OMG - My Step-mother is pregnant! (Plus Rannerdale Video! Wowee!)

Friday May 16^th.

We decided to head up to Cumbria this afternoon and invade Dad’s.

Laura decided she’d like a visit to her Mum & Dad and we could maybe get some climbing or fell walking in too. (Laura’s Mum and Dad live in the same Cumbrian village as my Dad.)

So after finishing Uni a little on the early side, we drove up to Dad’s via Scotch Corner. I have a feeling we may be giving this a miss in the future. Previously we had spotted lots of the trees and bushes along the route from the Bedale junction northwards had been felled or uprooted, well near to the start of the vegetation carnage is now a huge sign, they are going to make the section up to the Durham A1 (M) a motorway too. I can only assume that means they are going to make it three lanes wide like the bit down to Leeds. The downside is, the sign informed us that the work wouldn’t be completed until Spring 2017! I think we may put up with the drive over Woodhead to the Manchester motorway system until the works are completed until 2017!

However, the views over Cross Fell and the Pennines were so clear I was certain the Lakes would look wonderful too. Sure enough as we rounded the corner of the A66 at Stainmore Summit the fells were visible over thirty miles distant, the most obvious one to spot being Blencathra. As we drew closer and closer you could see the whole of the Helvellyn ridge with not a cloud in sight.

The drive along the 66 from Penrith can be a distraction; it certain was this afternoon, each twist and turn of the road brought even more distant fell tops out. Behind Robinson it was clear enough to see the Buttermere Red Pike. Down Borrowdale you could see Great End so clearly and Scafell peeking out over its shoulder. Laura was amazed that I could name all these fells, but as I explained I have been coming here since before I could walk, expressly to be in the mountains. I am bound to know them really well.

She laughed at that and said she had been born just down the road from here (Whitehaven hospital) but it was only since being my GF that she had even been in to the fells, never mind walked and climbed some of them! [This is so true of the many Cumbrians I have met.]

We arrived at Dad’s at about 5 pm and he informed us tonight’s meal was down the pub after 6. Not one to look a freebie in the mouth, we had a swift shower and then toddled along to the Bush for our evening nosh. Dad and I are known in their (Dad more than me to be honest) as he is part of their Quiz Team. Their special tonight was trout from the Gilcrux trout farm, so naturally I had that. I just adore fish. My blonde haired beauty had scampi. She is not quite as adventurous with pub grub. Laura is also known at the pub a she has been a village girl for all of her 20 years. Eric and Molly were meeting us at the pub (they are Laura’s Mum and Dad) and a couple of other people whom had been invited along. Errol and his partner, Keith and his and Bob and his (Memo: I really must try and remember their wives names.)

After the bunfight we all headed back to Dad’s where we had some of Uncle Hilmar’s wine (a rarity for non-family members to be offered a taste, TBH) and Dad announced that he has decided to retire at the end of the current semester after all.

I whispered to him at an opportune moment, “Is that all?”

To which he replied, “Damn. Just my luck to have a daughter who is brighter than I am. No, it’s not all, but don’t tell anyone yet – just in case – we aren’t going to be needing IVF after all. We found out at the last hospital visit that Louisa is pregnant. We aren’t telling anyone at the moment because we don’t want to tempt fate. So please no blabbing. OK?”

I gave him and extra special big hug and at the next chance I got I hugged Louisa too. She was less than amused, “Oh… He’s told you has he? The pillock!” I explained that I had, sort of, guessed there might be an ulterior motive for inviting his chums across for the meal and so I had asked him out right. My reasoning being that these people were all either villagers or locals none of his University chums were here, so I hazarded a guess that the retirement was really the reason at all.

“You really are as sharp as he is aren’t you?” She commented. I am not sure whether that was meant as a compliment or an insult to be honest. I treated it as the former.

I went on, “I am so pleased. It will be brilliant. I am going to love having a new sibling. Can I officially volunteer as chief baby sitter?”

“Mmm… He said you’d ask that. He really does know you very well doesn’t he?”

I had to agree that he and I were very close, despite him moving away when I was about 12. I did warn her that although Philip appeared nice and amenable, he would turn out to be the proverbial black person in the woodpile, from the old racist saying. He has a reputation for being almost the opposite of Dad in tolerance, understanding and, to be honest, level of intelligence. If anyone will kick off and be a complete arsehole about the news you can put on money on it being my big brother!

Louisa was surprised at this, given that he had just become a father again himself. I had to tell her that he had been a complete bastard towards Susannah and Peter moving to Australia. He actually stated that, “It will be like you are dead for me now. There is no way on this earth I am ever going to cross the globe to see you and that bloody sister snatcher’s offspring!” I know this attitude upset Suze and Peter and Mum & Dad too, even though they were in the process of getting divorced when he said it. I was fifteen at the time and I had been really shocked that he could have behaved like that.

I was even more shocked that he took the fact of Laura and I being a lesbian couple in his stride; no snide or nasty remarks; no refusal to visit me or anything like that really. I guess that you don’t stop riding the tiger or it might turn and eat you!

All of this went on under the pretext of Louisa and I being the perfect hostesses and bringing out our guests selections of nibbles and canapés. I had to hand Louisa a tissue to wipe her eyes where she had started to blub a little. It’s the hormones, pregnancy makes you a bit weepy. She also told me that if I wanted to, she would be delighted if I could one day call her “Mum” as she considered me her second daughter. (Ouch, ouch, ouch… That might be a step to far at the moment. Maybe once I have a baby sister (or brother) who will be calling her Mum I will find it easier to do.)

I recounted all this to Laura, post-coitally, in bed. {I think I have just made up that adverb, LOL] She was amazed. I had to make her swear not to breathe a word until it is all officially announced later in the year, hopefully. Naturally she agreed.

Saturday May 17^th.

It was a glorious, if very windy morning, so after their morning walk and breakfast I took Callie and Dad’s pack out to Rannerdale to look at the bluebells.

I asked Dad and Louisa if they wanted to come along but they declined, so it was just me and the Lollster who wandered lonely as clouds but to watch a crowd, a host of bluebells, sorry Billy.

Louisa did give me a swift hug before we set off and said, “You know what we said yesterday, it doesn’t matter if you can’t bring yourself to say it. It know and understand.”

I replied with what I had been thinking, “When the littley comes along, I expect I will probably get used to calling you Mum naturally. I wouldn’t want to confuse the little  blighter any more than is totally necessary. Plus, it is very unlikely they’ll ever be introduced to my ‘real’ Mum, so it won’t be a problem.”

Rannerdale was still blue with all the flowers spread out in the lower slopes. We parked at the foot of the crag and walked up the valley to see them all spread out before us in gorgeous blue carpet. They sort of stop at the intake walls, although they did seem to have spread up the side of the fell where there isn’t a wall. Maybe I just am imagining that from last time I came to see them in 2013.

Eventually we took our leave of the valley and walked up Rannerdale itself heading for the col. We debated whether to walk across to the summit of Rannerdale Knotts and as the weather was so fine we gave it a go. The wind was howling a gale, though. I dread to think what it was like on the high summits, I mean the Knotts are a mere pimple in the scheme of things in the Lakes. What I hadn’t realised was that we’d be blown along the ridge by a back wind which seemed to make the stroll take less time and be far easier than I remembered.

At the summit we had a good look around and then snuggled on the lee-ward side facing the fish ladder at the end of Crummockwater and scoffed our bar of chocolate each and an apple. We tried taking pictures of ourselves leaping across the chasm but they didn’t work as you tell that the chasm was only about six feet deep. Still it was fun. Although Dad’s trio decided they could leap over it too which gave me palpitations!

The walk into a head wind wasn’t so difficult as we were simply retracing our steps back to the col. From there we took a right turn and wandered down the steep bank into Buttermere. Here I was pleased to see the café was open [sometimes it isn’t] and the Lollster went and bought a pot of tea and some rather gooey chocolate cake. Luckily the seating area outside the café was also in the lea of the howling gale.

Once we had finished our tea, we walked on through the car park, past the campsite and down to the lake shore and the dinosaur fossil tail outcrop which sticks out into the water. There was a quite pronounced wave effect here but I bet it was much fiercer near the fish ladder at the other end of Crummock.

From this point we lost the dogs into the water for rather a long time, we only let them in there as we had gone out in Dad’s landrover, so I wasn’t too worried about having wet, muddy dogs in the car. 

Actually it turned out to be rather less muddy than anticipated and all we had in the back of Dad’s truck were four wet, but happy puppies gently, adding to the overall doggy smell of that car.

We arrived back in the village at about 2 pm, had a late lunch and then sat in the conservatory and watched the rest of the day unfold and get cloudier around us. The wind, which in the Lakes had seemed to be blowing from south to north in our village seemed to blowing up from the Solway (three miles away) which is the total opposite direction.

Best news on the TV front for some time; the Krister Hendriksson version of Wallander is back for a short season. The sad news is that Hendriksson has agreed only if the series can be ended in a way which means he can’t be asked to do any more. Boo and indeed Hoo! That will make thirty episodes he has done. I have the other 24 episodes on DVD so when the last set is released I’ll be getting them too. We watched tonight’s opening episode as it was broadcast live, this is quite unusual for us, but as it is on BBC 4 there are no bloody adverts to spoil your viewing pleasure. I also set up my PVR to record the whole series back in Sheffield, so I will have a copy of them before the DVD comes out.

We hit the charp relatively early for us as we were a little whacked after bluebell watching. Not too whacked to get frisky though!

PS I have managed to upload a video of the bluebells in Rannerdale, which I filmed using my phone. There is even a silhouette of YT in a baseball hat which makes me look bald!

Sunday 18^th May

Decided to walk the other end of Crummockwater this morning and have lunch at the best pub on the planet; The Kirkstile Inn. We only took Callie and Dad & Louisa were planning on giving the trio a run down at Grune Point (other side of Silloth) and then lunch at the Golf Hotel.

The day was much more overcast than yesterday but the temperature had dropped only slightly. We arrived at Lanthwaite Wood car park about 10.30 am and strolled the quarter of a mile, or so, to the lake shore almost in a convoy of other walkers. The wind was still whipping down the lake from the giants although at this point you can’t see them at all as Rannerdale Knotts shields them from view.

The waves were whipping along the lake, again, and making a mini sea shore by the fish ladder. I was really surprised that the pup decided she would brave the waves to retrieve a huge stick I hoicked in for her. She did though, about a dozen times. We attracted a crowd watching her swimming and fetching. One bloody git said, in a voice loud enough for me to hear, “That’s a very good throw for a girl!”  I tried to get Callie to do her doggy water shake near him but she declined. We moved on round towards the limnological building and found that last month’s mating frogs etc had produced a multitude of taddies. The pond was almost full to the brim with the black sperm like creatures. They were still just a body and tail at the moment, no sign of any limbs forming.

We continued strolling towards the holiday cottages and eventually fetched up at the Kirkstile. As though giving us a reward for our efforts Fortuna made the sun come out for us as we arrived. Good things these goddesses. We had our lunch and a glass of wine each in the beer garden looking out at Mellbreak and wondering if any deluded souls were climbing up it.

After lunch we walked up the first part of the Mosedale track, just to where the path up to Hen Comb starts, with the swimming pond at the bottom and from here we branched left to take us back to the shores of Crummock at the eastern side of Mellbreak. There were actually a couple of people on this little pebbly beach having a picnic! We ought to do that in the future.

After a further splash about in the water we headed back up the lake this time to the car. We found that D & L hadn’t arrived back yet so we shared a shower together and then continued what we’d started in there on the bed.

We had an afternoon tea with the Aged Parent(s) in the back garden but the cloud descended again blocking our views over the Solway Firth, which was a bit disappointing. 

After tea we reassured the happy parents-to-be that we were absolutely delighted by their news and then zoomed back down the spine of the country to sunny Sheffield and the information (from Steve and Ann) that we had missed a scorcher of a weekend. 

Wouldn’t you just know it?

PS Dad has asked me not to tell Mum their news, he wants to do it himself. Ooops. I texted her on Saturday night. I will have to text her again and tell her to act surprised when Dad contacts her!