Another Sunday Experience

Last night in slumber-land went quite well and actually this morning I said that I had had a good nights sleep. Even though, there was the one clear, full colour dream, where we were invaded by these mechanical aliens, who looked like giant versions of those metal gift grabber things in the machines on the pier. So. They were everywhere and each time they operated their grabber things, they puffed out a poisonous powder they killed everything and everybody……’cept me of course, they didn’t get me, and somehow the dream as not at all scary, I suppose because I got away. Maybe that was because like in the original, War of the Worlds film, they started to die from the common cold or something equally ludicrous. I am taking it as reinforcement of the theory that I am a survivor.

It was already light when I woke and that in itself is strange. Steve had to chase me around to get ready to leave for the Sunday run. We left the car just a few minutes behind the couple that start their Sunday dog walk at the same time as we set off and we passed then just before the first gate into the woods along Monarchs Way and now there are two more people in the world who think that I am potty because they were well in earshot when passing close to the gibbet post I called, ‘Good Morning Jack’ to the un-rested ghost of our local last highwayman. I always greet him so, Jack Uperton was his name.

Then I started on the Bluebells that are, still as yet, only green shoots in the woods.

‘Come on you Blue-bees’ I shouted… ‘You can do it’….  ‘The world is waiting for you’. There is also no sign, well no sign that I have seen of the Wood Anemones that flower as a norm, just before the Bluebells. I have seen all sorts of other portents of Spring, but the Wooden Enemies as my husband calls them are hiding the delightful little heads right now.

Steve said that his legs felt a little heavy but no pain at all from yesterdays first bike ride proper, of the year.  I felt neither but did feel a little tired. We had a nice run even with all that. Not much of a wild life list in the first half of the run through the woods unless a couple of squirrels and a few pigeons get you excited.

Our barefoot running friend, who starts behind us and aims to catch us, passed us at the end of the ridge path overlooking the Saxon village of Barpham where we briefly exchanged greetings including her making yet another apology for hitting my on the arm with a paddle during the swim last evening. That was entirely my fault since I was trying to cut the corner and catch back up on the train having been dropped. The view to the right of that narrow path is pretty lovely on a good day which today was too hazy as it was last night for the full moon, though we did catch that when it first rose before it drifted up into the cloud.

There was a dead sheep by the fence where we began our descent that the other sheep had moved well away from but still kept turning to look at it strangely. We did not see a single deer over the whole route but running down beside the gallops, there was an excellent display by the Kites who sailed around drifted off and then hung in the windless air again and again. Today was another almost completely still day and the Kites we sailing on what little movement there was like a group of hang gliders.  The run was only slightly slower than last week, just 25 seconds, and that considering that it was still grossly muddy but a bit warmer. I love my Sunday run.

 

Tea and coffee was taken in Gaskyn's this morning where they have some cosy settees placed in groups. There was a man sitting behind me holding a bright grey blue eyed baby who now and again reached back unknown to the man, and grabbed my hair and laughed when I turned round to talk each time. At one time the babe offered me the little book she was holding and then dropped it on the floor as I held out my hand. I laughed with the baby and said behind the mans back, “I know that game… its called how many times can I get you to pick this up”. The man turned and said “Yes, that is exactly what the game is called, I hadn’t realised it had a name”.  A name that is as old as the hills.

We did not have cake whilst out this morning because Steve wanted to make a new snack that if you came to give it a name on the first encounter that might be called; Sploggy rhubarb and orange goat cheese drippy toast! MMMMM Yummy! No photo I’m afraid, it disappeared too quickly.