A difficult time of year

No, it's not been an easy Christmas. I wanted to feel it, you know, all the joy and goodwill, but it's been hard work from start to end. It always seems harder, doesn't it, when everyone else is out enjoying themselves and you're stuck in a dreary grind of endless details. Like you're in a little gray world of your own.

You wouldn't believe how much paperwork there's been. I'd put that application in from my parents' address months ago. Never thought it would come to anything, but all of a sudden I got a call to say there's a council flat available down there. I couldn't say no, could I? Not in the circumstances. Even though it only meant moving to the other end of the sodding country. So we packed up quick as we could and stuffed the Astra as tight as a Christmas turkey, and then - then what happens? "Oh I'm sorry sir, there's been an administrative mistake. You can't move in until the end of January." Fat lot of good that is, when the lease runs out on our old place in mid-December.

You'd think someone could have put us up, wouldn't you? No, everyone was away or had family coming to stay. Merry festive season and all that. I'd found some cheap hotel, but when we got there they knew nothing about our reservation, and were very rude about it. We ended up in the roughest B&B you can imagine. I thought we'd have been better sleeping in the car, but it was a good thing we didn't, as it happened.

Why? Well, you know all those horror stories of the husband having to deliver a baby on the way to the hospital? We didn't even get that far. Oh yes. Right on the stinking carpet. I was absolutely bloody terrified, I can tell you. He came out all right, though. Mother and baby both doing well, as they say...

No, but there's more. We'd just about got the mess mopped up, when someone started hammering the door half off its hinges. Turned out to be the down-and-outs from the rooms upstairs. I thought they'd come to complain, but you know, as soon as they saw the baby they were transfixed. You should have seen it - these rough guys all huddled round cooing over a tiny bundle. So I went off to make everyone a cuppa, but when I got back I couldn't even get into the room. Three more lads had turned up, kind of Arabian looking, but what they were doing there God only knows. They didn't seem to have much English. To be honest I was so exhausted by that point I didn't much care. I just wanted it all to be over so I could get some sleep. They left us some pricey-looking presents, though. Is that some kind of foreign thing? Giving expensive gifts to complete strangers?

Yeah well, it's over now. We moved into the flat yesterday. Mary's been amazing through the whole thing, and Baby J's cute as can be, but I tell you something. I hope I never have another Christmas like that one.

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One hundred churches

About the middle of January, I was walking to school one afternoon when it occurred to me that I must have visited quite a few churches on my explorations. I started counting them. But I quickly ran out of fingers, so when I got home I plotted them on Google Maps. Not only was the number much higher than I was expecting, it was also tantalisingly close to one hundred. Only a few dozen to go. So of course, every walk since then has had to include at least one church! Last Monday I visited my hundredth church: St John the Baptist, Dethick. It was a beautiful little 13-century building with an unusual tower - I was glad it had claimed the 100 spot. I haven't been inside every church. Sometimes they were locked; sometimes I was in a hurry and didn't try the door. St Leonard's Church in Alton had bellringers practicing, and I almost interrupted a funeral when I stuck my head through the door of St Mary's, Marston-on-Dove. A few, such as St Oswald's, Ashbourne, and St Wys...

Derwent Valley Heritage Way: Steep drops ahead

It's been a long time since I fitted that much up and down into an eight-mile walk! 740m of steep climbs and steps. My legs were not very happy with me the next day. Between Matlock and Cromford, the Derwent River runs through a deep valley, with Matlock Bath - a landlocked town which pretends to be a seaside resort - down at the bottom. The ridge of high ground used to run all the way round to Scarthin Rock, cutting off Cromford from the rest of the valley, until somebody blasted a hole through it to build the A6. Matlock Bath: pavilion and amusement park I started in Cromford and climbed over the ridge at Harp Edge, then followed a path along through the woods, with the ground dropping sharply away to my right. There were a few small caves among the trees. At Upperwood someone had thoughtfully provided a bench. I wasn't in need of a rest just yet, though. In fact, I was feeling so bouncy that I went down an entirely unnecessary flight of steps, instead of staying on the reaso...

Limestone Way - the end! (for now...)

Bonsall is a pretty little village just up the road from Cromford. It was the centre point for my final Limestone Way walk. First I walked one way, back towards Ible, then I walked the other way to Matlock. I started at the fountain and climbed up to a tree in which a mistle thrush was singing loudly (helpfully identified by the Merlin app). A few fields took me across to the hamlet of Slaley. Then there was a pleasant walk through the woods, which dropped steeply to my left down to the Via Gellia. At Dunsley Springs the stream went right over the edge. I made my way down more gradually, and then was faced with the long climb up again to the point near Leys Farm where I was rejoining the Limestone Way. Tree down! Rejoining the Limestone Way Once I'd reached the top, it was a very pleasant walk across dry grassy fields. There were signs of old mining activity, which suddenly made the ground feel less solid under my feet - how many holes were hiding under the turf? Back at Bonsall, ...

Martha's Marvellous Munchies

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