After our lovely breakfast we packed up to wind our way through and out of The Lake District. The roads through this area are quite narrow and at times do not have any shoulder at all AND coaches and lorries whip around like Mini Coopers. Shawn is afraid of heights...so, it was decided that I should drive this section. My dad was the navigator. Shawn, Grandma, and the kids sat in back. And off we went!
At a large car park, we got out and had a grand time frollicking about like mountain goats. The kids and my dad raced up the hill and delighted in making echoes and throwing rocks. There was a well worn path, dotted with all sorts of evidence of wildlife: tufts of wool on branches and rocks, blobs of poo and pellet shaped poo.
Running around also gave everyone a chance to burn off some energy. I think I did a good job of driving. I only clipped the over hanging weeds a few times...knowing there was a stone wall underneath the soft greens made me a bit leery too! But I white knuckled it at 10 and 2, tapping my finger tips every so often to regain curculation of blood when my hands started to tingle.
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Unfortunately a warning light came on in the van and rather than go way off the grid, we chose a more "main" road in case of catastrophe. (In Enlgand there are "A" and "B" roads. "A" is a main road, although it may be barely paved and one lane at times.)
Since I was in charge of the driving and we were getting peckish, I turned off on a one lane drive way/road that lead to a grand old manor house that advertised "Tea".
This was someone's actual home, somewhat converted into a B&B/Tea Room! So, we had proper tea over looking the river.
As I was taking pictures of things a woman with windswept hair and a basket of laundry stopped me and said, "Make sure you get a picture of the staircase and stand here. I call this the symphony of circles." (My photo was blurry. The one below is not it.)
We went on snooping about.
And then at the end of our meal had to settle up the bill. The worker needed to go into the owner's office and that was when I realized the windswept wash woman was the owner of the manor house! She was an American from Boston but had been living here in this house with her husband for 20+ years. Um...wow!After getting back on the road, getting lost a half dozen or so times, I asked a youngish boy if he knew where the Hullerbank Farm House was. He looked at me like I had fifteen heads and grunted something to the effect of, "I fink it's down therah." Thanks. That was of no help.
On a one lane road, walled in by stone and hedges, to get around an on coming car one of you has to back up to a wide spot to squeeze by. So, when that happened, I motioned to the driver to roll down her window and asked her if she knew where Hullerbank Farm House was. She offered to escort us!!! We never would have found that spot without her help! Ah! Home! MY SSSHHHEEEEPPPP!!!!!
OMG this is so cute!!!The "fat" ewe on the far left (if I have this right) is called Fluffy. She was also to be sold because she was "gettin' too fat and soon be on her back".
We stayed here for two nights. Every morning I got up early and went for a walk to check on MY sheep. Across the road was another sheep farm. He had white faced sheep and also a few brown and polka dotted ones too.
One of MY sheep.
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During our day here we went out to explore Hadrian's Wall. Summer and me standing in front of a mural of "our empire".
Our first stop along the route was at a priory. Amazing to see just the bits that remain mixed in with stuff still in use today.
Here lies James Dacre Esq.
Who died July the 16th 1716
In the 30th year of his age
Being the last mail heir
Of the Dacre
Of Land Cost
At first when I read this I felt so sad. This is or was an area called Lanercost. This untended tomb exposed to the elements and quite shabby....in the ruined church...and HE is the end of the line...no heir. =( I read the stone several times. I stood there almost exactly 198 years to the day!!! And I spied a typo. Oh my! Now I'm even more sad. This poor fellow has to be in the ruins of his family's once great estate, no one tends to his grave, there are no walls, no ceiling and to top all that off...rest for eternity under the wrong spelling of the word male. Oh dear. I was truly truly sad for so many reasons.
And then on to Hadrian's Wall!
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Our last morning at the farm and I looked after my flock.
Yep. All fine here. But wait. Do sheep sleep on their backs? This poor thing was having a dream/nightmare and kicking her legs a bit. Hum. Interesting.
When I returned to the farm and spoke with the owners, I asked if sheep sleep on their backs. It turns out they do not!!! That poor ewe was stuck! Brian phoned the man who owned those sheep to tell him that one needed to be righted. He and Shelia went on to explain that a sheep will die in a few hours from falling over. (Which explained why they needed to sell the "fat ewe" from their farm.)
Yeah me! I saved the life of a sheep!