Hand - floor - armour

As a child I was never much into the game of charades....  perhaps it was the thought of Lionel Bleurgh, Una Stubbs and their "jobbing" luvvie friends cavorting merrily on-screen with their secret handshake Da Vinci code style clues.....  i.e. They had a series of repeated actions that you would never find in any other game of charades, like when they touch their nose and point to the person who said the correct word that they had been miming to suggest that they had got it right.....  Twaddle of the highest calibre, and SO overly camp!

Anyhow......

I  DID say I was never much into it... but that doesn't mean we never played it.....

For one thing, as a child, how are you supposed to know if, let's say for instance, Lord of the Rings is a TV show, a film, a book, a play or a song or indeed any combination of the above!  I bet Lionel and Una never had to argue that there had never been a TV series of Lord of the Flies.......  ridiculous concept then.

I only have two memories (and they may well be clues as to why we didn't play it much).....

When someone tried to mime the hit TV show "Panorama" we managed to arrive unconvincingly at "hand-floor-armour" and I think the game was over shortly thereafter.....

Another game of equal success left us with a very firm suggestion that "Emu-gin soldiers" was actually a book and a film, only to be let down by the final answer of "Virgin Soldiers" - Again.... a decent "mimer" could really have given us kids something to think about with that one!!

And all this tomfoolery and shennanigoats leads me to the following......

Whilst in the Lake District recently, I took some photographs - I posted a link to this flickr set yesterday.... but today I've added something very special to that set......

A selection of hand-floor-armours!

wooo - OOO - ooo

Ok the ghost-posting has stopped - I'm home again!

Spent a feverish few days in the Lake District.

Snow on the hill tops.... warm sunshine..... rucksack.... t-shirt..... sweating.... freezing.....  a recipe for man flu if ever there was one and now I'm in a right old tangle!

I love it in the Lakes....  there's always something new to see.... somewhere new to visit..... a new hill to walk up.... and a whole range of chance and fortune with regards to what the weather will do.

It's been lovely weather as it happens.  The very second we sat down at a cafe for our first cup o' tea in the lakes, the heavens opened.... it hailed, it rained..... and it blew for an hour or so.... it was NOT a good omen, but as it turned out that was the first and last of the bad stuff.

The snowy hill tops gradually receded during our stay and we were treated to glorious spring-like displays with sumptuous green and golden hues contrasting with blue skies and fluffy white clouds.

Well, of course I've taken a few photos and we've done a "little " walk......

Langdale Pikes - A paltry 4.7 miles with a whopping 2439 feet of ascent - and conversely a knee shattering equal descent!!

A full flickr set is here!

Agitation.

This weather is driving me nuts....  one minute it's pouring down, the next minute the sun is shining, the wind is blowing icy cold....  I can't cope.

Last September, for my birthday, we took a trip to the Lake District and took on the challenge of the mighty Old Man of Coniston via a litte-known track - which, under normal circumstances, may have been an interesting day out.....

On the particular day in question the weather was bad.... just awful.... It was raining and foggy and wholly unsuitable to walking, but I'd planned it and double planned it.... it was my bloody birthday after all and it would take more than a bit of weather to stop me from taking it on....

As it turned out, it was not the best option for that day.... clothes, rucksacks, navigational equipment, all wet, soaked, waterlogged.... less than useful.  We DID actually get a bit lost.... I DID lose my temper..... Dawn NEARLY cried.....  we did make it to the top of the Old Man and curtailed the walk by returning immediately down the better trodden "tourist" path.... a miserable experience without even a decent summit view to show for it.

I can honestly say.... despite full waterproofing of every possible measure - I have never been wetter in my life!

And so, given the option to plan another walk in the lakes in the immediate future, I'm naturally wary as to what the hell this weather system is likely to throw at us.... do I plan a simple valley floor walk or just plan a full-scale expedition.... do I plan several and opt for the most suitable on the day (planning more means they are planned less well of course) - I think I've picked a nice walk but it DOES involve a graded scramble and I'm not overly confident that my Frankenstein walking boots are suitable for rock-hopping especially if the "slabs" are likely to be wet.... oh decisions!!

I always keep in mind that the Lake District is not called the Lake District for no reason, and that all those lakes are not there by accident.  There ARE no accidents!

Here's a link to the scramble I want to tackle - Jack's Rake!

The shelter at the top of the Old Man!

I could....

... go on, and on, and on about my weekend walk in Keswick. I won't. Here are a few pictures to whet your appetite. Hopefully, one day, you'll get to experience for yourselves, the feeling of joy that came to me atop Catbells.

The weather was harsh. Friday it was absolutely pissing down with rain. Saturday, a window of unbroken sunshine (during which time we managed the walk). Sunday pissing down rain again. The Lake District is of course, so called, because of the copious quantities of water contained therein. We mustn't grumble.


Driving to Keswick. Treacherous conditions. Friday and it was raining all the way on the three hour journey to the wettest part of the world. It didn't look like we were going to get much walking done.


Saturday morning. The sun came out and dried up all the rain with the exception of the really big puddles. Oh, wait, those are THE lakes!! Walking from Keswick towards Catbells. Roughly three miles or so along a gently undulating woodland approach to the foot of this hill.


Catbells begins to loom. This moody photo of Catbells begins to show that this little "family" hill might not be quite so innocuous as first imagined. The hill is made up of two peaks, the first of which is in the foreground, and the second, higher peak is just behind, visible to the left.


A proud moment. I was unsure as to whether anyone might consider the prospect of lugging up a hill with me to be remotely enjoyable or rewarding. I think at first sight of it, Dawn felt the same!! I think we were both surprised at how rewarding it really was. The views were astonishing. Looking in the distance to Skiddaw on the left; Blencathra on the right; Keswick and Dawn in the middle.


Back at the bottom. A delightful cheesy self-timered moment. There are VERY few photographs of Dawn and myself together. I set the timer on a bench which was dedicated to a chap from Coventry.... apparently "He spent the happiest hours of his life in these hills". I think a few of ours may be too.

I know that all the photographs that could possibly be taken have been taken, and have been done so on much better equipment than I had at my disposal. They have been taken in better conditions, with better lighting, and no doubt with better exposures and shutter priorities than my photographs. If you want to go and see more, then look here. These are MY photographs, and they are a memory of a walk up a hill.

A birthday celebration in advance of my thirty ninth year, and one which I am privileged to have shared with Dawn. Thanks darling.