Almost anyone who visits Harrogate considers that taking morning coffee or afternoon tea at Betty’s is part of the deal. This iconic part of the town has been here since 1919, and has the reputation of being thoroughly civilised, with the highest standards. Whatever you choose to eat or drink will be delicious, and elegantly served. But it’ll cost you.
Something else that could cost you is the egg that forms a traditional part of its display every Easter. It weighs in at over 5 kg. but could be yours for £375. You can read all about it here.
November was for the most part mild (and rainy. And windy. And unpleasant). Until the very last week. This shot from the bedroom window yesterday pointed out fairly forcibly that winter has arrived.
I popped into Masham on Friday afternoon, and found they were already pretty much prepared for this weekend’s annual Sheep Fair. More of this soon, when I’ve downloaded yesterday’s camera photos from this Must-Visit event. Friday’s phone photo offers a preview.
Townie Toddler has gone back to Spain. The house suddenly seems unwontedly calm and quiet. Rather dull really. This is probably because the two old fogies who live here have no remaining energy – for a day or two at least.
Townie Toddler’s mum wanted her daughter to spend time being a child of the countryside – spending time with its animals, plants and wide open spaces. So off we went on Saturday to Borrowby Show. Horses from shire horses to the tiniest of ponies, sheep, dogs and small animals were all Being displayed to best advantage. Oddly, the only cattle were two charming Jersey calves. One of the set pieces in the afternoon was of The Hunt. Definitely NOT our thing. But Anaïs enjoyed the chance to meet the docile and well-behaved beagles who later tore round the show ring in pursuit of – luckily – a less than realistic hare, who doubtless smelt right.
Here’s our day:
Then the next day, on our way to the airport, it was Meanwood Valley Urban Farm. It was somewhere we often went when we lived in Leeds, and the children were smaller. We loved it then. Now it’s re-invented itself. It’s larger. It has peaceful walks where you can lose yourself in dense copses and apparently distant views. It has all the farmyard animals you’d expect. Yet it’s within walking distance of Leeds City Centre. It has a vegi-box scheme. A bike workshop. It works with volunteers, those with learning disabilities, disengaged young people, and is a welcoming and environmentally focussed part of its local community. It also has a really great café. We spoke to staff and volunteers who talked with pride and enthusiasm about this special place. Almost worth moving back to Leeds for. It was a wonderful finish to Anaïs’ and Emily’s English break.
We don’t know. In the village, we have ponds on either side of the road, so why bother? I suspect they enjoy having every car, motorbike and lorry grind to a halt, allowing a small and patient queue of traffic to form in both directions. Sadly, I’ve always been just a little too far away to get a photo that properly represents the tailback.
Practising road-crossing skills on a footpath.
Our geese are less than popular here. Because of them, our mallard population’s efforts to breed come to nothing. So far this year, no duckling has survived longer than two days. I’m more hopeful for the moorhens.
A solitary baby moorhen.
The pavements are thick with goose droppings and hard to dodge, especially if you’re a toddler. The geese have spread from their traditional home down the road at Lightwater Valley, where there’s still room for them. On our smaller village ponds, they’ve chased away any of the quite large variety of ducks who used at least to call in for a while.
They’re hissy, protective parents.
Looking around the area – generally, it seems that geese – generally – are out for World Domination. They’re tough enough not to be predated, and are fierce unfriendly neighbours. Does it look that way where you are ?
I’m getting in early for Brian’s Last on the Card. Just to make sure I don’t cheat and take any more photos this month, I’ll leave my phone behind, and not take my camera with me when I go out.
It’s spring. It must be. Wild garlic has – almost overnight – started rampaging through the woodlands near our house. A light tang of garlic pervades the air. And I go foraging. This is the season for:
Wild garlic and potato soup
Wild garlic pesto
Shredded fine and tossed at the last moment into scrambled egg.
Shredded and tossed into risotto at the last moment
Have you any favourite recipes?
And have you got a secret piece of ancient woodland where ransoms – the other name for wild garlic – flourish? If so, you’re probably as lucky as me, because wild garlic is often quickly followed by bluebells.
I took my feature photo yesterday, so it qualifies for Brian’s Last on the Card. Accompanying text is rather frowned upon. Tough. This is my post, and I’ll write if I want to.
A lovely walk with friends: up hills, down dales, along two rivers – the Burn and the Ure – and finally, through woodland. Storm Otto had got here first. Look what was across the path.
A bright, cold, breezy day at Fountains Abbey. My last photo of the month is the feature photo: it suddenly went all dark and mysterious, just for a few moments. Before – and after – that, it was all sunshine and snowdrops.
Lockdown in 2020 taught us to value the tiny slivers of the unexpected in our necessarily limited ‘Daily Exercise’. Here’s yesterday’s unexpected: a cluster of tiny mushrooms in autumn-leaf red, cheerfully growing in the middle of the village cricket pitch. I don’t know what they are. Do you?
They’re multi-tasking mushrooms, because they’re here for Becky’s Walking Squares, as well as for Brian’s Last on the Card for October. Brian insists that we don’t edit our photos, but if I need a square photo, I’ll just have to make a subtle clip, top and bottom. I might get away with it.
From Pyrenees to Pennines 
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