Friday, 26 August 2016

A white cow, & wellies in the mist

The thing I've never really appreciated about buildings before now is just how flat they are. That's the kind of thought that comes to you when sleeping on a slight angle in the back of a van. Not that I would change it for anything, not when it's just the rain on the roof, and something else I can't quite place (maybe a couple of sheep pulling an all-nighter). I drove in my pyjamas for 7 minutes, and took 6 minutes back again in the morning for coffee and breakfast. I wouldn't usually bother with that little bit of haste, but my friend Emma was coming to visit and I wanted to be vaguely awake. We first met, and last saw each other, in the Jordanian desert two years ago. Eskdale (after all the rain) is just about as different as you can get, and I suppose the two of us have changed in different ways almost as much. But you know what, after changes upon changes we become closer to ourselves, and friendship, kindness, and courage become stronger than before. Emma is one of the kindest, most gutsiest women I have ever met, and I'm proud to call her my friend. She was a little star struck though when she met Fiona - she said to me afterwards that she just kept thinking, "oh my word, you're the legendary Fiona from the blog!" 

After a lovely day of walking and chatting (mostly chatting) we said our goodbyes. I then made my way to Whitehaven to what I thought would be my first football training session there. However, such was the wonderful communication, it turned out that the team had already left to play an away match and therefore training wasn't on. It was a little bit frustrating, but I got chatting to a few people before hitting the bright lights of the Tesco superstore aisles (bought some pita bread for 8p - quelle barge), and then sat out on the harbour wall watching a most beautiful sunset. The only thing that bothered me slightly was that I couldn't decide if it was the Isle of Man, or southern Scotland that I could see in the distance. 

I didn't drive all the way home, but parked my van up at Miterdale forest for the night. I'd never been there before, and it's quite something to arrive in the pitch black and wake up in the morning to a complete surprise as to what you will see. And it really was a surprise - I was woken by a white cow sticking its whole head and neck through the open side-door of my van. Although, that was somewhat less perplexing than the previous morning's discovery - I opened the back doors to find a neatly lined-up pair of wellies in the mist. They weren't mine, and there definitely wasn't anyone else around (that I could see).  I checked the size, but they were too big. Quelle dommage. 

1 comment:

  1. This is one of my latest favourites, this entry!! I love all the talk about the rains! and changes, etc. I always hope (deep down), no matter how much you may shift-about, that you will never become anything or anyone who would rather leave me behind in life. We are so very far apart and have likely never conversed so little as we do these days --- but as I was continuing to finally finish your chapter in my second book today, I thought to myself just how much I miss you and hope that we never drift apart completely. The thought alone breaks my heart. LOVE! - Cheshire

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