St Geoge's Day 2012

I spent much of this morning clearing out a cupboard and sorting the contents aswell as managing to get laundry on the line - which dried despite a forcast of rain!

After lunch, letter writing, something my readers know I love. As with all my letters, well the personal type - not the ones to the bank you know... I added quick little illustrations here and there.

The heading quite naturally illustrated St George riding out in search of dragons to slay. Happy St George's Day, to those who appreciate such things.

The weather quite often features in my heading,
Todays weather, shall we say, has been quite changeable.
But of course, it is April.

I live in suburbia, but would love someday to live out in the countryside with walks such as this on my doorstep. I do so hate the feel of pavements under my feet, far prefering a bouncy meadowy tread, or leaping rock to rock up a mountainside. Hmmmmmm - time to stop dreaming, and back to planet earth.

Looking accross my lawn last week, I noticed how well my dandelions were doing, thinking maybe not so much appreciated by neighbours. So out I went to spray them. Still looking fit and healthy mid week they got the same treatment. They had not withered by Friday, which was when I noticed I had mixed up the spray bottles! Not WEEDKILLER written on this label, this bottle was for feeding roses, and was quite liked by dandelions too!

Today they look somewhat less healthy as I too corrective action.

The Old Bedford Camper Van

From as early as I can remember our family owned an old Camper Van. It was a green Bedford with an expanding roof to give more headroom when the vehicle was at rest.

Two benches ran the length of each side at the back, the seats lifting to reveal valuable storage space. No seat belts in those days, so, you would usually find something to hold on to...

Up, below the ceiling,  2 stretcher like beds pulled out from the sides, hammock like canvas attached to both the wall and a wooden pole. More than once I would sleep up there as we travelled along windy country roads.

We used to 'camp out' on a heath, or by a stream. When it was dry we would abandon the van sleeping out under the stars. I cannot remember ever thinking the ground was uncomfortable.

Early mornings, exploring, picking blackberries, blueberries and anything else we knew to be edible. Usually even before breakfast we would have had our fill.

Cooking was done on a parafin filled primus, we crouched on rocks or logs - or if we were lucky, a camping stool. Cupping our hands round malamine mugs of steaming coffee or hot chocolate the warmth would seep through into our bodies. My mug was light blue with years of tanning inside.

The sunshine would blaze down for ever and ever, beaches, bird hides, walking, windmills, messing about on boats - playing games.

A world of fantastical memories...

Sunrise with a pen...