonfly (possibly a Brown Hawker but it was a bit too quick for me), a couple of those white moths in the grass and a frog (which was dead, and thus slow enough for me to photograph).

There are several nodding donkeys in the woods and a statue and plaque in memory of the American oilmen who came across to help during the war. It produced 3.5 million barrels of oil during the war, which was handy, as it couldn’t be sunk by U Boats.

The oilmen were billeted with the monks at Kelham Hall, and one of them, Herman Douthit, fell from a derrick and was killed.

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Yesterday once more

Once again, I’m a day behind, so I will do two days in one.

It was the bread group yesterday and we had a bit of a sad one as we broke in the middle to plant a tree in memory of one of the group who died recently. It’s in the area where we sit to drink tea in the summer, so we’ll think of him regularly and in years to come we’ll also pick the apples off the tree.

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This is one of those times when I’m not really sure what to say as I’m not a great one for displays of emotion. The sun shone, we read a poem and the birds sang. It was as good as it could be when you consider the reason for the gathering.

Back in the kitchen we made a simple wholemeal loaf. There’s a comfort in gathering to make bread, and as one of the members said, we’ve had births and marriages in the group, and now a death, so we’re just like a family. Well, better than  a family really, as none of them ever raid my fridge or hog the bathroom.

As I locked up I walked out of the front and surprised two red-legged partridges dust bathing in the middle of the yard. It really must be getting sunny for them to do that.

 

Friday started well with a big flock of fieldfares on the way down the lane and a good sighting of a group of finches that included half a dozen reed buntings (first sighting of the year for them). There were rooks on the sheep field and a single cock pheasant standing in the middle, looking like he owned the place.

We then had a group of 12 kids come out from the city. They come three times a year and they are always a good group as they are brought out as a reward for good behaviour and their hard work in ecological matters. It’s also a lot easier to have a good cooking session when you can get round the kitchen properly.

You also feel that you are actually teaching them something as most of our groups are from local schools and they know quite a lot about food and farming.

The best pizza was the owl, though they all seemed to taste good, judging from the way they laid into them at lunch. We haven’t had olives for a while (I’ve been feeling tight) but they do make a difference to pizza designs. I must make a note of that for future reference.

The bread is excellent, by the way. We ate some as soon as I got home, spread with the home made damson jam. I’ll put the recipe on the recipe page later.