mrs nesbitt's place

4.1.07

Blowing away the Cobwebs!

I have had a really strange day and just could not get into a rhythm!
In the end I went for a walk with Elsie.
I needed to go to the bank in the local market town of Loftus....
off we went up the lane!

Interesting images!

Again as with any of the lanes, the views are stunning!

Blue House Farm

Further down the lane!

As we approached Rosecroft I saw this, thought it was lovely!

Rosecroft Woods.

There was a time when I would have gone through the woods, but not now.

You just never know!

Trees are so majestic!

I passed Colin and Hazel's bungalow.

Colin makes great bread!

Loftus Town Clock...Jon is esponsible for keeping the time correct!

The gates are so lovely!

For Libby! LOL!

Mrs Wade, the postmistress!

Two pupils from the local school where I do some supply teaching!

Karen works in the sub-post office.

and lynne works in the Co-op!

I laughed at this in the jewellers window!

The must have item of jewellery! LOL!

Turn left!

The ladies from the fruit and veg shop!

And turn up the lane again, heading for home!

Up we go!

Stunning!

Hoping to be feeling more like my old self tomorrow!

Ever had one of those days?

I am having one as we speak! So......giving myself some time to get some housework done, then it is wrap up warm and going in search of photo of the day! Will be back later! Watch this space!

3.1.07

Later than normal! But very traditional!

Enid and I went out to Malton today, first we called in to Kirbymoorside!
We were ages waiting for this elderly couple at the cash machine!
They were reading all of the information out aloud!
"Do we need a loan dear?" he asked his wife.

After a while she replied...
"Not today dear, it's market day and I need some sausages!"

I howled, so I walked away and took some photographs of the doorways...
so traditional!

The moors are never far away!

We called in at the butchers and saw the pies being made!
mmmmmmmmmm!!

They looked wonderful!

These are the pies the lady was pouring the apple sauce on!
I bought one for Jon's dinner tonight!

Talking of Traditional!

We called in here for some lunch!
It is a new place.
Enid had a bacon bun and I had the most delicious tomato soup I had ever tasted!

Isn't this lovely!

Simple but stunning!

We drove on to Malton!

This old street is absolutely amazing!

This is what I used for my picture of the day!
What a story!

The lady was sitting by the fire.

Traditional signs!

Just look at this!

Oh and a couple more doors! LOL!

More traditional crafts!

Again, a true traditional shop!

Traditional toys!

All in all a very traditional offering!
Enid and I are going out one day each week, probably a Friday so my Friday blog will always be an account of our visits....I think I will have a day assigned to different topics/themes......yes, I will go away and think about it!

2.1.07

My favourite poem! Well, tonight anyway!

Yes yes yes, my photo of the day is here!
However..................another one of my favourite photos is needing an airing.... read on!

Sue
Has done a fantastic piece of artwork with the title "The Highwayman"

This poem is one I relished to read aloud when teaching literacy!
I had all the voices and rhythms.......FANTASTIC STUFF!
By the way.....the purple moors?????
Yesssssssssssssssssss......the very ones I feature in my photographs!
The best there is......North Yorkshire!

The Highwayman

THE wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shuters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet, black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonliglt, and galloped away to the West.

He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching—
Marching—marching—
King George's men came matching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now, keep good watch!" and they kissed her.
She heard the dead man say—
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!

She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain .

Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still!

Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death.

He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.

And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding—
Riding—riding—
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard;
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

1.1.07

Update!

Two new members in our photo a day project! Sheila and Suzi and I have finally started on my writing here

January 1st 2007....These boots were made for walking, and that's just what they did!

I have posted my photo of the day here

Isn't it strange.....I logged onto Allotment lady's blog and saw her photo of the day!
Would you believe I took these photos late afternoon, yesterday!

These are my boots.
As you can see they are well-used!
I walk the dogs in my boots.
They are very comfortable!
Jon calls them bu Pochahontus boots!

So...these boots were made for walking!

These slippers were made for relaxing!

These shoes were made for partying!
And that's what we did last night!

Sigrun, congratulations on visiting near the 9000 mark.
I actually saw 9000 on the counter and figured the next person to leave a comment would be the winner, so I will e-mail Sigrun my Photo of the Day!

Now, as we are all recovering from a season of lots of food and drink I think we all need a good walk to blow away the cobwebs, so get your coats, we're off!

Up towards the neighbouring village of Moorsholm.
Came to the point in the road......right or left...we chose left!