We sat at dusk on our first night at the house, and watched the striped face of a badger appear over the rock. He snuffled around eating the nuts and bread we had scattered on the gravel, casting occasional glances at a cheeky magpie which was sharing his supper. It was not quite dark, so Pete managed to take several photographs. A short while later, a second badger appeared from the opposite direction, and was clearly from a rival sett, as the first badger scampered off into the garden. Aunt S speculated that it was a nervous female, unwilling to linger in the presence of a strange male. We watched, hoping for it to return, and then retired to our rather cold beds. Yesterday morning we were having breakfast when Mr Bates, Aunt S’s old gardener, came up to the house to do some odd jobs. We left them drinking tea on the verandah, and walked down to the village to purchase thick socks and a waterproof coat, both of which are likely to be essential over the next few days. We also took supplies of kendal mint cake and grasmere gingerbread, which we also felt would be essential.
We then set off driving, with the intention of walking at Wastwater, but heading over the Langdales we saw signs for Dungeon Ghyll, so we parked at the Old Dungeon Ghyll Hotel, pulled on our boots, and headed along the fell. First we saw Stickle Ghyll, which was very pretty and unspoilt. Then we scrambled up beside the long fall of Dungeon Ghyll Force, accompanied in the distance by a group of hard-hatted climbers who were ascending the fall itself. The climb was steep in places, and I was glad of the National Trust pathways, which make it a little easier, although I find them somewhat ugly, and – at least aesthetically – I preferred the paths when they were riddled with rocks and roots.
We could not walk all the way to Stickle Tarn, because we had only paid for two hours in the car park, and so we came back down to the hotel. I am afraid to say that I grumbled somewhat, as the sun was hot and my knees and feet did ache rather.
We ordered a lunch at the hotel, which we took outside, and were most entertained by a brave chaffinch and a whole flock of sparrows, who took scraps of food from our table.
It was too late by that time to continue on to Wastwater, so instead we went over to Skelwith Force, which for a few minutes we had all to ourselves. The waters were quite low, so the fall was not crashing as noisily as I have known it in the past.
We spent some time in the afternoon exploring the garden, which reaches up on to the fell behind the house. We found a pair of recently cut staffs of silver birch, and continued to quote Lord Of The Rings, as we have been all morning. I have had to request that P stops calling back to me, come, Gimli! as I have no wish to be a bearded dwarf. Much of the garden has been cleared, and the rhododendrons are sadly gone. The beck is all clogged up, but I could still find our old dens. We climbed down into the undergrowth from the Green Hill, to look at the new badger sett, which the gardeners have recently discovered.
Before tea, we played Crack-nell, which is an old wooden game that we brought up from the cellar. The object is to get your pieces into the centre, and to knock the other man’s out. I won at first, but then Pete developed superior tactics, and of course has strong guitar-player’s fingers.
We managed to get down to The Lamb in time for the end of the first half of the England vs Croatia match. It was most exceedingly smoky and noisy, and England won by four goals to two. I was glad to emerge from the bar into the fresh air, but we were disappointed by the badgers last night.
This morning we met the gardener’s boy, as Aunt S calls him, although he is two years older than myself (and looks more). I recall holding something of a candle for him during my six months at the village school, but his father the headmaster is personally responsible for my fear of mental arithmetic. Aunt S says that the boy remembered me, but this seems to me unlikely.
We must dash into Ambleside to purchase petrol for the lawnmower, so made haste straight after breakfast. Then it was time for all three of us to start for Kirby Lonsdale, carrying out some small errands for Aunt S in the village, on the way. I called at the florist to order a bouquet, which should be delivered tomorrow after we have left for Loweswater.
We made good time over to Kirby Lonsdale, where we met my Great Aunt and Uncle, who have brought me some antique fish knives, which I do not want. I do not care for fish, however I feel that I cannot refuse without offending the old lady. She has palmed off on me a whole bunch of old tat, including yellowed damask placemats, that I shall never use.
Still, she looked somewhat less fearsome and bloodshot than when last I saw her. They treated us to a pleasant meal in a noisy dining room, and talked mostly about being old and fat. P and I were exceedingly bored.
On leaving the Great Aunt and Uncle, we took Aunt S into Booths to shop for groceries. She has recently had a fall and cannot get about, so it is nice to be able to help her. We brought her back to Grasmere and left her at the house while we took a boat out on the lake. It is a lovely feeling to row on the lake, although the boats are not such good quality as they once were. A new man has taken over the running of them, and replaced the old wooden boats that were named after members of my family, with numbered fibreglass boats. The oars do not quite fit, and they feel light and unstable.
We rowed round to the beach on the island, although this is private property and strictly we should not venture there. There is a great deal more goose shit than there used to be.
Now we are taking tea in the drawing room and watching birds on the feeder before the window. We have seen the usual chaffinches and tits, as well as a robin, the bullfinch again, and even � briefly � a woodpecker!