As I write this, Hugo is battling with a non-stick frying pan that has lost its non-stick. That'll be the frying pan he won't replace for reasons best known to himself. It's the frying pan I owned as a student about twenty years ago, and it no longer has a handle. He's managed to get two thinner than paper crumbly pancakes for me out of it, which I wolfed down. And now he's working on some for himself................. oh here's another for me, from a tiny frying pan he's found. Last year we didn't have pancakes, because he didn't manage to perfect the cooking on the said non-stick frying pan without handle, so after much swearing and abandoning of pancake batter in the bin, I quietly suggested he buy a new frying pan. This year I've been much more forceful and have "insisted" he buy a new frying pan.
That hill it's pointing up looks a little daunting doesn't it, but strangely, when walking up it, it felt flat, until the end.
The landscape, with its heather covered hills, is always on the brown side, which isn't everyone's cup-of-tea, but we like its unpopulated wildness. I always think it's the sort of landscape that has to battle against severe weather conditions, so it demands a lot of respect. And awe.
I do take my knitting with me on these walks, I like the idea of knitting on a hill surrounded by sweeping landscape. But on Sunday, while there was hard bright white sunshine, the air was brisk, and my hands were too cold to knit. But having taken my knitting with me, I felt I had to take photos of it, just to prove I had really and truly taken it.
I think all sheep will be Beautiful Betty's from now on.
Hugo's given up on the pancakes. Shall we place bets as to whether he'll get a new frying pan?
Cheerio, and I hope your pancake stories are beautiful ones. Love Vanessa xxx