Hypothermia on the Fell Tops. Plus disappointed salesmen.

Friday 1^st November.

Waking up in a strange room in the arms of a strange woman isn’t something I have done very often. In fact I’ve not done it at all before, ever. Now, waking with a strange guy in a strange room – that I have done a few times. I will not dwell on it though.

I thought it was Laura at first and spoke to her as though it was. I jumped out of bed and went for a shower. She was dressed and had made some tea by the time I came out. She didn’t say anything about wanting to share so neither did I. I mean it’s not as though we did anything, is it?

We walked around the walls this morning, on the way to the museum, dodging the spots of rain which was quite interesting but not as good as Chester which seems to have an almost complete circumnavigation of the old city by its walls. There is surprisingly little of old Eboracum extant which was a pity. There are some fascinating artefacts in the museum though, including some phenomenally delicate glassware. I can’t believe how skilled the Romans were, every time I see something as beautiful as their glass. It shows how much we lost when the empire went belly up. Just think how technologically advanced we would be today had he empire survived?

We spent until 1pm on the casket as arranged and then the colections manager put it to bed. She was keen to see what we had done so far with the other ones, so I showed her some of the pictures on my tablet. She was quite impressed and told us that if we went on like this we could become the foremost experts on them. [Now there’s a thought!]

I persuaded to Feli to try the Railway museum again and there was no queue! The demographic inside was almost stereotypical, men out numbered he women by about 12 to 1. It was swarming with kids, as half term is still on in York. I took a lot of pictures of the A4 Pacifics to give to Dad. I was sure he’d be thrilled!

In a way they have a kind of elegant beauty about them. You can understand why men, who are usually quite passionless creatures, get all emotional about them. I imagine once they are fired up they are almost like a living creature. One which, in order to function properly, requires really dedicated human / machine interaction.

Sheffield by 2.30pm and up in Cumbria at Dad’s by half past five. Phew. There’s driving! Laura skipped the afternoon and was ready to pick me up and go from the station. Callie was a bit surprised to see me and we had a swift meet and greet in the car park. The M61 / M6 was not nearly so busy as I had thought it would be I supposed Cumbria must still be on half term too.

I took over driving after the Tebay services and raced a convoy of idiots up to Shap summit. Three of them followed me all the way along the A66 but I lost them all at the chicane section of road by Bassenthwaite Lake. My new car does the twists and bends on that section of dual carriageway far better than the Picanto did. It is almost as good as driving it in my Dad’s 2cv.

Dad has put Beasley away for the winter. He always does. I love that little old car. He loved the photographs of the Railway Museum, so much so he is planning on going down himself before the 11^th, when they all go their separate ways again until February. He, in this case, means he and Louisa as she seems to be as mad about trains and train travel as Dad. I guess it is all the train travel he did as a youth. He did “Interrail” three times, during his time as a student.

Loll wandered off to the Thomas home for her evening meal and filial duty. I went round after my meal and we again showed her Mum and Dad that we are a serious couple once. Molly is quite happy that her daughter is happy, Eric still seems to have a simmering resentment lurking beneath the surface. If I wasn’t my Dad’s daughter I guess I wouldn’t be shown house room if Eric had his way. Still every little acceptance by her Dad makes it easier in the long run.

The fact that I had spent a night away from Laura made our loving making quite intense tonight. I never cease to be amazed by the inventive ways she brings me to orgasm.

Saturday 2^nd November.

Kendal Caravans is nowhere near Kendal, it must be a good 10 miles out of town on the way to Kirkby Stephen! They did have a fairly large selection of static vans on display and we were allowed to wander around and look in every one on the site, if we wanted. They didn’t have the ABI Ambleside, which I had liked the look of, but they had some stunners there instead. The prices of some of them! I was a bit shocked at how expensive some of them were!

The salesman could sense a looming sale at first but he was disappointed. Whatever we decide, the site owner on Arran deals with everything, once we have told him which van we want on the pitch. Naturally we didn’t tell the salesman this. Especially not as he called Laura and I Dad’s daughters! [And told Louisa she didn’t look old enough to be our mother!] We both liked a Swift model which had French doors out of the front and also a separate lounge section. [Glad I was proved right. Even Dad had to agree, that the sections being divided made it feel more like a real house than a caravan. Which was my point entirely.]

We spent three hours at the dealership and you could almost feel the disappointment when we went off without buying anything! Our next step is for us all to go across to Arran and look at the site together. That is planned for next weekend. If I can get the Friday off, we’ll drive to Dad’s next Thursday night so we can leave early on Friday to get the 9.45 ferry to Arran; then spend the day at the site and negotiate with the owner [That’ll be Dad’s job.] Two nights at a B & B then back on the early ferry on Sunday morning. This way we can have a break at Dad’s before driving back to Sheffield or spend the night there and drive down early on the Monday. I am really excited! Whoo Hoo!

Went to a soggy firework display organised by the village hall committee, which was OK apart from the wetness, but they had a brilliant after fireworks supper arranged which went down a treat. It was a bring your own booze affair [cheaper than applying for a temporary licence] so we had a half case between us. I am afraid I got a bit tiddly and told Louisa I would really love to have a baby brother or sister. Ooops! Wrong thing to say. They have been for tests to see why she hasn’t conceived yet and the conclusion is that it is down to her age. Everything is working fine for both parties, it’s simply nature being a bit tardy as Louisa is now 43! I felt so awful for having brought up what has obviously been difficult for both of them. TBH, I hadn’t realised how serious they were about having a child together [I’d put it down to just talk…  Shows how ‘off’ my radar is at times, eh?]

More worrying from my perspective is the thought that conception at a later age may be more difficult that I had previously thought. Am I being silly thinking that I can delay motherhood until my late thirties? Oh, shitehawks. I really should have kept my stupid mouth shut.

I was quite upset when we went to bed and poured out my fears and worries to Laura. She knows what I feel about being a Mum and we have talked about all sorts of weird and wonderful scenarios to get me or her or both of us pregnant. Having spoken to someone who seems to be trying desperately but unsuccessfully to have a baby is a very worrying thing to do. I have another nagging doubt now, lurking in my little grey cells. Why do we make life difficult for ourselves? Why couldn’t I have this conversation with my Dad?

Sunday November 3^rd.

We for a walk up Blake Fell today. A family affair; I mean: Laura and me, Dad and Louisa and Molly and Eric, plus Loll’s kid brother! It looked as though the fells may get a drenching so we played save by going up one of the more westerly fells to avoid the rain. It didn’t work. It kept spitting at us for most of the day, which is quite dispiriting after a while.

However, we did our good deed for the day. Some kids from Whitehaven were out on Blake too, doing a DoE practice walk, one of them was looking decidedly ropey. They said “Hello” to us as we met at the cairn but I could see one of the guys was looking unwell. They stayed to fuss our dog pack and the other three admitted the guy had been looking listless and a bit stumbly for a while. Dad and I sort of reacted together and made the kid eat a chocolate bar immediately. We then dragged him into the summit shelter, sat him down and gave him a cup of hot tea from one of our flasks.

The group had plenty of cold drinks with them but nothing hot! Their finishing point for the day was the Lamplugh Tip pub where they were being picked up, so Dad insisted they joined with us and we accompanied them back down off the fell and then walked with them to the pub, the others went to the car park while Dad, Laura, Kid brother and I went with them to their rendezvous.

One of them phoned up the collecting parent as we walked through Lamplugh Green and at the pub they seemed a bit miffed that we had brought down their children a couple of hours earlier than planned! Dad explained that the guy to whom we had fed the chocolate, and the hot drink, had been displaying the classic signs of the early stages of hypothermia on the fell top and their planned route would have taken them ages to get down by which time he could have been unconscious or worse!  This seemed to appease the dozy dad in the car although the mum was much more supportive. They squeezed all six of them into their car and drove off to Whitehaven. Dad said, after they’d gone, “You know what? None of them said Thank You!”

Laura’s brother then asked us what all the fuss was about and what was hypothermia? Laura explained it to him in that sort of sarcastic tone only sisters can do to their siblings. Dad and I smiled at each other and I whispered, “Susannah!” to him. He agreed that she was doing a very good Susannah impression. She used to speak to me like that quite a lot when I was little. I used to think she was a stuck up, supercilious cow. Funny how other people say that about me now, isn’t it?

We trooped, in convoy, back to Dad’s, where all seven of us ate a huge roast dinner which had been slowly cooking away while we were being fell top Samaritans. Laura had brought the last of our apple cakes up for dessert [serves her right for eating it, LOL] and we had a jolly time recounting scrapes in the fells. Well, Dad and I did, the others it appears aren’t as avid fell walkers as the Dad / Daughter duo have been.

Doing a long walk on the same day as you are driving back home is probably not a very sensible thing to do. I was absolutely knackered as we drove past the Reebok Stadium, down the motorway. So Laura made me pull off at the next junction and then took over driving duties to get us safely back to Sheffield. If I had been alone I know I would have just carried on going and probably fallen asleep at the wheel.

When we got home Dad had left a message on our answer machine, moving the Arran trip back by a week. He had forgotten a conference he was scheduled to attend on the Thursday and Friday of the coming week. Never mind. We spent the late evening discovering that I had left my tablet in my bedroom at Dad’s. I phone him up to check but there was no reply. They had probably gone to the Bush for a Sunday night lock in. A regular occurrence it seems. I hope it is there. I am convinced I had on Saturday, so I haven’t left it in York.

Bloody gadgets are a nuisance, aren’t they?