Nostalgia

I’m not really one for sentiment, but today’s walk took us back to some happy memories in places we no longer visit. These places are very close to our house, but we’ve moved on to other things, as have the people we used to know there. That’s a bit of a depressing beginning to today’s post, but it was a lovely walk all the same, with lots of laughs and reminiscences that made us smile.

It was a cold one today, and I mentioned this to a friend who also agreed that it was ‘bloody freezing’. But I’d been looking forward to tackling the walk in different weathers (really, I can’t wait for it to rain!), so I relished having to wrap up and test my resolve. This is how much I wrapped up:

But don’t forget, we had our flask of tea, so we knew it would be okay. My trusty and stalwart Matthew was with me once again. I’ve not quite given up on the other two, but I’m not hopeful that I’ll be able to convert them to the joys and health benefits of the daily constitutional – they look at me like I’m insane when I ask each day if they’d like to come with us. ‘What? Outside? Why?’

All of my children are now in high school and college, but I fancied a little look at their old primary school again. To get there, we have to walk past the allotments, under the old, low train bridge where a double-decker bus driver once forgot he was driving a double-decker and sliced off the top of the bus, alongside the park that’s always been a little bit rubbish but still well loved, and down a bunch of streets where play ghosts from my own and my family’s childhoods. 

This above is the train bridge. It’s an odd thing to feel sentimental about, but it’s always been there, you know? Solid, dependable, bridgey. 

For a while, I forgot to take photos as we spent a good part of our walk chatting, Matthew and I, about the many happy times we’d walked this way to school. ‘Do you remember how much dog poo there used to be, Mum?’ ‘I do, Matthew – so much poo.’ Ah, good times. 

Eventually, we reached The White Wall. It’s now pebble dashed and brown, but it will always be The White Wall to us. It belongs to The White House. We’ve always been great at thinking up imaginative names for things. 

I haven’t included a picture of the school because I’m not sure if that’s allowed. I feel like it might be illegal to post a picture of a school, so you can have a picture of the really narrow pavement just before it. Many’s the time I’ve had to screech, ‘KEEP RIGHT IN!’ to one or more of my children as cars have whizzed past well over the speed limit. Ah, more good times.

So, we’d walked a proper mile by this point and decided we’d take the long way home. There were roads we hadn’t explored for years and also we needed to earn our cup of tea, which we didn’t feel we’d done yet. 

Now just look at this. Shakespeare Road and Bronte House – don’t ever let it be said that Lancaster isn’t cultured. 

We walked another half mile or so and felt like we’d probably earned our cup of tea by now. But dear gods, it was at this point we realised muck spreading had been going on very recently. We can confirm that farming is still in full swing so the nation will still be fed. Thank you, farmers! However, the stench was mighty and it put us right off our tea. Here is the offending but terribly important muck-spreaded field:

Round a corner and a little way down the road, the air was sweet again and we were able to stop for our rest. To be honest, it wasn’t much fun sitting on the cold pavement in front of the crematorium to drink a small cuppa, and we were pretty close to home at this point anyway. But getting the flask out has become a bit of a ritual now so we felt like we had to do it.

Next, we came to the cricket club. I wonder if cricket will be played here this summer. I have nothing else to say about this, not being even the smallest bit interested in cricket. Power to you, if you are. 

This is the rugby club. It’s not much to look at, this old place, but I’ve had lots of happy times here. I can’t really remember most of them because the beer is cheap. 

So that was that, really. A completely uneventful but pleasant walk, during which we heard not a single bird - I know you’ll be disappointed not to hear any bird calls today, but who knows what we’ll hear or see tomorrow. I’m thinking ducks, but that might be wrong – do ducks migrate?

Until tomorrow, fellow bird watchers.

WQ