On Hergest Ridge

This is part of the Offa's Dyke path, which leads up to Hergest Ridge, in our neighbouring sister county, Herefordshire. This is an old drover's path and it becomes beautifully broad and inviting as you proceed up and along it.

It's a nice gentle climb to the top, just right for out of condition types like ourselves and even better - a bench handily situated halfway up.

 

Where one can study the map and try to work out where the heck we are in relation to everything.

We like to know where we are in a landscape Just beyond the hills, a dim blue hump on the horizon, we spot Caer Caradoc, whose more taxing slopes we went up the other week. Now we can place ourselves. There's Shropshire, just a few miles away -

 - and there's two humped Caer Caradoc, the furthest hill we can see, keeping a watchful eye on us, in case we stray too far.

If you recognise the name 'Hergest Ridge', then you may be thinking of the Mike Oldfield album of the same title. It was written round about here, and somewhere in our packed up things I have the original vinyl, picked up second hand when I was about seventeen, so visiting the actual place was a  landmark journey for me.

We made our way to the flattened top, where the winds whistle and sheep graze quietly with ponies. Then we strolled back down hill, finding shelter behind a big gorse bush where we could eat in peace - the local cheeses we bought in Ludlow a few hours earlier - Wrekin White, Monkland and Ludlovian Cheddar. With ripe Victoria plums and water. Apart from the ciabatta (although also locally baked) it was about a traditional a picnic as we could wish for.

We ate overlooking the heart of England - which may look like a flat bit of land here, but there across are the Malvern Hills and beyond them unseen, the Cotswolds, our old stamping grounds. Back then, we would see them and imagine Herefordshire and Shropshire behind them, wondering if one day we'd be living on the other side. Border country.

Ludlow snaps

 

A much needed mini-mini-break in Ludlow, arguably the food capital of the UK. We love Ludlow. We always buy a good wodge of local bacon and sausages from our favourite butcher. As always, it was rammed with customers; there is only a small shop space inside, so buying is a bit of a 'shouting your order over the tops of someone else's head' affair.

 

Ludlow is a pleasing architectural medley, not too regimented, not too eccentric. Everywhere there is something interesting or quaint to admire, Georgian and Mediaeval styles nestling happily with Victorian and Tudor.

And you can usually glimpse the generous green hills of the surrounding Shropshire countryside from some peep hole.

Tempting alleyways and narrow streets that follow the original  Mediaeval layout of the town.

It was pleasantly odd wandering around this time, realising that we only live on the other side of the county and this time would not be making the journey back to the Cotswolds. 

 

The basket weaver who always seems to be on the same market corner, no matter what day we visit.

 

The penny whistler who has been on this corner every time we've visited was also in his usual place. He's definitely improved over the last two years.

 

Buying some local cheese for a picnic later on.

And some naughty Chelsea buns for breakfast - as we are on holiday.

Eaten soon after, overlooking an appetising  view of lovely Ludlow.

Up Caer Caradoc

 

Shall we forget about the stress and headaches of house buying? Shall we post off the last deadline and get out for some sun and air? Let's go over to one of the famous Shropshire Hills and climb up into the blue.

 

 Up Caer Caradoc, which we see on our drives out and about. From the ascent we can see towards it's smooth sloped sister, the Lawley and beyond towards Shrewsbury.

After three weeks of stuffing inside trying to meet deadlines, my calves were screaming by the time we got to the top. Oh look, there's another bit to it...

 So I found a sheltered spot to flop down in and gave Andy the camera, so that he could show me what it was like from the top. There is the Lawley again, but smaller and my favourite hill, the Wrekin - a distant blue lump in the background.

 

 Sitting in the sun, listening to the wind riffle the grasses, the faint bleating of sheep and the sharp swish of air as swallows dive low over the hillside. Finding the tiny things in a landscape of huge things. Dozing off.

Hey, wait for me Andy! 

Wait for meeee!

 

Affordable art

 'Horse Ball 1' for sale on Etsy

It's been a long time since I had any artworks for sale at roughly £25 ($39) - these are small sweeties,  4 inches squared, in 6 inch square bevel cut mounts.

TOPIARY 1  (SOLD)

  This topiary one is my personal favourite. Anything with a house in!

 

Wheelie Goose 1 (SOLD)

Although geese run a close second. The next week is going to be spent working on one of those 'proper jobs' which I'm not able to talk about yet. But which is very exciting! 

 

 Kitten 1  (SOLD)

Needle felt round up

Despite all the various shenanigans which we are putting ourselves through, work still goes on. The first thing I finished in Shropshire was a commission from one of my regular collectors  who wanted a copy of 'Kitty Blue' from my book, 'Mrs Mouse's Cupcakes'. 

She is not 100% the same as the original but as near as I could get her. I know which is which.

I'm doing a lot of repeat designs at the moment and sometimes I need to try a new design.  I have wanted to make a red squirrel for ages.

Betsy sold at once and made her way to America where she is making my friend Janet very happy, I believe.

I've also just finished several doglet orders  - Claudette, who is a copy of one of the first doglets  from my Mollie Makes pattern. (as the originals are all sold now).

Also, a larger clown version of the Mollie Makes doglets, who has gone over the border to nearby Wales.

Henri, one of the original magazine doglets was snapped up by a French lady who runs an online boutique shop.  So he has gone to his spiritual home, accompanied by a specially commissioned girl-friend, Henriette.

She composed this sweet montage of the two 'H's' on her copy of the Mollie Makes issue, many thanks for letting me use this, Savine!

Although I can't really arrange full workshops at the moment, I had a special all day one-to-one session with a lovely needle felter, Jackelien from Holland. No, she didn't come all that way just to see me, but I am flattered that she wanted to spend the day learning techniques from me in the middle of her family holiday. She bought Dutch treats in a pretty tin - I am now addicted to the liquorice chalk sweets. I've had to hide the bag from myself.  The kilner jar is not full of sweets, but little wax shapes  - it's an outdoor candle which I am hoping to light in our new back garden.

 Apart from working on finishing off techniques and fine shaping, we made funny little houses. It was a really lovely day, we talked our heads off  and by the end of it, I felt sure that I had made a new friend. (Her version of the day can be found on her blog here - lots of pictures if you don't speak Dutch, including one of me which makes me realise I have to start running again!)

Talking of little houses, we are now hopeful that we may be properly settled soon - in the precarious world of  house buying nothing is ever certain, but we are quietly hopeful. 

'Sheep May Safely Graze'

'Sheep May Safely Graze' 21" x 11"  (53cm x 28 cm)

We think we have found 'our' cottage. Second viewing is tomorrow. We dare not let ourselves love it too much (though I fear we already do) as it is right at the top of our not-yet-confirmed  mortgage and my artistic low income may be a sticking point with the Powers that Be. 

So I am painting properly again, to try to earn a few pennies towards some bricks and mortar. I have found somewhere which can scan my large artworks. I have found an affordable (genuine)  giclee prints - a Fine Art Trade Guild Accredited Printer, so I will soon be able to offer top quality prints at good prices - for instance, a large A2 sized painting printed on mould made Hahnemuhle paper for around 30 - 35 UK pounds at the stated size plus postage and packing.

The archival UV resistant inks should last for 100 plus years and every large print will come with a certificate of authenticity.  So for everyone who has emailed or commented that they would like a copy of the 'White Hare Hill' artwork - watch this space!

Comfort

 I wonder if all the lovely people who left such kind messages and sent sweet emails about our dear little Mouse will ever know just what a blessing they were, in a very dark time? Thank you hardly seems adequate, but - thank you from the bottom of my heart. Being recently moved to a strange area, there were no 'real life' friends to turn to, so every word was balm and helped me feel a little less lonely.

Although our new, temporary home isn't handy for immediate foot wandering - a busy country road runs along the edge of the barn, and it shakes when lorries and tractors thunder by - we drive out as often as we can, to get a sense of place and familiarise ourselves with the area. 

I have always found woods to be especially soothing - the mere whiff of damp leaf mould does more for me than a scented candle. And there are always treasures to find - coral fungus, baby frogs and strange stumps littering the forest floor.

A close look reveals a tiny bracken frond emerging from the old, rotting roots of the mother place. 

With all the wet weather, fungi and toadstools are already emerging. These woods are mostly conifers, making the woods acidic; perfect for stink horns. There were dozens of them in the first 'egg' form, strangely metallic and translucent.

 

 Stink horns are one of my favourite fungi, despite their smell and if you don't know what they look like after the egg stage, I dedicated an entire blog post to them once. 

 

But if you prefer the larger things in life, then on the edge of the woods there is a vast view of Shropshire from Oliver's Point.

Driving out towards the border and views across to the beautiful  Berwyn Mountains in nearby Wales.

While mourning my favourite cat,  I have conquered my 'painting block' which has lasted for about two years. This is another comfort.  The familiarity of painting has always soothed me. And tomorrow, Tuesday,  we go to look at a very promising cottage - unless there is something really wrong with it, or someone else snaffles it, we are daring to hope.