Letouttoplay

Life, photos but not the universe

Bolton Abbey, stamp club drama, stuff.

Barney has one or two rather difficult habits.  One is coming back late from the pub on Sunday afternoon/evening and the other (as you may have heard) is collecting stamps.

So on Sunday, he spent some hours with the secretary of the local stamp club, sorting through errors in the auction lot lists and then suddenly the sec received a phone call and had to rush off.  There was some urgency – his wife was ill and the auction lots needed to be checked immediately so Barney asked me to help finish them off.  I am so obliging – even though I’d got up early to catch misty sunny woods, I sat down with a list of incomprehensible stuff and checked it all off with him.  Then I went out and Barney went to another auction.  Later, he called me to say he was going straight to the pub as the auction went on for a long time.  And that he wouldn’t be long as the sec was coming back to collect the corrected sheets on his way home from evening visiting at the hospital.

I was a bit cross when nine o’clock came and Barney hadn’t appeared – fortunately it was a pot roast, so didn’t take any harm.  By the time Barney and the sec arrived, I had quite forgotten about being hungry and had almost caught up with Barney’s pub drinking.  And it turned out that the Sec’s wife had a heart attack and he was looking a bit despairing about getting the alterations made on the lists, because, like Barney, he’s no typist.  Well neither am I but there’s an enormous difference between their kind of not typing and mine so I offered to type the list of amendments out.  We all drank some more wine and got into a lengthy conversation about home made wines and stamps and life the etc.  Later, he went home and we ate.  (It was very nice).

Later still I did most of the typing which was really easy except that Word thought nearly all the words needed spellchecking which was to be expected (perf, umm and wmk don’t even mean much to me) but a little irritating to a slightly befuddled person.  Now I’m checking my amendments and they all seem to be ok – though it’s difficult to be sure as I’m still a little fuddled this morning and now have an enormous cold. Then the table unformatted bits of itself which was infuriating and took up most of the next several hours.  I’m getting to know the members of the stamp club one by one as they turn up to discuss important stuff with Barney and I have an uneasy feeling that I may end up feeling moved by their collective helplessness in the face of keyboards more often than I would like.*

So, more from the North.

On Mrs Middle’s birthday we went to Bolton Abbey.  It’s a fairly impressive ruin and has car parks, with cafes, at useful points around it’s huge park which runs along both sides of the River Wharfe for several miles.  So we walked one way, along a steeply wooded hillside looking down on the river occasionally and passing several very well designed play structures for children

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And Dan.

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And Mrs Middle.

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and one of those tree trunks studded with coins, one assumes , by passers by but I have no idea why they do it.  One for the boys.

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Then we got to the ‘famous’ stepping stones.  I looked after Little Middle while everyone else crossed over them, then us sensible people, crossed over the perfectly good bridge beside the stones.  To be honest, I no longer have the sense of balance nor the ability to leap accurately that is required other wise I’d have done it too.  Mrs Middle has both.

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I think Mr Middle was glad to see her safely at the other end

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We wanted to go to the Strid which was at a further end of the park so Dan and I bought Little Middle an icecream and Mr and Mrs  walked back to the car park to fetch the car.  It only took them half an hour so we just about had time to head for the car park near the Strid and set off once again into wild sloping woodlands and the Strid was worth the trek.  A marvellous bit of natural engineering.  Or something

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It was very green.

Oh and the abbey of course.  Very grey.

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Then we rushed back to the original car park to have a luscious cream tea, ten minutes before they closed for the afternoon.

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I think the birthday girl and the littlest girl were happy.

*They’re not all technically incompetent but the ones who can use a computer confidently are not the ones who want to do the donkey work.

October 8, 2013 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , | 7 Comments