As it’s Easter, I’ve gone up north to spend time with in-laws. After hectic Easter egg hunts with great nephews and nieces, SiL and BiL invited me to their static near Pooley Bridge, en route four days in Willma in the Lakes. Everywhere was daffodils. Wordsworth would have had a heart attack. And I felt privileged to visit the lambing shed on the farm, and chat to William (the farmer) about the season. In one corner was a space with all the orphans, and spare lambs from litters of three or even four, that were being hand reared. ‘They’ve got plenty of company’ he said.

William’s assessment of the Quiet Site was “He’s worked hard to modernise it, done a lot of work, moved away from statics and gone for pods and hobbit holes. Lots of green stuff as well, which I’m not so sure about but there you go”. Me, I like the environmental stuff. I also like the bar and the pizza oven; and especially the chief receptionist,Peggy. She’s a Long haired Jack Russell Terrier, and quite quiet after a day on the fells. (A post on Facebook soon after showed her in the process of walking all the Wainwrights.)

Shared a table in the bar with a younger couple, who were in the process of converting his work van into a camper, and were quite keen to explore what I knew. They seem to be making a good job of things from their pictures and had done an impressive amount of research.

Yesterday I took a trip into Keswick. This was partly to explore the intricacies of temporary pack ups; partly because I’d promised myself a new pair of walking boots, that were a good fit for my diabetic feet. (Medical people keep saying, ‘Look after your feet; don’t get any cuts or grazes because Nasty Things happen!) Suitably terrified of Nasty Things, I’ve now got a lovely, if pricy, pair of Meindl boots. These are now crusted with mud. In the evening went on a two mile hike, mostly on tracks, but also across a meadow, studiously ignoring the sign that said ‘This path can get muddy! Consider diverting by the road!’ As I’d just come down the road, and having my trusty boots to protect me from Nasty Things, I proceeded downhill, through the gate and over the stile, over the stream, and A over T on my backside. Cumbrian soil takes on the texture of axle grease when wet; this is most of the time here. It also sticks to jeans and jackets very well.

The fire in the site bar was useful to dry the mud patches on my jeans. Today has turned drizzly, so more of a domestic day. I’ve sorted out the wardrobe/glory hole/misc storage cupboard a bit. Then other little bits – I’m sure Percy the Portapotti needs emptying. Then rest. Apart from cleaning muddy boots.