We enjoyed a very long walk yesterday from Shibden Park which took us past the beacon where we were treated to some breathtaking views of the whole of Halifax laid out before our eyes. One of the major reasons why I love living in Yorkshire is how far away you can see on a clear day, our hills and valleys afford such views. Views that you can’t possibly enjoy if you were to live anywhere where the Vista is flat. We thought we were too late to join the longer walk as it was supposed to begin at 09.45am, and we didn’t catch the bus until 10.00am but just as we entered the gates of the park, the others were coming towards us as they headed to the first climbing path up to the beacon, so we joined them.
Nothing much to post about. K toddled off to respite on Friday. (In a taxi) I busied myself tidying up the flat, mainly out of boredom. Saturday morning donned my new walking boots and moseyed down to town to meet the other members of C.R.E.W. We walked up Thornhills and then across Hartshead Moor area. Hadn’t a clue where we were. We did cross the M62 at one point. I took a photo of the traffic. Well, not so much the traffic, more the perspective of the road disappearing into the distance I suppose. Experienced one of my funny turns walking over the footbridge on our return journey over the footbridge later.
Yesterday turned out to be one of those days again. Analysing its contents I realised that it was for the most part, centred around feet. It began with this Granny trying her best to cut her very long toe nails. Toe nails that have during the course of her sixty six years turned from ordinary toe nails to something akin to steel. Tried the nail cutters. No joy. Tried some scissors. They bent. Nearly went searching in desperation for a hacksaw. After resorting to using the very sharp (had horrible visions of being whisked off to hospital at this point with severed toe) kitchen scissors I somehow managed to make some headway and cut them shorter.
Yesterday I had one of those days. You know the sort I mean. Where shortly into it, you wish you had stayed in bed. You see, Boots had rung to say that my son’s glasses were ready for collection so I mistakenly thought that I would have to go with him. Why? Because I had paid for them and had the receipt. We made arrangements via mobile to meet at the same place as last week and at the same time. 12.30pm outside the paper shop in the bus station.
It’s my youngest sons birthday soon. In June. He requested an iPod. I talked him into letting me pay for his eyes testing and some new glasses. You know, buy a pair of designer one’s and get the other pair free? For £75 plus cost of eye test. I thought that the total amount would be about £100 at the most. So much for thought.