Happy Birthday Dad

December 11, 2013December 11, 2013 / Dee / 32 Comments

Thanks as ever to Rochelle for guiding us towards another challenge and to Adam for his great photo this week.

Today would have been my father’s 90^th birthday. Due to the date, he has been in and out of my mind all day, when I saw the prompt this week, I knew I had to write about him and so I crave your indulgence.

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

Happy Birthday Dad

Some weekends he would take off on his motorbike, heading for the Lake District and the hills he had roamed since boyhood. He knew the places untouched by tourism, and would lose himself in the majestic beauty of the scenery; whatever worries he took with him, vanished into the clean, fresh, air.

After the accident, his motorbike was sold. He was 58 and my mother judged him too old to be in charge of such a powerful machine.

He sulked.

He died at 67; we scattered his ashes into the wind on Scafell Pike.

I’m sure I heard him laughing.

I wrote more about my father here, I still miss him. https://40again.com/2010/06/20/thinking-about-my-father-today/

A long weekend at Updown Cottage

September 28, 2010September 28, 2010 / Dee / 2 Comments

We had talked with friends for ages about going away on a long weekend break for my husband’s birthday; first it was going to be in a log cabin in the Lake District, then we discussed a weekend in Cornwall – always a favourite, then a weekend in Paris became The One, but as the weeks went by nothing was arranged. Then I saw Updown Cottage and was hooked. I made an executive decision, the cottage was available, so I booked it!

Almost at the top of Gold Hill in Shaftesbury, Dorset, with absolutely superb views from practically every window, we all fell in love with it straight away. The fact that we had seen it loads of times, but never knew where it was, only added to the enjoyment. OK I’ll explain

Do you remember the Hovis ad on TV in the 70’s? If you do, you probably thought, like me, that the little baker’s boy was pushing his bicycle up a steep hill in Yorkshire, when in fact he was struggling to the top of Gold Hill with his basket full of bread.

The cottage has been beautifully renovated, with all available space utilised so well that you have everything you need, including a baby grand piano! The kitchen has all you need to cook to your hearts’ content, but if you don’t feel like cooking, you can order a meal and a chef will come to you! Wonderful idea.

Shaftesbury, an ancient hill town and the “Shaston” of Thomas Hardy’s novels, is just at the top of the hill. There’s lots to do and see in the surrounding area, just don’t forget your camera as the views are stunning. I lost count of the “oohs” and ahhs”.

Jane and Simon, the owners, make sure you have a warm welcome, not least with a basket of goodies from Turnbull’s delicatessen to tempt you. Turnbull’s is only a short walk away, make sure you pay them a visit as they also have a cafe selling their own cakes and pastries, the apple cake is to die for!!

If like us, you have never visited Dorset before, start with Shaftesbury and a stay at Updown Cottage, you won’t regret it

Views of Gold Hill and Blackmore Vale (Updown Cottage is the one with the shutters)

Now you can watch the Hovis ad again – http://youtu.be/CFLBvLxLJMI

Ballooning over Bath

August 14, 2010August 18, 2010 / Dee / 3 Comments

I admit it, I love to visit Bath! It is a beautiful Georgian city, with buildings of mellow stone with wide windows; home to the Roman baths, Sally Lunn buns and Jane Austen heroines and, though I have walked around most of it, I have never ever seen it from the air! So, for a recent “significant” birthday, this was where I set off on my birthday balloon flight with Virgin.

We arrived mid afternoon and while my husband watched, I joined my fellow balloonists as we went through the safety procedures and completed our forms. Next, we helped lay out the balloon on the ground, marvelling at the size of it, then, when all was ready, I clambered into the basket and assumed my crouching position as instructed, so that when the basket was righted, I would be sitting nicely in my place.

Eventually when the balloon was inflated and we had the final all clear from air traffic control at nearby Bristol airport, with a few controlled blasts on the burners, we slowly lifted skyward. Up, up until we were level with the tops of the trees in the park; then up again till we caught the breeze and started to drift ever so slowlyover the city.

Looking down was a strange experience. There was no noise, no whoosh of air, but then we were hardly moving and I suddenly remembered there were no engines either! The pilot was superb, handing out champagne once we were high enough for him to be free to do so, pointing out the sights below, The Circus, the famous Royal Crescent etc etc. He told us of other flights and how he worked out where to land. He told us about the recovery team that were following below us and lots of other anecdotes.

The time passed slowly as we drifted on, I looked down as a startled deer broke cover and ran across an open meadow to the safety of the trees on the far side. I watched horses running round a field, kicking and arching their backs as they frolicked about; I saw people washing their cars who waved to us as we went by, some running in for their cameras to capture the moment. Then, as the sun started to disappear, the pilot starting looking for a landing spot. We found that it was a bit of a hit and miss affair, as you never know where the wind will take you and the pilot had to have permission from the owner to land in their field.

Finally, after lots of calls between the pilot and ground support, he found a suitable place to land. I looked down and saw a group of people gathered round a bonfire in a field behind a farm building, having a BBQ. They waved to us very excitedly and motioned for the pilot to land.

He found a spot and put the balloon down as though he were placing a cup on a saucer. Perfect. The basket stayed upright as we landed, was dragged for a few feet across the long grass, before coming to a complete stop. When we were allowed, we all clambered out, chatting away about what we had seen and how we felt and what an amzing experience it had been. As my husband had been quite clever and followed behind the support team, meandering through the country lanes following the balloon, I didn’t have to make the journey back to the start point with the others, I could just get in the car and head home. Which is what I did, clutching my flight certificate. It was a brilliant experience, one that I would recommend to anyone, even people like me who don’t like heights!