Maturing

Continuing the whisky theme from my Christmas holiday. Under these frosty roofs lie hundreds of casks of whisky. These are some of the warehouses of Glenrothes distilllery. Thick stone walls, earth floors and slate roofs, and 15 years or so of unhurried maturing.
The white is all hoar frost - not a flake of snow in sight. And yes, the air was very definitely perfumed with whisky where I stopped to take this photo.

Bardon Hill and Beacon Hill

Led by me, with Barry and Gordon. Hilly, mostly good underfoot - some mud in woodland areas. Great views from Beacon Hill of course. Fine, warm, sunny afternoon. 1,161 ft of climbing. Around 13 miles including add-ons. Moving pace much better than over all pace - we did stop quite a lot, but - no way do I ever walk at 31 mph!


We - well, I, - suggested that we should try Shiela Dixon's Leicestershire’s three peaks challenge. In the event we managed two. According to our magic machines it was a twelve and a half mile walk, involving over 1 000 feet of
climbing – not huge by Yorkshire, Lake District or even Derbyshire standards,
but enough of a challenge for today.



The fact that it’s a good hour’s drive from home doesn’t help, and then I have to walk back to the car to park it in a much safer
looking layby - the one Shiela recommends in her blog - at SK458120 on the A511 between Bardon and the M1.So it was 10.20 before
we started.






Walking alongside the A 511 isn’t a bundle
of laughs, but there is at least a footway of sorts. Back towards Bardon for 200 yds or so, our footpath leaves to the right, almost opposite Forest House. With all the leaf growth this year it is not
exactly obvious. Once we find it, it’s
overgrown in places, but clearly marked – those lovely Leicestershire yellow
posts.

moat and bridge reflections

On as far as Brook farm, where we walk past
the regimentedly reverse parked cars, and then the moated Old Hall and turn left to walk close behind the house.

Love Leicestershire footpaths.

Our
path goes north east, and we turn left along the Ivanhoe Way when we meet it in
less than half a mile. We’ve been
climbing gently from the farm, and continue to do so towards Bardon Hill
Wood.

Chicken of the woods, I'm told, but
I'm not brave enough to try it

We cross a quarry road and now
climb more steeply through rocky scrub, up to the radio mast near the
summit. But where is the top?

View - avoiding the large industrial estate to our right.

We don’t find the trig point, in spite of
using a magic machine to show our altitude – we must be almost at the summit –
I don’t realize until later that there is a trig point and rocks. I’ll have to go back another time. Will Barry and Gordon accompany me??

Barry checks out the accommodation

The way down is simple – follow the road
behind the mast until we meet the quarry road,
then turn just after Kelhams Farm – there’s a diverted path clearly
marked which more or less follows the power lines. The OS map has a path marked going further to
the left, but this has been discontinued. No matter, we arrive at the road at Upper
Greenhill Farm by a slightly roundabout route.
We cross over and take the bridle way past
Charley Mill farm. Just before entering
Burrow Wood is a nature reserve with a bench – do we want to have a break? You betcha.

Well-earned break

We walk through Burrow Wood, and then take the right hand path when it forks off. This joins a small road to go past Woodleys, Charley Hall and Rock Farm. At the T-junction we turn right and go under the M1. We follow the road for almost a mile
alongside woodland, and over the crossroads at Bawdon Lodge – this was
surprisingly busy!

A little further along and at a house marked on the map as
Bawdon Cottage Farm, and on the house as Charley Chapel, a footpath goes off to the left. This leads down a little way then we begin our long gentle climb to Beacon Hill. We meet the road from Shepshed - and turn right. What a delight!

Lovely quiet road!

The road is closed to traffic for resurfacing - this is much better for us!



After a couple of hundred yards we turn left along an avenue of trees planted in memory of one of the early members of the Leicestershire Footpath Association.



The path climbs very gently - and about halfway along is a platform with a view.


We admire it briefly, then continue to the end of the avenue where we turn right. The approach to Beacon Hill from this side is impressively craggy.



None of the climbing is too severe and we are soon close to the summit.

The Old Man of the Beacon.

There's an info board about the formation of these hills - volcanic activity from around 600 million years ago and folding about 400 million years ago, then erosion.

Bardon Hill on the skyline

You got something good to eat??

After bagging the summit, we have another snack break. Is it all downhill from here?

We go down past the toilet block in the car park, then follow the path past the charcoal burner to the cross roads.

Easy walking again - no traffic today. Is this what royalty feel like? The road straight on is clear and quiet, and we turn off along the drive towards Black Hill Farm. A quick wave at the security camera, as we take the proper footpath along the drive a bit, then to the right towards Ulverscroft Lodge Farm.

We have a little difficulty finding the correct footpath here, as the signs disagree with the map. When we eventually find it we discover that it has been diverted - a sign at the start of the diversion would have been mighty helpful.

We carry on over the footbridge then up through woodland and alongside Poultney Wood, climbing steadily up to Copt Oak. It's only later that I discover this is the highest point of the M1, and a famously excellent spot for Radio Leicester's transmission mast. Almost as high as Beacon Hill. Perhaps we can count this as our third peak?





The church is an attractive building, and there are a few gravestones made of the local stone.

After this we walk through part of the village, past the former Youth Hostel, and the Copt Oak pub, then turn left and walk along a busier road over the motorway. After a short distance our path is to the right - almost hidden by vegetation again, but clearly signposted afterwards. We meet the tarmac road to some houses, and take this rather than the overgrown path, but have to negotiate a barrier to return to this when the roadway finishes. After a couple of fields a path goes off to our right and we follow it to Brook Farm and Old Hall Farm - with the moat.

Now it's just a case of retracing this morning's route for three quarters of a mile, and we're back at the car.

Evidence...

Ozzie here. I'm just chillin' - enjoying the sun while I wait for my supper. Little did I know what was happenin with the mom.
Chillin' s'more.

Picked up one of the hairy giant's toys (cause I happen to like hers better than mine) and started playin' with it.
Feels good... Then I heard a scream from inside the house. I guess ma found my pressie of this evening. A nice bird. Under the coffee table. She apparently stepped on it barefooted. Then she came out to me and found this.
The Evidence... that the peeps talk about...
What freaks I live with. Note from mom: I emitted such a bloodcurdling scream when I stepped on that bird that I think Sammie might be deaf at this point. Ozzie looked amused.Note from Sammie: The scream issuing from ma led me to believe that something had broken into the house again - like the raccoon last night that opened the giant garage door all by itself and walked in, calmly as "I own this place" and went for my food. The nerve! I woke everybody up, you better believe it. And now look at the eviedence above that simply makes my peeps crazy.

Dear Old Bag Enderby

Oh how I wish I had worn a pair ofsnazzy new boots like Jenny'swhen we went out to visit Bag Enderby. Had I done so, I would have been able to take some wonderful photographs - as it was, I had to stick to the easy, clear parts of the road. Still, next time!

Bag Enderby - isn't that a wonderful name? It is a tiny hamlet of, at the last count, 18 people. Blink and you could miss it. It is located down a small, Lincolnshire road - I'd love to call it a leafy Lincolnshire lane, but it is winter!

Mixed stone, bricks, tiles - look at the cracks!

At first sight the church was unpromising. A mix of the local greenstone, red bricks, random stone, Roman tiles, it has a squat tower and is located on a small hill. Parking is in a farmyard. The greenstone is dark green or grey in winter but changes to a mellow orange in summer, when (we hope) the sun shines.





Out in the churchyard is an old cross, which was desecrated by the Roundheads in 1643, only the base remains.

Higgledy-Piggledy Moss Covered Porch

St Margaret's is perpendicular in design, and dates to 1407. Despite the unlovely outside, my fingers tingled with excitement as we walked around and tried to find the entrance. The porch is even more higgledy-piggledy than the rest - I found the moss covered entrance irresistible. Inside the porch there is a piscine - a relic from its Catholic origins. The original door has a strange metal object attached, it was found in a field and is believed to be a shield boss dating from Saxon times.

Original 1407 door, Saxon shield boss in centre

The money to build the church was left by Albinus de Enderby in 1407. Little could he have known that his name would still be known in ... There are brasses which commemorate Thomas and Agnes Enderby who lived there in 1390.

The font is beautifully carved and is perched on two 14th century, broken tombstones.





Almost two hundred years ago Alfred Tennyson would have known this church very well - his father was the rector here, as well as at Somersby church which is about half a mile away! Alfred was later to become Alfred, Lord Tennyson, Poet Laureate.





It is a very simple little church with a wonderful atmosphere - I wasn't expecting that after the unpromising exterior!

Andrew Gadney and his wife, 2 sons and 2 daughters

The glass in the windows is plain, apart from small bits of coloured medieval glass right at the top. This glass came from Crowland Abbey, to the south.

This is an unexpectedly wonderful church which - we stopped to see merely as an hors d'eouvre to St Margaret's Church at Somersby, which is where this chap grew up...

Alfred, Lord Tennyson.





This church is a little gem which I look forward to visiting on a milder day.

St Margaret's Church, Bag Enderby

(Borrowed Image)

The Difference Between Enough and Excess

From the book From Clutter to Clarity by Nancy Twigg: Our Father's desire is for us to revel in the freedom and simplicity of enough (see Matthew 6:19-21 and I Timothy 6:6-8. To do that, we must trust his provision and learn the difference between enough and excess. We need to throw off 'everything that hinders'. The mind-set of wanting more is a hindrance because it lures us to step out of the safety and security of trusting God's provision and into the oppression of overload.

LOVE-The Greatest Thing

"I tell you the more I think, the more I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people." Vincent van Gogh
I've been thinking lately about what it means to truly love. I think the opposite of love is judgment; the bad kind that is critical, proud, and not done in order to help another person. I guess that could be called hate. It's more about tearing that person down in order to built yourself up, although I think there are many motives for being judgmental. I know sometimes I don't even realize I'm being that way until someone points it out to me.
There's a good kind of judgment that everyone takes part in every day. You decide which kind of shampoo to buy or someone performs an action that isn't good and you decide to talk to them about it. We do this thousands of times a day. We couldn't live any other way. I'm not talking about this kind but the destructive kind.
I'm watching two of my friends right now play this 'bad judgment' game. Actually, one is playing it and the other is trying to be likable to the judgmental one. It's painful to watch, because I used to be pretty judgmental myself. Not vitriolic but not kind either. I didn't like this about myself, so I started praying to God, the author of perfect love, to change this about me, and slowly over the years I've become able to love the unlovely.
It hurts me to see a friend being abused by hateful judgments against her, because I love her and don't want her to get hurt. But also because I see myself as a harsh judge and wonder how many people in my past (and probably present) I've left bleeding on the side of the road from the trainwreck that is my tongue.
I think the first time I acknowledged my judgmental attitude was when I was about 21 years old. We were newlyweds and friends with another recently married couple. We lived on the same street, went to the same church, and hung out together. But she drove me crazy with some of her mannerisms! They weren't wrong; just got on my nerves big time. I began praying that I would love her in spite of those things, and God not only did that...those things actually stopped bothering me at all or I just started finding them amusing. I never could have done that on my own.
And look at the effects of being judged in an unloving way. We all know how that makes you feel. And does it accomplish anything good? Does it bring about change for the better? No and no.
Contrast that with what love does. It draws you in and causes you to desire change; maybe not immediately but at least a crack may occur in the heart. Have you ever been around anyone that just exudes love and acceptance? I have and it draws me in like a magnet would metal. I want to be with them and I want to be like them. Only true, Christian love will change the world for the better.

Morning Walk

Here are more treasures I found on my morning walk today; all kinds and colors of old glass and even a square headed nail. It's hard looking up at the sky and trees when there's so much to find underfoot!