Andalucia part 2

Alhama de Granada, set high up in the mountains. Such was its desirability that when the Moors lost it to the Spanish in 1482,  Abu Al-Hacen famously let out a lament of sorrow '¡Ay de mi Alhama!'  I felt a bit the same when it was time to leave.

Hibiscus in the grounds of the Hotel Vinuela where we went for a posh lunch.

In the afternoons, the first clue would be the sound of bells, and then they would appear, led by a goatherd. They are quite playful, fighting each other, bleating and occasionally almost jumping. Goat's cheese is a speciality in the area.

Beautiful ceramics. If I was coming back by car, I would be laden down with them.

Seems it's not just mad dogs and Englishmen out in the midday sun

The sun setting over our olive groves

Time for a trip indoors I think. Want a peek?

Andalucia part 1

We've been to sunny Spain. Viva Espana!

Andalucia is a magical, enchanting place. It has arid landscapes which produce succulent fruits and almost inhospitable temperatures which produce gracious, welcoming people.

Oranges, peaches, olives, limes, lemons, pomegranates, almonds, prickly pears. Everywhere you look there is bounty. Today is mainly about our little villa. It's a 200 year old one storey dwelling, built to withstand the heat. Thick walls, small windows, tiled floors. Just perfect.

It has no real address, just the name of the house and the village, Periana, which is famous for olive oil production. The second picture down is the 'road' to the villa. It's just a track by the side of olive groves.

Goat's bells and prickly pears

A shy donkey in an olive grove just below our house. The sound of braying floated up to us by the pool.

Alhama de Granada. Perfection.

Frigiliana. The guide books say it is one of the prettiest white villages in the area. It was too perfect for me. Like a stage set for tourists. Reminded me of that soap opera from the 1990s, El Dorado. I prefer a place to be lived in, real. It was the only place we encountered a surly waiter. I wonder if that is a necessary ingredient of famously beautiful places? It was the same in Dubrovnik. 

We went to Periana, Viluena, Frigiliana, Granada, Alhama de Granada and Nerja, but mainly we hung out at our villa. Do you fancy a tour?

Take the road signposted North. When you get there, take a right turn towards the East

We've had this on the mantelpiece for months, a golden invitation to an autumn wedding up in the beautiful Yorkshire dales.

Him indoors is a Yorkshire man. I've noticed the further north we go, the happier he gets. Roots are important.

The wedding was designed in what was coined by one of the bridesmaids as bling minimalism. The colours were gold and white with the bride's Chinese heritage coming through strongly. Monkeys for the boys, horses for the girls as those are the Chinese horoscopes of the bride and groom.

We walked across fields on the Saturday to help set up for the reception. It was a beautiful day so I wore sandals. In a phrase that I like to use as to challenge the Universe, I said, 'What's the worst that can happen?'

If the Universe were on a dating website, I think it could allow itself a GSOH*. How do you suppose it responded?

Food glorious food! We ate like kings. Every guest was given a favour of a jar of honey from the groom's mother's apiary.

Carpaccio of red, golden and candy striped beetroot with goats cheese, mint leaves and flower petals and some kind of dressing. I felt like I'd wandered onto Master Chef.

The venue was Broughton Hall, a 16th century pile which has been in the same family forever. The week before, the weather was shocking and Cindy told me that the venue had asked her what her contingency plan was. I didn't quite understand what she meant until I realised that the wedding was actually outside. In Yorkshire, at the end of September.

Brave, but the gods were on their side.

The wedding took place at Eden and the reception at Utopia. One guest said they sounded like tacky nightclubs. Rest assured, they were anything but.

Late at night, the garden lit up with strings of bulbs and tea lights. It was magical. The heavens were filled with stars. We walked home down country lanes which were pitch black and entirely silent.

The following day on the drive home, I saw this. It was a sign. ;)

So off we popped to Gargrave. What did I find there?

A chinoiserie table and a carved wooden Siamese temple dancer. A fitting end to a weekend with an Oriental twist.

This weekend I haven't done much, but today we went for a walk. 

Any bloggers posting OBDs**: I'll see you and raise you! Who's the daddy now?

*Good sense of humour
*Obligatory blogging deers

Reasons to be cheerful

So much of our time this year has been spent in the garden and so much of our pleasure has derived from the produce. Dahlias and zinnias grown from seed.

Ditto sweet peas. Here are the seeds for next year.

They've been spectacular and so prolific this year. Even now, they keep coming.

This is a new little project. It's called a happy jar. When something nice happens, you write it on a piece of paper and stick it in the jar. Whenever you feel a bit down, you open the jar and look through some of the good things which have happened. Or you could start in January and then review the year in December. 

My first entry. Cutting a courgette from the garden and putting it straight into the pot. Yes, that made me happy.

A country walk resulted in a surprise haul of brambles. We added some apples from our tree to make the most delicious crumble. Growing things. Food. Basic stuff, but feels so good.

What are the simple things that make you happy?

Get blogging, you!

That's what Vix said to me yesterday. Sometimes you just need a kick up the wotsit, don't you? So, here I am.

Behind the radio silence, there has been activity.

An afternoon at the emergency doctor's. Amidst the frontline germ warfare an elderly couple ate sandwiches and drank coffee from a flask. Gave a whole new meaning to health tourism. Imagine their surprise when a doctor called out their name. A small child created a lake of vomit on the floor. The doctor shouted out 'Harley Davidson' and off he went, little pukey-chops.

But also the perfect antidote. A day out with my mum and sis to an idyllic buddhist garden.

Chinese lanterns everywhere. The garden opens on certain evenings during the summer and the lanterns are all lit.

The garden has the loveliest feeling of serenity. My sis said it was perfect. I think she might be right.

The monk who owns this property bought a field and then set about creating an authentic Japanese garden himself. To this day, in his 70s he is still the main force behind things. It was he who was making tea and scones in the little cafe.

A lake with koi carp, shaped trees, bridges, bamboo, pagodas. All the traditional elements are there.

I love this topiary leylandii

I love going and visiting other gardens to get inspiration for ours. This one taught me that it's possible to make structure interesting. It's a good lesson.

Other than that, there has been socialising. The first of a series of 50th birthday parties, a day trip to an antiques fair (to follow), a weekend in Somerset to catch up with family and friends and a GNO with the girls from Uni. Next up there's a wedding in the Yorkshire dales. Busy, busy, busy!

Enjoy the weekend everyone!

Pooch alert!

Warning: you may want to kill me by the end of this post. 

But look at that face! How could anyone resist? We spent a glorious few days looking after this little pooch down in South Wales. 

She's only tiny: her against a pigeon would be a fair fight, but she knows what she wants. And what she wants is to play with you, and to snuggle up to you. 

Asking to come up on the sofa. The bluest hydrangeas

Rhossili bay. Winston Churchill impression

Still asking to get up on the sofa. Mint ice cream.

The lesser spotted man of the house. Pooch has had enough of walking.

Holed up in the old man tree waiting for the thunder and rain to pass

A city of two tales

A chance invitation to house-sit this last week, meant I was in town for the latest bloggy get together yesterday. Which town you say?

It's Cardiff, capital of Welsh Wales!

The first tale is of a get together with some lovely bloggers: Vix, Dee and Em. What a stunning group of women!

I have met Vix before; the friendliest blogger in the known universe, but sweet gentle Dee with her gorgeous red hair and big eyes, and beautiful Em with her lovely manner and gracious hostess skills are new to me. A few hours in, fuelled by killer strength mojitos, we were laughing like navvies.

Here's the way it goes: various bloggers turn up dressed to kill. First task is to find a reviving coffee after the journey. Then there's some serious shopping interspersed with sightseeing. Next comes lunch, always in Wetherspoons, usually washed down by jugfuls of cocktails, often involving social intercourse with pensioners. That takes a while and involves photographs. After that it all goes a bit woozy until we suddenly realise our train is due. At some point we open gifts!

It's a patented formula, and very successful it is too. Any bloggers wishing to establish a franchise are very welcome. Your only obligation is to have fun!

A book set in Africa and 1960s pattern from Vix and a couple of funky brooches from Em. 

Wetherspoons, where the smiles get wider! :D

Miss Taunton, Miss Winchester and Miss Walsall. No competition, they were the best in show.

Vix just managed to save herself from a slovenly hair moment there. If there is one thing that we learned in Cardiff it is that 'slovenly hair can ruin all your chances'.

I advise you to take heed.

There's a lot to see in Cardiff. There's a giant panda roaming on some cafe tables, fine architecture which would not be out of place in Venice, a tribute to the late great Aneurin Bevan, founder of the NHS and a castle. Which is where the second tale begins.

The traditional owner and resident of the castle on the right here, was the Marquess of Bute.

A resident on the street on the left, St Mary Street, was my four times great grandfather, the imaginatively named Mark Marks. Marks and the Marquess of Bute were well known to one another, and in 1841 the Marquess presented a plot of land to him.

In the 1861 census, my relative can be found residing at 34 St Mary Street, which is today the Cardiff Oxfam Boutique. WHICH WE VISITED!!! I didn't know at the time that this was great great great great grandpappy's residence or I would have been squeaking in excitement, just as I am now.

Have you ever done any family history? I recommend it, it can be quite amazing what you discover. It can lend general history a fascinating new perspective. If you have, have you found out anything interesting? Any characters in your clan?