Pottering about. (August 7th 2006)

We went on a boat, at Windermere, not the usual car ferry either. Well, the usual car ferry but not in the car! We went across on foot as we were going looking for where they'd filmed Beatrix Potter. Io thought we'd actually meet her, she's not quite up with it yet. I tried to explain the Rene Zellweger stuff, but she still didn't get it.

Anyway, the walk was up Claife Heights. Dead woody. Loads of marvellous smells everywhere. Not very high but a great steep climbing bit at first, past an old ruin (no, not Hairyface). There were supposed to be lots of Tarns on top. But some were totally not there, dried out and vanished and some were on their way to vanishing.

We found a tree which had been overcome by the heat and was having a lie down. It was still growing and everything.

We had lunch overlooking Windermere, which was full of little boats, bobbing about.

After a bit more wandering we found some Tarns which were still wet, so we had a paddle about in one of 'em.

Io seemed to have forgotten about nearly being drowned a few days earlier in Crummock Water. She had a good old splash about. The hewmings, Hairy, Screature, Uncle Tony and Wappy Sarah were full of how this was getting close to Beatrix's favourite Tarn, but wasn't quite it yet. Io got quite excited again but when we got to Moss Eccles Tarn there was no sign of Miss Potter or her boat!

The hewmings all sat on the wall and dangled their feet into the water. They tried to get YT and Io to go for a splash but we, quite sensibly, refused. It was really deep - and Io wasn't too happy about how she could get out again, to be honest I wasn't either.

Then Hairy remembered that the local pub was serving Hawkshead Brewery beer. Well, you can guess what happened... they dragged us off for a swift drinkie or four. How does he know all this stuff about beer?

The pub turned out to be the Claife Crier bar, and they not only did beer but fud too. That weren't too bad as we got chips!! (Four lots!)

We were sitting there under the table scoffing away and Io came up with the idea that she'd found the reason that the Potter woman was called Beer Tricks. She obviously knew Hairy and his drinking habits!! I thought that was quite good for her, it showed promise.

We caught a boat back too.

Well, the same boat again.I just had to finish by pointing out that Uncle Tony's knees are nearly as knobbly as Hairyface's.

Drowning Io. (August 2nd 2006)

Sorry about this. I'm afraid it's really Hairyface in Crummock (a different part to where Wappy Sarah wanted to swim across). But it's what he's doing that's so funny. Io is not a happy bunny near water and Hairy and U. T. were trying to get her swimming as it was so warm and sunny.


Hairy carried her out and then held onto her lead so she couldn't just woosh back to the shore!


The panicky pup splashed and spluttered for quite a while, so U. T. could take the pic, then Hairy let her off the lead and she zoomed back to the bank as though a shark was on her tail.


She just wouldn't go near either Hairyface or U. T. for ages after that. So they couldn't do it again. She was convinced they were trying to drown her.


I was so chuffed I even fell for the stone fetching routine a few times just to show her what a wuss she was!



Here's a pic of the shark actually getting her!

Splashing Hewmings. (July 27th 2006)

It got reight hot in the summer. So much so, Hairyface and a group of chums from Gilcrux took us up a bump called Rannerdale Knotts. Not very high but great smells. There are some goats lurking there somewhere. We dint see any today but we have in the past.

They had a jumping across a gaping chasm contest on top! Silly devils. Hairy's at the back and Wappy Sarah at the front.

Hairy's wearing the latest in chic footwear for the fell walker - sandals. Fortunately he does it Ozzie style, without socks!

We didn't stay too long on top as Crummock looked so blue and so inviting that the hewmings almost launched themselves off the top of Rannerdale. It was another of those bum overtaking the body moments coming down.

At the lake shore everyone seemed to have a cossie on under their clothes as they stipped down to that and plunged in. We didn't! It was OK I guess but there were too many other interesting smells knocking about to go for a splash. On the next photo, Hairyface's head is the bobbing blob on the left. I'm busy telling him not to try swimming across. Wappy Sarah wanted to, but luckily everyone was able to talk her out of it. She does daft things like that - she's even a morris dancer!

It was so hot that a few days later Uncle Tony came up and we did it all again... That's the swimming bit, not Rannerdale Knotts. Io wasn't happy about it, as you'll see.

Hairy's Mate's New Pups. (June 24th 2006)

Hairy's mates, up that hill near Sheffield have Golden Retrievers.
Big, silly dogs who try to love you to death. Io thinks she's one, too which is a pain.
Anyway, their woofie had some pups and we went to see 'em.

Here's a few pics.

They are only a few days old on this one. Oh dear, Hairy took the next one. (He's still got the wrong date on the camera! I could spit!)

I don't know what they did to be put in jail! Probably for biting their mum's friend's ear (MINE!)with their needles for teeth! I was very restrained not to bite back.

Don't get all gushy. I aint having any and that's final. Too much like bloody hard work. Io went all soppy, that's just typical. She was full of how she'd be a great Mum! Hah, she'd forget to feed 'em and stuff. It'd be YT who had to train 'em. She's just too wappy. Daft dog!

We had something like this when I was a pup. I seem to remember. Although there were 12 of us. Mrs Hill painted our toenails to tell us apart. I'd quite like to have it done now but Hairyface won't do it. Cerise'd look great next to this grey coat, wunt it?

Sunny day for walking? I don't believe it! (June 3rd 2006)

Wow.

Hairyface actually took us out on a sunny day. It wasn't blowing a howler of a gale, or drizzly mizzling down on us. There was no white stuff anywhere. (Musta been some mistake.)

Naturally, he went to the tram man for a bacon butty first. We got some bacon. The tram man came out of the tram and fed us a huge load of bacon bits. He sometimes does, but this was the mostest ever he given us! He claims that Io is the cutest thing he's ever seen. Huh, I aint so sure, but if it gets us some free fud then I'm keeping schtum.

Hairy was off on a little jaunt to take some pics. So we pootled to Derwentwater the back way, not out to Friars Crag first.Oh no, I've just seen the wazzock still had the wrong date on his camera. He's a pillock! We are in the picture somewhere cos we ran right down to the waters' edge and had a paddle. You can see how sunny it was. It makes Catbells look exciting. Io thinks Catbells is exciting as it was her first fell. Hah, mine was Haystacks. Much better.

Next it was off into Great Wood. There's loads of smells in there, especially that fungy stuff. Some of it whiffs so bad you can smell it a mile off. There's usually loads of birds in there too, tweeting away. H can get dead twitchy and then he pulls out his goggles to have a closer look. He thinks he's seen a crossbill in there - I bet he wouldn't know one even if it pooped on his head!

We had a funny encounter about half way up the path through the wood, we met a family. Nowt unusual there, I grant you, but they asked Hairy if they were on the right track for Walla Crag. Now, even Io knew they were miles away from it! They'd missed the easy bit and were heading for a long detour round, not to mention bags of steep climby bits (which hewmings, with only two legs, find a bit tricky).

They went through the nice doggy routine and I gave them the 'give the starving doggie a biscuit look' which they ignored. They also ignored Hairy's advice - I mean I would usually, he can be so bloody long winded, and pedantic about stuff, but this time he was right. He told them they should follow us, as we were heading that way and, it would save them about two miles of detour and a bigger climb. They didn't want to know. Beats me why they bothered asking him! Still, that's hewmings for ya. They do really daft things.

We got to the top of Castlehead to find a whole other family there in shorts and sandals and stuff! Hairy was decidedly overdressed. Still he snapped away like a trooper avoiding the other people getting in the way. He didn't even take one of us, which is very unlike him. I think he was getting thirsty cos we headed pronto ballero down the bump and straight into the Dog and Gun.

Typical.

Here was us looking forward to a long stroll and a good splash int lake and he speeds round like nobody's business and we end up in the pub... It's just not reight. A carefully edited pic of the view from Castlehead, without people (or dogs!).

Just some cool pics of YT and her.

Aint this typical. Claife Crier, late August 2006.
Io looking cute (?) on Binsey April 2006.

Me at Crummock, Christmas Day 2006.
On top of Carrock Fell, August 2006.

The other Sca Fell! (May 31st 2006)

You need to ignore the date on this. It's Hairyface cocking up the camera use again. We went up Great Scafell on 31st May 2006! Honestly, he thinks he's a techno wiz. He aint! That there are two Scafells didn't surprise me... it seems there are two of everything up here. As though they ran out of ideas for naming stuff.



Still I should talk, I mean my name (Maia) is only one letter away from Great Aunt Gaia's name! Apparently, she was Hairy's first Weimaraner but I never met her. To Phaedy-poo she was the old Big dog. Phaedy told me lots about her. Mainly doggy stuff you wouldn't be interested in, but she was also a shark in the water. Used to jump off Derwentwater landing stages for fun! Could swim like she had gills (according to Phaedy) and was better than me anyday (also according to Phaedy!)



Huh, I bet she didn't do the cute rubbing my head on your chest trick to show you I like you. Or singing aloud when we're about to go walking, or... but I digress.



Any way it was just after Hairy's birthday and he comes out with, "I fancy a stroll up Scafell." Well, the Screature bit. She started on about how late in the day it was; how far away it was; how long it would take us to climb it; how we'd got no pack up ready... the usual stuff.



He just smiled and told her it was only about eight miles away; they could be there and back in about three hours and a few biccies and some fruit would do as a pack up.



She didn't bite this time. She just said, "Oh you mean the other one."



I'm lying on ma beanseat, ears a twitching, thinking: "The other one!!" There can't be two of 'em! No that's not fair. Last time we spent eight hours stepping over really, nasty sharp rocks which hurt my paws. It got really cold the higher we got. And there was an awful lot of high to get too. The last bit didn't have any grass on it for ages! It were like that 'purgo place' Hairy goes on about when the pub's not open and he has to wait a few minutes to oil his neck!"



He started smiling then and saying that it were Great Scafell, behind Siddaw. Well, we'd done behind Skiddaw stuff before. Really grassy. Great on ya paws. A bit like near where Hairy's mum lives. And, there'd be nobody about! On t'other one it was packed! Loads o' beardy types in serious trousers, blathering on about "The larst time I was here..." There was even some geeky kids, in loud tops, trying to boil up water for a brew! We musta spent about 25 minutes on top. eating our snap. Taking pictures, looking at the view... "That's Morecambe bay down there, Maia!" During all that time their water never boiled!



When we went back o' Skiddaw last time we only met one chap all day. And he were lost!



Faster than Hairyface in pursuitof a pint of Yates' Fever Pitch, we were there. Parked up and raring to go. It were dead sunny too. We did meet someone. A family - well a mum and three kids who'd brought a picnic and were paddling in the beck. Food radar went into overtime but the mum just ignored my pleading, please feed the starving doggy looks and the kids were too busy building a dam over the stream. (Why do they all do that?)



The top pic is of me being mean moody and magnificent in the summit hollow (I know) of Little Scafell. Hairy had an apple and gave us some dog chews. Swizz, I was hoping for chocolate - hence the M, M & M look.



Great Scafell isn't! Great I mean. It's boring. There's just nothing there. A crossroads of two paths in an area that could be an overgrown cricket pitch. Oh, and a pile of stones. There has to be a pile of stones. Don't ask me why.



Hairy said, "Right oh, we'll press on for Knott." So we did. 2o minutes later we are at a carbon copy of GSF but slightly higher and with better views. (Understatement - brillaint views of Blencathra's backside. Can I say that? )Hairyface sat on the cairn (that's posh speak for the pile of stones) and had more fruit. Guess what? We got choccie - OK it was dog choc, not hewming but still good. And.. there were wasps!! 2300 feet above sea level and a wasp found Hairyface's apple. He woulda bit it too if I'd not distracted him by chucking a stone at his feet. We hate wasps. We found a nest once. It smelt great but .... I don't want to think about it.



Back down off GSF was really, really, really steep. So steep that, if we ran our bums started to overtake our heads. Hairy kept stopping and moaning about his knees hurting. Wuss. Still, he does only have two, not four.

We went to a place called Trusmador. Sounds posh. It's a mountain pass and like somewhere you could massacre an army. From there it was a small stroll to the car at the foot of Longlands fell.


That's not it. We met Jonathan Edwards, the triple jumper!!! World record holder! He was with a kid on mountain bikes. They were obviously just setting off as they were so clean. He's got whiter hair than Hairyface. And his head seemed very wide. Huh. Hf didn't even take a photo. I woulda. He asked what we were, and for once hairy didn't say, "Dogs!"


I wasn't impressed by him. He said Io looked lovely. Huh, he may be able to jump over seventeen feet in his socks, but he doesn't appreciate a good dog!



The big un in the background is GSF.
Jonathan Edwards is just out of shot to the left of Io's bum, by about 10 minutes!! (The date's still wrong!)

Och, Aye the Noo! (May 27th 2006)

It's a little known fact that the Scots never actually say that. (Och aye...)
Actually it's probably a very well known fact. When we zoomed around the Solway to visit Burns' country we never heard anyone utter it, at all.

We'd gone on a recce to see how easy climbing Criffel would be. We see it out of our lounge window, daily, but have never been there. As the crow flies it's closer than Ambleside but of course there's a small matter of billions of gallons of salty water that's just got in the way!


Even setting off at just after eight in the morning it was still almost two hours before we pulled into the walkers' car park at the foot of this Caledonian bump. The noo!
We had a swift scent marking session and then trooped along the footpath to see if it would be do-able from hame and back in a dae.


It wouldnae. We'd need to kip over somewhere.


Still. Lots of brilliant new smells and I got Io sniffing out for haggis, which I told her was a wee sleekit beastie that lives in the mountains. It would smell, I told her, like sheep's innards left out in the sun too long. She was off on a haggis hunt everytime we stopped! He he.
(She still doesn't know!)

Southerness Point was weird. Loads of great smells on the beach. Hundreds of sea shells too. Then inland, masses of those caravan box thingies but simply nothing else there! Hairy and Screature had a fish supper - even though it was only lunch time. And off we trotted to Dalbeattie and then Kirkcudbright.

Southerness Point Light hoose!

K. was nice. Big river. Good smells. Sea whiff and fresh water whiff all mixed. We saw very few dogs. All that we did see were English!!

Zoomed round the coast past the Wickerman Festival site and on to Auchencairn. There's lovely, as they say in another country. We went scrambling over cliffs and past grand looking old hotels, with peeling white paint and ghosts in the corridors. (Sorry, I don't know where that came from - went all lyrical for a moment. Must be the Burns.)

On the cliffs we scoured the Cumbrian coastline to see if we could spot Gilcrux: we thought we did; and then could we see our hoose - we didnae!



The hewmings started to get restless then and needed a cup of teean cake. So just before Southerness they found a Wee Tea Shoppe. We were allowed to sit out and soak in the smells. Great, foreign sniffs. Io said she thought she'd caught whiff of a haggis but I said they don't live so close to the sea. She was probably smelling Scotch Mist instead. (I know, I couldn't help it. Still she now thinks there's two wonderful new smells waiting to be found over here.)





H & S decided to head back over the border, through passort control and look for some Yates'. There's a surprise.



A bit of a nothing day really. But magic all the same. Hairy says we can go back later on and climb Criffel. I'll not hold my breath.

He'd still not fixed the camera, look!

Skull found on hillside, shock! (April 28th 2006)

I found a great bone on Binsey. As you can see in the photo'

It was a sheep's skull. Sun bleached and white. Picked clean of any flesh. Lower jaw missing - often happens with sheep's skulls.

It was lying there on a rock. I assume someone had put it there as a silly joke.

It smelt of bone and sheep but in a distant, detached sort of way.

I suppose because it was detached from the rest of the sheep! (Ha ha, a joke!)

I wanted to carry it around for a while and would've if old Hairyface hadn't been around.

He stuck it on the rock again and took a picture of it.

I got in on the act. He caught me in the act!

We were out on Binsey. An after dinner stroll.

Binsey's a bit of a blip in dem bumps.

It's way north of Keswick and very quiet. There's these strange mounds on top which smell like there could've been bones there once upon a time. Io gets wobbly on top and barks at stuff which isn't there. But then she is daft at times. Even the Screature says she wouldn't like to be there at night!

This is the view looking to Great Scafell and

Knott, with Overwater in the foreground.

Apart from the bone it was a good walk. And no pubs!

Easter, but no bunnies. (April 10th 2006)

Easter was a dry, snowless time in dem bumps.

We used to get white stuff at Easter, I'm sure we did, when I was just a pup and the Big dog was Phaedy-poo. (OK her real name was Phaedra, but that's what the Screature used to call her - Phaedra didn't appreciate the babyishness of it at all, but that's hewmings for ya - no consideration for your feelings!)


Now I'm the Big dog I can't remember much snow at all, except at Crooksie's (that's Hairyface's mate with the retrievers) their house is over a thousand feet up and gets lotsa snow.


I'm blathering a bit here, aint I? Sorry.


We did a fair few things really.


Rushed round a bit of Whinlatter we don't normally do. That's the bottom end, where there are some ponds and stuff. (A bit touristy, says Hairyface, that's why we don't normally bother.)


The usual Kirkstile Inn jaunt from Crummock. We got to roast ourselves in front of the fire while Hairy stuffs his face and pours Grasmoor Gold down his neck. He didn't have a dessert though, which showed restraint.


A briliant day up Tallentire Hill. Passing the spaceship on the fell side. (Well that's what it looks like!) Also ended up in a pub that day - The Horse and Jockey at Parsonby. Where we roasted ourselves in front of the fire and Hairy stuffed his face and poured Jennings Dark Mild down his neck. It's a brilliant little locals pub, and Hairyface has turned out for their quiz team!


(Oh, in both pubs we got some chips!!)


The be all and end all was not going up Lingmell!


Hairy's mate, Uncle Tony, came up and we zoomed off to Wasdale to go up Lingmell. That's me showing Io how to look cool with Great Gable being covered in mist.



Well, what a disaster, we knew summat was afoot when we met this daft bloke with just a guide book for a map trying to find Scafell Pike. The guide book had a little pencil sketch in it and that was all. He couldn'ta found his backside with it never mind Scafell.


We watched him come right down off the Scafell path to ask us the way, we were still in the valley bottom then! The idiot then took off up the wrong side of Piers Gill, intent on Hari Kari.


It was Piers Gill which did for us.


I am ashamed to say that I wussed out, big time. Only about hundred metres from the summit and I couldn't get up this sheer rock face. At all! Ever! It was a giant step for man and a bl**dy suicidal one for dogkind!


Hairyface tried putting me on the lead and pulling me up the face. As if that would work!


He then tried going up first and calling me. No way, Jose. I wasn't going up there. There was nothing for my claws to catch hold of! Uncle Tony suggested carrying me but that meant they didn't have any free hands to use the hand holds with and Hairyface nearly fell and almost dropped me. It only needed someone to suggest stuffing me in a rucksack and hands would have been bitten! Luckily, they were too sensible for that idea.


We tried various canine climbing configurations for about half an hour before they had to admit defeat and turn round.


I just couldn't do it.


It was simply a wall. About thirty foot high. Some scrambling for the hewmings and away. BUT a four foot long dog can't stretch as far as six foot hewmings. Hairy got really scared at one point, but not the usual "pooh the pants" type scared, he was scared for me - thinking I might fall down Piers Gill. I've never smelled it before and I was right touched as he was frightened that I might hurt myself. I don't think I'd've been so silly as to plummet down the gill, honest!


I felt so bad when they gave up, knowing it was my fault, especially for Uncle Tony. He doesn't get up dem bumps much and likes a big stroll with Hairyface when he's here.


You could smell the disappointment pouring off him. Hairy wasn't too bothered really. He's like that - pragmatic I think they call it. Io was all of a dither too. They hadn't tried with her at all, reasoning that as the Big dog, if they worked out a way to get me over the rock face, then they could leave me up there, above the rock face, being sensible while they fetched Io. Didn't happen.


They plodded back down Wasdale, past the little church and went to... guess where? Yup, the pub. Wasdale Inn. In an effort to console themselves, they tried the entire range of Wasdale Brewery beers (five different ones) and didn't like any of 'em.

A bad bay at Lingmell was had by all.


Still, they did give us most of their sangers because they had a hot meal at the pub, so we were quite content.


And, afterwards, according to U.T. the Yates beer was lovely - the sixth on the bar and one they'd been saving as usually it's not kept well. (It's brewed just down the road from Gilcrux at West Newton - which meant we could go to the brewery tap for a tasting later in the week. And we did.)


Hairy says we'll do Lingmell from the otherside next time. No nasty climbs for YT.

What's on the Pics: Whinlatter ponds with two rather attractive Weimaraners.
Tallentire Hill looking towards Gilcrux with Scotland in the distance.
Me in Wasdale as the King of The Castle.
& finally, Io and me on a bridge. Lingmell is sort of to the right of Io's bum and, on that scale, about five inches away. Who says dogs can't give directions?

Shepherd's Crag (March 18th 2006)

Well. Would you believe it?
We get up and there's more white stuff. Hairyface says, "Right after we've dropped Screature off at Higham Hall. Well go round Derwentwater for a change."
There won't be any white stuff that low down. What's he playing at?
So, we drive to Higham, past all these great views of white stuff on top o' the bumps and we get to walk round Derwentwater? Whoopie doo!
Actually it weren't too bad. Parked up by that big theatre place. Where the caravan theatre used to be. And off through the woods.
Trail hounds on the scent. Rescue dogs looking for missing hewmings. OK... me and her trying to find a squirrel to scare. (We didn't!)
It was a Saturday, so there were quite a few hewmings about. Unusual that, Hairy tends to go where they aren't. But little did I know his cunning plan.
The views were really good. Dead clear and all the bumps were iced over. Not too much smell wise. I guess frost locked 'em all in somehow.

Io had a trembler on Ashness landing stage. She thought Hairy was going to throw her in. He does sometimes (don't know why, perhaps he's evil!) but I told her it was too cold. He wouldn't do that today. I was right too. But she wouldn't come out on the wood bit.
Eventually Hairy got her out for a pic by bribing her with a bit of choccy. Bribing! I mean, he never did that with me when I was a pup. Still I got a bit too so that's OK.
He strides off then like a man on a mission. I know about that cos often I'm a dog on a mission.
I told Io, "Oh ho, we're off to a pub."
But we weren't. The sneaksvillain had found out that Shepherd's Crag cafe opens on Sats and Suns in winter. He was off for teean cake!

Not only did he he have teean cake he had ice cream on it too. Ice cream! I know. Completely cracked, aint he?
Anyway. The cake was so big he couldn't eat it all, so we got a dob of choccy cake each. Pretty nice it was too.
Then instead of a walk back round t'Lake he got he the ferry back to Keswick. The ferry!
It was packed with grockle types who had just boated round, not even walked. You could tell by their smell.

Back in Keswick, guess where we went?
Yup. The Dog and Gun!
He must have a seat with his name on!

Pics:

1: Funny stone - are they all like that inside?

2: Looking like a Big Dog at Keswick.

3: The ginormous teean cake!!! (Some of which we ett!)

Mum's the word. (March 6th 2006)

We don't allus go to them big bumps. Sometimes we end up in Oughtibridge, near Sheffield, visiting Hairyface's Mums.
It's great there. She keeps her house so hot we have to lie on the tiles in the kitchen to cool down. Always bags of stuff to eat too. And we see our retriever mates at Hairyface's friend's house. There's seven of 'em and a bit overwhelming but they are OK. Their house is great, right high up a hill and full of doggy smells. There's never any food lurking though, as it get snaffled pronto by the pack.
There's even a cat, Whizz, who's the boss! You don't mess with Whizz if you know what's good for ya. You get your nose swiped! It hurts! A bit like our cat Djyphphi, although cos she's only got three legs her bossing about bit doesn't always work. When she tries to nose swipe Io, she usually falls over! I'm glad there aren't seven of us! I'd never get Hairyface's attention.
H's mum lives near to the Peak District, you can walk to it straight from her back door! We did it lots and found more white stuff. Not too much, but enough for Hairy to make snowballs for Io to catch. (Daft dog-she just eats 'em) Hairyface had a go at sledging on this long orange bag thing he keeps in his rucksack. Looked like he was being a big kid to me. Io tried to jump on to the bag as he went whizzing past but couldn't. Ha ha.
We got really muddy every day and had a really messy time. I think I like Oughtibridge.
Some pics: You can see how hairy Hairyface is on this one.

That's not his real hair sticking up, it's a hat! Screature calls it his "care in the community hat". I don't get it.
Io was posing in the woods near Bradfield. She looks dead posh, dunt she?

Guess where we went after the pics? Yup, a pub. The Nag's Head at Loxley.
Hairyface says they do the best beer around. Bradfield Brewery. Well, he should know, he pours enough down his neck! We like the Nag's cos Hairy's mum always brings us a bit of her dinner out, as a treat like.
Hairyface says stuff like "Well, it were meat and tattie pie. You couldn't bring that out." When he's squirming about not bringing us owt.
He's tight like that. Sometimes.

Here we go then... (Feb 22nd 2006)

After all that Chrimbo stuff, it went quiet for a bit at the weekends. Can't do owt int week as they're off working. That's what they say, anyway.
A month of wet and windy weather and a fire to keep from going out (that's my job - official fire guard - Hairyface told me) meant we stayed put and did nowt much. Hairyface went up Smithy's Fell, a coupla times, as usual, but the only real leg stretch was through Brundholme Woods and up Latrigg in Feb.

It were right warm in woods but bl**dy perishing on top o' Latrigg. No white stuff though. Mind you there were lots and lots of it on Skiddaw and them other big bumps - but he wouldn't go up.
Hairyface didn't snap away like a loony either, he dint even take his gloves off.
We ended up in the Dog and Gun. It's nice in there but I dint see any dogs (or guns....)
Hairyface tried some of the new Derwent Brewery Beer. It washed his steak and ale pie down a treat. (He said.)

All that after a huge bacon butty, first thing ,from the tram man in Keswick car park. (He's a nice man, he likes us - as he gives us bits of bacon fat everytime he sees us - which seems to be about once a month on average.)

I could get used to predictable.

Oh whoops, we skipped a bit! (January 2006)

It's 2007!!
Wowzer.
Oh heck, and other such statements expressing surprise and disbelief. I don't believe it!
Seems like I've not put paw to key for yonks! Must rectify that situation pronto ballero.

It's not that we aint done stuff, or I aint got owt to write about, or (even) I've got writer's block, it's just... you know, other things get in the way. And as a dog I haven't got a watch so how do I know how much time's passed, eh?

So in order to show willing, like here some pics to whet the whatsit... appetite.


First pic is Me and Io at Whinlatter in March.
They've put in some good ponds for paddling - she went all of a dither! Thought she were gonna get thrown in. Daft dog!

Next is us at Derwentwater, Hairyface wanted teean cake from Shepherd's Crag cafe. It was huge (The cake that was!). He even took a photo of it... don't worry I won't! (Or maybe later on.) She's all of a dither on this one too. cos she thought he was gonna throw her in. Daft dog!










Third un is at Hairyface's mum's, this time last year! See, we do get white stuff every year! She was all of a dither here cos her paws had started to collect snow in the fur underneath 'em and were getting cold. She's lucky she's got fur under her paws. It'd be dead useful would that. Daft dog!

All t'words'll be written between now and end of February, so I can catch up with everything.

So don't look at dates on posts cos they'll be wrong.

Dates'll be somewhere in each post. Honest. Oh and watch out for Hairyface's dodgy camera use. He managed to date stamp some photo's with totally the wrong dates. Daft dog! (I know he's not, but it keeps the artistic flow going, dunt it?)

See ya.