Come away with the raggle taggle gypsy-o
Jake has posted some rich autumn colour in his animation for the challenge this week
Here is my entry for autumn
But I don’t think that summer is over yet
There are plenty more of these guys for a start!
Fig leaf or Malabar gourds (Cucurbita Ficifolia Bouche) grown at Rosemoor from seeds planted in May this year.
I’ve posted about Rosemoor before here when I visited in winter for the sculpture exhibition. Being a Royal Horticultural Society garden, it is absolutely beautiful all year round and in late summer they have a ‘hot garden’ with a real wow factor, that my photos don’t really capture. It will give you an idea though and who knows maybe one day you will visit. 
As always click for a bigger view and I’ll be back again soon with some more of the garden.
Every September on the second Tuesday of the month perhaps the most famous of all the country fairs takes place at Widecombe, on Dartmoor. It began more than 150 years ago as a market but has grown to become a showcase for all the best of what the area has to offer. As well as ponies, cattle and sheep, there are events like terrier racing, bale tossing and tug of war. It is well known for the song Widecombe Fair,
Tom Pearce, Tom Pearce, lend me your grey mare,
All along, down along, out along lee
For I want to go to Widecombe fair
With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney
Peter Davey, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawk
Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.
And when shall I see again my grey mare?
All along, down along, out along lee.
By Friday soon, or Saturday noon,
With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney
Peter Davey, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawk
Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all
Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.
Then Friday came and Saturday noon
All along down along out along lee
But Tom Pearse’s old mare have not trotted home
With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney
Peter Davey, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawk
Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all
Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all
So Tom Pearse he got up to the top of the hill
All along down along out along lee
And he seed his old mare down a’ making her will
With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney
Peter Davey, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawk
Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all
Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all
So Tom Pearce’s old mare her took sick and died
All along down along out along lee
And Tom he sat down on a stone and he cried
With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney
Peter Davey, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawk
Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all
Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all
But this isn’t the end of this shocking affair
All along down along out along lee
Nor though they be dead of the horrid career
With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney
Peter Davey, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawk
Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all
Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all
When the wind whistles cold on the moor of a night
All along down along out along lee
Tom Pearse’s old mare doth appear ghastly white
With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney
Peter Davey, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawk
Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all
Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all
And all the long night he heard skirling and groans
All along down along out along lee
From Tom Pearse’s old mare and a rattling of bones
With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney
Peter Davey, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawk
Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all
Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all
You may know the tune? The church at Widecombe, St Pancras, is known as the cathedral of the moor and I found this lovely ‘Old Grey Mare’ model.
The fair will be this Tuesday coming, still time for you to make it!
My friend and I have a habit of popping to the coast straight from work when we can and as we may not have many sunny evenings left this year we made the most of it yesterday. If you have followed my blog for a while, you may remember a post about the Exe Estuary , My city, Exeter, lies 8 miles from the coast, with Exmouth to the east and Dawlish to the west. Traditionally if you grew up in Exeter on the west of the Exe your beach was Dawlish and east of the Exe your beach was Exmouth. This goes back to the days when few families had cars and everyone piled on to the trains. I’m an Exmouth girl!
It’s difficult to explain the magic of Exmouth and I often wonder how tourists see it. It’s possibly a little jaded and worn around the edges, a bucket and spade beach with lots of ice cream stalls and chippies. There is a funny little paddle boat pond and a cafe made from an old railway carriage that were there when I was tiny and haven’t changed a bit. Magical it is though and last night it was fish and chips and ice cream, if it isn’t broke then don’t fix it.
There’s always something to see down there and here are some pics from last night.
Two of these canoes went out quite a distance last night.
There is quite a narrow channel and the tide was just in far enough to cover one of the tricky sandbanks. 
Paddle boarding has become really popular, I don’t know how this water walking lady steered her way through the little kayaks.
It was a lovely evening for a walk, the prom is a couple of miles long.Once we left the sand we left the chill of the sea breeze. In the distance is Dawlish Warren across the estuary.
A hopeful fisherman on the breakwater. To the left the tide is closing in on the sandstone rock pools.
The Tudor Rose is a colourful, bucket of a a boat that sails along the Jurassic coast and up the river as far as the Turf Lock where the canal ends. It offers bird watching cruises and parties with live music all year round.
Not everyone plays in the water!
The Tudor Rose is heading back and we had walked off our fish and chips. Time to head to the Grove, a seafront pub with a lovely view from the balcony and a Pimms! I hope you like what I’ve shown you of Exmouth, it’s very dear to my heart.
As some of you may know I am a crafter and I regularly go to country shows and craft fairs with my friend to sell our work. One of the things that makes it special is talking to people I wouldn’t usually get to meet.
And so I met Yuli, a gentle lady part of whose heritage is Norwegian, she touched my heart. She works with wool, creating the most unusual pieces that are functional and decorative. She began as a weaver in the 1990’s, but now makes felt. She lives right in the heart of Devon and her wool is sourced locally, from Umberleigh, a flock of Lleyn Welsh sheep and Hatherleigh, a Devon Close Wool flock, to keep the wool miles down. Yuli feels that it is important to encourage the growth of sheep farming and believes in sustainability.
Yuli has her felt dyed by a friend who uses only natural plant dyes. The soft but intense red comes from the roots of Madder, or of Lady’s bedstraw. When researching Lady’s Bedstraw I came upon an interesting coincidence, in Norse mythology, Frigg was the goddess of married women, she helped women in childbirth, and Lady’s Bedstraw was used as a sedative that they called Frigg’s grass. A nice link to Yuli’s cultural history.
The other plant dyes used are Weld, which makes yellow, as does onion skin although the latter is not as colour fast. Indigo is used for beautiful blues as it has been for generations of blue jeans and by the nomadic Tuareg of the Sahara.
Her first felted pieces were hats and the off garment but her range has grown in several directions. I bought a bird token that hangs on a wool strand. She also makes horses, and uses both as decoration for tuffetts – yes just as little Miss Muffett sat on, only Yuli’s are each individual layered mats that give you a soft, comforting place to sit on a chair or even damp grass. Tea cosies, lovely little cushion rolls, hot water bottle covers, oven gloves and wall hangings to dream of, all have recurring motifs from nature.
Yuli has worked with schoolchildren, showing them the history of wool, textiles and dyeing, as well as hands on creating of beautiful art work. It was her own childhood experience that led to her most unusual and stunning creations, felt coffins. She experienced bereavement in her early years that had a profound effect on her and believes that death is dealt with badly in the West. The enduring impact of her loss led her to make her first shroud. I was taken aback when she told me but it quickly made sense, after all ordinary people would have been laid to rest in simple fabric shrouds. She told me that in 17th century Britain an act of parliament stated that woollen shrouds should be used, to help develop the woollen trade.
I have always hated the idea that I might be buried in the ground in a wooden box with brass handles taking a beautiful tree to do so. I had a vague idea of a sleeping bag liner or a cardboard box instead. But how comforting to be wrapped in soft felted wool from local sheep and returned to the earth. Yuli calls them Leaf Cocoons and they are carried on a strong wooden frame. This makes far more sense to me than a polished box.
Yuli’s website is here, visit, enjoy her wonderful work. I was so impressed and I’d like to hear what you think. Thank you, meeting you was special Yuli and I hope to see you again.
Jake is walking out of the woods in one of his animations this week and the other has an eagle catching a fish, all very clever. I have a simple photo of the Teign estuary here in Devon, looking across towards Shaldon on a beautiful clear day. Please click to zoom!
Lots more entries here, http://jakesprinters.wordpress.com/2012/08/25/sunday-post-from-a-distance/
It’s Jake Day! and the theme is black and white. I like black and white but generally not when I try it. My all time favourite photographer, the late James Ravilious, worked in black and white. He was a local man, here is a link to some of his photos. http://www.jamesravilious.com/gallery.asp he captured everyday life in a period of great change.
My photo started life in colour and I quite like the change because of the different textures, including the sky. 
Hop over to http://jakesprinters.wordpress.com/2012/08/18/sunday-post-black-white/ for some more interpretations.
Ooh, WordPress has just told me that this is my 300th post!
And I have to add this photo for Jo Bryant!
Otherwise known as Lucid Gypsy rambling.
Last evening I went out with two of my closest friends. It’s a monthly event, we take turns driving, so that in theory two of us can have a couple of drinks, but actually we don’t drink much alcohol at all, it’s more about the chat and something to eat in a country pub. Two of us live about four miles apart and the other one lives fifteen miles away out in the sticks, and has done for around ten years. Jackie, the friend who lives nearest to me drove last night and sadly she doesn’t have the best sense of direction. Despite having been to Buckerell some 70 or 80 times she needs directions, but really its one straight main road, the A30, and then four miles up a narrow winding lane. We had a great evening with lots of fun, silliness and too many peas. After dropping Sonja home, we headed back down the lane, gabbling away and after a couple of – turn left – straight up – yes take the slip road, we were safely back on the A30 with twelve miles to go. This is the point where I stop thinking about giving directions and ask instead about her planned weekend in Spain. Mistake.
‘Is this the right way, I don’t recognise it?’
I sit bolt upright, ‘Um no this is the Exmouth road, you’d better turn around and head back to the roundabout, take the slip road back again.’
‘Is this the way?’
I should mention that if I’m driving I wear glasses, without them, in the dark I can’t see well enough to drive in unlit areas. ‘Um, I don’t know but it’s the right general direction, I think it said Rockbeare . . . yep this is the old road, Rockbeare Straights, we came this way once before.’
We drive about five miles. Road works, road ahead closed. We slow down, the road is empty except for the guys resurfacing, and Jackie sees the sign for Sowton Village.
‘Oh that way is okay we can get to Frog Lane from there and then Clyst St Mary’ she said.
‘Sowton is a dead end, I’ve walked across the cow fields to Clyst St Mary but there’s no road.’
‘Yeah there is, there must be’ she was adamant.
‘All right go for it,’ we drive through a silent village, its 11.30 by now and Jackie heads confidently towards a no through road sign. ‘That’s the way to the fields, bear right and try that, but I don’t know where it leads. The single track becomes a grassy track then meets a fence. We can see the lights of the motorway two miles from home just ahead, buts there’s no way through. A difficult fifteen point turn and we head back the lane, to the road workers who give us directions, complex ones that would work if I could read the signs.But we think we get it, and realise that another car who also asked the way, is convinced that we know where we are and is following us. Turn right at the pub they said, then double back towards the Daisy Mount junction, well it might have been the pub but it was all closed up and it was too late to take the turning. I started to get my bearings though; we were heading back the old road that led to the airport. Jackie agreed and took over again, this was her territory, just a couple of miles cross country from her house.
‘Aylesbeare, that’s it just up here.’ I didn’t think you needed to go to Aylesbeare to get to the parallel Sidmouth road but I left her to it. And we drive quickly with the other car in pursuit, and no sign of life around for a couple more miles. We approach the village and I squint at a right hand turning sign but friend keeps going. We leave the village behind and start a steady climb. Soon the quiet is broken by the petrol warning alarm, 20 miles of fuel left and we didn’t know the way. I’m just wondering if I have enough phone battery left for the sat nav to work when friend says ‘I wish we had a sat nav . . . what you’ve got it on your phone, why didn’t you try that before?’ to be honest I forget it’s there, I don’t get lost! Unless I’m being driven by Jackie, on the way home from Buckerell.
My suspicions were confirmed, we shouldn’t have gone through Aylesbeare, but if we had turned right there, we wouldn’t now be heading for Ottery St Mary. But if this lane reached the common, it would be creepy especially with someone following us, but we should then be able to turn right.
YES! Sidmouth road and we limped to a petrol station. After a – diversion – of about 15 miles, we got to my house having taken an hour and a half instead of twenty five minutes.
Lessons learnt.
Always take my glasses even if I’m not driving.
Never think I need not concentrate on the road myself if Jackie is driving me anywhere after dark.
Remember my phone has a sat nav and take my charger so I can use it.
I have a stranger sense of humour than I realised, most people wouldn’t think it was a huge hilarious adventure getting lost in the deep east Devon lanes at midnight, with not even moonlight to guide us.
Elisa has chosen one of my all time favourite songs this week. Louis Armstrong singing Wonderful World, if you visit to join in http://autumninbruges.wordpress.com/2012/08/16/music-in-pictures-contest-what-a-wonderful-world/ you can listen to him on the video she has posted. When my first grandchild was expected my son and daughter in law gave me bunch of ten second clips from their scans. I joined the clips together, used this song as the sound track and gave it back to them as a mini production. Now you know how soppy I am!
I looked at pictures taken around the world but in the end decided that my beloved Dartmoor is as good as it gets. This is taken at Hound Tor looking north east.
You should be able to click to zoom in!
This is a great new challenge my lovelies and Elisa would be thrilled if you all joined in!
Lucid Gypsy 