dorothystewartblog

about writing and life and God

Day Ten: Going home

Home! After a 365 mile solo drive (if you don’t count Jesus) from the borders of Scotland down through England to Cambridge, then a sharp left turn till you almost hit the far eastern coast. Home. Whew.

And glad.

Sometimes, to paraphrase T.S.Eliot, it is necessary to take a wander back through the past and check it out and discover what it means now. And then look at where you are now and discover just how good it is – and recognise it for what it is: in my case, that where I am now is home.

Home means lots of different things to different people. I have a nomadic streak and I love new places and overnight billets – lovely hotels in locations like at Annandale Water. Waking up to beauty fills me with delight.

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View from my balcony at Annandale Water this morning

But home: that is something deeper, richer. Long ago, I put my roots down in the rich soil of Somerset, letting them go down deep – which made the pulling up when my husband died in 1994 and I had to move the more painful. I haven’t had the courage to ‘settle’ properly anywhere since then.

But driving into Westmoreland this morning, past the sign that said ‘Welcome to England’, I realised I have lived in England for 38 years. More than half my life. More than anywhere else. England is home, and Suffolk, and the town where I live, and the street, and the little house on that street with my cat waiting for me and the friend who was feeding her for me, and my church this evening, and … This all constitutes home.

And I’m glad. And grateful. And it’s time to let my little roots unfurl and go down into the welcoming soil of Suffolk. And, to mix the metaphor, it’s time for some nesting – nice things for the house to make it more ‘home’. Nice things for the garden… maybe some herbs… salads, tomatoes… food!

Home. Welcome home. At last.

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Day Nine: Serious snow, and evening sunshine

On the road again – and by 5.30p.m. I had clocked up 330 miles – and I’m not out of Scotland yet!

It’s been an interesting and challenging drive. I left Wick in sunshine but by the time I reached Berriedale, it was clear that there had been significant snow, and it was still falling.

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Looking back towards Berriedale

And the snow continued all the way, varying from white-out to pretty fluffy showers.

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Temperature dipped to 1 degree Centigrade

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At least the sheep have warm fleeces!

Even the hills of Perthshire were topped with snow, but down in the sunshine the temperature managed a balmy 9 degrees – very briefly!

I was glad to arrive at Annandale Water in sunshine and had a relaxing walk around the lake before tea.

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The prettiest service station in the UK?

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The terrace will be brilliant in the summer

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Day Eight: Snow, hail and daffodils

Spring is definitely here in Wick. The day began with a wander down to the library

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Wick Public Library

past the greatest mass of daffodils I’ve seen anywhere.

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Daffodils on the Academy Braes

I spent hours in the Caithness Archive Centre reading back copies of the newspaper I worked on during my gap year: The John O’Groat Journal – but I was researching the pre-war and war years. Wick was a busy place during the war. Because the aerodrome had been built before the war, it appeared on maps – so the Germans knew it existed and it received plenty of Luftwaffe attention – as did the houses nearby.

It began to snow as I walked back to my sister’s for lunch – the blurry bits are the snow!

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Snow!

And then I went back to the library for more research and came back in fierce hail!

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Deep hail outside the house

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Day Five: I love research!

I’ve had a wonderful day – and that’s just the weather! Yes, seriously, my sister and I have come back sunburnt after a great day exploring the very special places we knew as children, down the coast at Berriedale and on the Duke of Portland’s estate at Langwell.

Our grandfather was the last blacksmith there

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Smithy and blacksmith’s cottage, Berriedale

and our aunt married the son of the head gardener – yes, there is an amazing formal walled garden this far north, and the current gardeners have come from a famous National Trust property in the south of England to look after it.

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Winter beds, a blaze of colour in summer

As young children – aged up to about 5 and 6 – we ran free on the estate and in the gardens, and today we retraced our memories – and did some very useful research for Book 2 of The Mizpah Ring. Late in World War Two, Number 9 Company of the Canadian Forestry Corps were based at Langwell, tasked with cutting down the forest and supplying the war effort with essential wood. Some traces of their stay can still be discerned:

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Recreation hall

We had a lot of fun scouting out the various buildings and checking things out with people we encountered.then we went over the swing bridge

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You need to choose your company carefully on these things – not people who delight in bouncing!

to the beach:

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And then came home via Dunbeath’s Bay Owl Restaurant where we had a cup of tea with one of the finest views in Britain!

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Day Three: A Scottish Sunday

It’s Sunday so today’s activities are church and a walk with my sister and her friends. The weather is grey and not warm – unlike the glorious sunshine I left behind in Suffolk! But this does not deter us. We wrap up like Arctic explorers and set out for Keiss.

What surprises me is how much of the old World War Two tank traps are left lining the beach.

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Clearly the threat of invasion was taken very seriously, and as we walk along, I’m thinking about the effect of the war on local people – and this section in the new book. All useful research!

I love little harbours so we drove round to Keiss harbour

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and found some lovely splashy waves coming in round the harbour wall!

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And then it was time for tea! And home in good time for evening church.

 

 

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Day Two: North!

Another long’s day drive. I set off in sunshine from lovely Annandale Water at 8.30,

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Swan on Annandale Water

and hove to at my destination in Wick, Caithness, Scotland at nearly 5 o’clock. Whew!

And yes, I’d forgotten Scotland has a different climate from the south of England! There is still plenty of snow on the hill-tops so I was glad I’d decided at the last minute to pack a vest!

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A9 south of Inverness

Then once I’d got north of the tree-line, the cloud came down and it was a challenging drive with full-beam headlights all the rest of the way on switchback roads. But within moments of arrival I was comfortably ensconced at my sister’s with a mug of tea in hand.

Who said it’s better to travel hopefully than to arrive?Nonsense!

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Waiting time

It looked like snow. 6 o’clock in the morning and I was on my way back to bed but a chance-caught glimpse out of the back window drew me in a for a better look.

My house sits on a hill above the town and the view from the back bedroom(aka my study) stretches out to encompass the countryside beyond the town. Suffolk is really quite flat so that view takes in several miles.

And this morning, as well as a pleasing vista of white-frosted roofs, there was a a dark cloud-curtain hanging over the edge of town,  blurring into palest grey chiffon as the snow fell from it.

My central heating comes on early because I like to wake and read for an hour or two before I get up, so the room was warm enough for me to savour the view – and hope that the snow would come nearer!

Sitting now at my desk in the self-same study, there is no trace of snow and the late afternoon sun is sinking in a blaze of gold. A morning that began with a tantalising hope of snow comes to a gentle golden end.

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Taken a few minutes ago – maybe left it a little late!

 

I always used to wonder about the hymn which had the lines ‘Mornings of joy give for evenings of tearfulness.’ I thought it was miserable, meaning: if you start the day cheerful, it will all end in tears. Now that may sometimes be true, but I’ve learnt that I misread it. It encourages us that we may have evenings of tearfulness, but God delights in providing mornings of joy… after those evenings, if we’ll just hold on.

Let’s hold on – and look for the joy He has prepared for us!

 

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Day Seventeen: Wick: Ambling in the sun

A day of ambling, strolling, and enjoying the lovely sunny weather, bringing back memories of childhood – and maybe I can claim much of it as research for the next book!

First a walk up the river.

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Looking away from town

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Looking towards the town

Then after lunch, we went down to the harbour where timber was being loaded onto a boat bound for Scandinavia and paper-making.

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The sun shone, the sea was deep blue,and the sky clear blue – so on we went round the south head.

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My sister pointed out to me the remains of the breakwater Robert Louis Stevenson’s father was commissioned to build out into the bay. Despite several attempts, the breakwater was never completed – storms kept tearing off huge lumps of concrete and stone weighing over a thousand tons – and the project was finally mothballed.

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Out to the Trinkie – the sea-filled outdoor swimming pool where our mother taught us to float when we were very small.

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And then back in to Wellington Street (and Granny Leslie’s house from my novel, When the Boats Come Home).

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We ended up with a cold drink (and a cake!) at the very impressive Pulteney Centre, which offers facilities, hosts courses and a wide variety of groups – all run by the Pulteneytown People’s Project.

This evening is more research – a visit to an old friend to hear about her trip to Buenos Aires. And yes, that does come into the next book!

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