Ways of Seeing

Time flies when you aren't paying attention. At least, that's the way I feel about it. Nothing much has changed since I last wrote. Perhaps that is why I write less these days.

Last Saturday, 26th September 2015, we laid my Da's ashes to rest in the garden of St. Thomas More and St John Fisher Catholic Church, Burford. The time of year was fitting somehow, Michaelmas - the feast of All Saints. It is the name of the house to which Ma and Da moved when they retired to the Cotwolds. Graham and I stayed with Ma on Saturday night. We lit the fire and sat and talked. We looked through old photograph albums.

After Mass on Sunday, and a long delicious roast lunch, we left with two presents, both significant to me. The first was a massive bunch of Michaelmas daisies from the garden. The michaelmas was in flower when Ma and Da moved to their cottage in the country. It has always grown in the garden. Da loved it. He loved the garden and was just waiting and waiting for the sun to come out and shine again when he went and passed away in April. 

The second gift is a loan. It is Da's camera. I am not sure where he got it, as it would have been an expensive piece of kit in it's day and it would have been unlike him to go out and buy something so flash. It is a Canon 3000n SLR. Da loved to take photographs. It is passion he has passed on to some of my siblings: they take beautiful images, and regularly document family events and daily life. Looking through the old albums it is clear that Da had an excellent eye for a photograph too. He always caught the right moment, captured the smiles. He took photos in the same way as he painted. When you look at his painting you see all the colours of the rainbow, each shade of green and each cloud in the sky given due respect and brought to life in watercolour. Look in his paint box though and you'd see a few screwed up tubes of old paint. In my whole life I only ever remember him buying one tube of paint. He made the colours happen by mixing them on an ancient old palate, and he could paint any colour. Da's attitude to cameras and photos seemed to be similar. I don't remember him ever spending fortunes on photographic equipment. He loved this Canon 3000n though. I remember him wanting to have the camera all fixed up for when Graham and I married. He had a man put a film in it. I don't quite know what happened to it. Somehow the film was corrupted and when he had it developed there was nothing on it. He was sad about that. Now I look back and think I should have given him more help to make sure it worked properly.

And so, second chances come along. Yesterday Graham and I took the Canon 3000n to a shop and bought it new batteries and new film. We polished it and cleaned it. I downloaded the instruction manual from the internet and read it carefully. This morning we took the camera for a walk and took 6 pictures. We are learning, we are experimenting. Hopefully we will document the arrival of our own little one come November. We will take the film to be developed, choose the best shots and pop them in a brand new family album. I know when I was thinking about which pictures to take I was thinking about how Da would have seen the world. How he would have seen what we saw. He would have loved the cows, and he would have seen the happiness and love between Graham, our unborn baby and I. Hopefully, when the shutter clicked, we will have captured some of that. But, because this is a film camera, we will have to wait and see! There are another 30 pictures still to see, choose, consider and take before we can see the fruits of our labours.

I love having Da's camera. I've always wanted to take beautiful pictures. I don't know yet if I have any talent for it, but I'd like Graham and I to give it a go. I like the idea of using film. I want to wait to see what turns out. I am looking forward to the day we take the film to be developed, the excitement of walking home with the prints, the artistry of choosing the best pictures for an album that will forever be our window on the world. Maybe one day far in the future, our children will remember us, looking through the images we select. Maybe we'll be able to share how we see the world. And I'll know it was because Da, as he brought up his family, paid attention to how he saw the world and how he wanted us to see it too.

I stopped, the world carried on

My Da, Bob Hutton, died on 22nd April. It came as the most terrible shock I have ever experienced. I still cannot think or talk about it without crying. I think about it as the day I stopped and the world kept moving. 

There is much to be grateful for. Just two days before he was taken into hospital I told him I was going to have a baby, due in November. He grinned a big grin. My Ma jumped up and down, and looking at her laughing he said. 'I never saw you do so much jumping!'. He kept smiling for the rest of the day. The next day we went for a short walk around the green. I held his arm, and he apologised for being slow. I told him not to, and we talked of everything and nothing as we wandered. He had fish and chips for lunch on the day he went into hospital. my brother and his family were visiting. He knew he wasn't well, but did not say anything. He went to bed in the afternoon for a snooze (unheard of). Later that night I would call an ambulance for him, and sit by his side, with my Ma, in intensive care. None of us thought it would be his last hospital visit. He had nine lives you see, and we had been to this place many times before. But, soon he lost consciousness, and two weeks later passed away.

Shortly after he died, I do not know how long, they read that list of the fruits of the Holy Spirit in Church: charity, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, generosity, gentleness, faithfulness, modesty, self-control. I knew then it was a description of Da. He lived each of those gifts out every day of his life. He lived them when he went to work, he lived them when he came home, he lived them bringing up six children, he lived them laughing with friends. My Da always had time to listen to everyone. He never made assumptions, never generalised, never grouped people together with labels. Whenever anyone came to the house, even if they did look different (men with long hair, thousands of piercings, tattoos, alternative lifestyles, from far away, employed, unemployed) he would entertain, tell stories, laugh, joke and above all listen with gentleness to their story.

I am almost 6 months pregnant now, and still I feel that time has stopped still, that I am stuck and cannot move on. The one person I hold onto is my beautiful husband, who loves me, dare I say it (?), as much as my dear Da loves me. Ma came round today. Talking of Da she said, 'He always loved me so much. I was an angel in his sight, and everything I did was right. Unconditional his love was. Unconditional. The only thing I can do is have his pictures framed and hung. That reminds me of the way he saw the world.' We talked about how Da always spoke with gentleness to strangers, welcomed people, and thought about those he saw in the news as if he were among them. We agreed that was the way we would like to be, to try to be, just to honour his memory.

I've not thought much about the fact that myself and my husband are expecting a baby. Well, that's not entirely true. I have thought lots about practical things: money, buggies, car seats, nappies, maternity leave, work, child care. But, I have not thought much about the example I would like to set for our child, the model I would like them to have. I have been too caught up in work, on a treadmill that seemed as though it would never end. I wanted it that way, really. If I was busy I could not think about Da, I could imagine he was still at home with Ma and I just hadn't seen him in a while. But, you can't do that forever, and even if you try every now and then it brings you back with a horrid shock.

When I think about Da I realise I would like to show them the world as he saw it: full of beautiful landscapes to admire in wonder, people to love unconditionally with kindness and gentleness, patience to wait for all that is good in yourself and in others, generosity of spirit to listen to all those who pass your way, especially those who are different, faithfulness to God and to family, modesty to learn from life's experience, time to be awed by little things, like spiders webs and dickie-birds, and self control to be able to enjoy all things. If I could teach my child to see and live all that in the world I would be proud not only of him or her, but of my Da who taught me that was the best way to be; and, to have the determination to keep on working at it, especially when it seems hard.

Only my husband asked me how I was after Da died. Everyone else asked after my Ma. That is right and proper, as it is the job of us children to look after Ma now Da is not there. Now, people rarely ask how any of us are. For the record, I am not over it, and neither is my Ma, nor I imagine are any of my siblings. But, Da's legacy to us is strength shown through gentleness, and it is with those gifts that we will carry on. And maybe one day we'll catch the world up and join in again.

Veggie Feast Fasting

I have thoroughly enjoyed Lent this year. Mr Cloister and I have been spurning meat most days, and working our way through Hugh Fearnley Wittingstall's Veg Everyday and Sally Butcher's Veggistan - a vegetable lovers tour of the Middle East. We have cooked up some delicious new things; each evening is an adventure for the taste buds. The books are excellent inspiration, the first I bought in Oxfam for £5, the second was a generous gift from best friends of mine. Both are invaluable for creativity in the kitchen. I recommend seeking them out! Veggistan has a website, HFW has been around so long he is in the charity shops.

I have made up some new stuff too.

So far:

Chachouka -  a spicy North African Stew made with red peppers and tomatoes, baked eggs over the top. We had it with HFW's magic flat breads.

Cauliflower and Chickpea Curry - Sadly, this one belies the fact that HFW does not test every single one of his recipes. He adds water where it is not necessary at all! However, the concept is excellent, and made in the traditional way - frying onions and spices first, adding tomatoes and vegetables and slow cooking, is delicious.

Squash and Fennel Lasagne - HFW prepared the bechamel with celery, onion and bay - then discarded the beautiful ingredients! We cannot conscience such wastefulness! So I fried the the celery and onions with the fennel and made the bechamel with the bay.

Mushroom Stoup - Totally delicious mushroom stew made with porcini mushroom and flat field mushrooms, flavoured with dill. I hadn't had dumplings in years, and these were amazing.

Afghan Hotpot - From Veggistan this one - A lovely sweet gloopy stew to celebrate carrots and yellow split peas. We actually made it with one carrot and the parsnips from the fridge. It was great. I am reassured that you can make the same dish with pumpkin! The basic ingredients are onions, garlic, chilli, ginger, cumin, tumeric, coriander, cloves, tomato paste, tomatoes, white wine vinegar, vegetable stock, carrots and yellow spilt peas. Served with fresh flat breads.

Prawns and Parsley - Okay, I made this one up, but it turned out well. I cooked tagliatelli in a pot with half a fresh fish stock cube. Fried garlic and red chilli in olive oil and butter, added white wine, lemon juice and prawns, then basil pesto. Loads of fresh parsley at the last minute. Garnish with black pepper and parmesan.

Onion and Courgette Quiche - Again, made up. Easy really. Fry onions, and garic in butter with fresh thyme leaves. Roll out short crust pastry to fit pie dish. Whisk up 6 eggs with a splash of fresh double cream. Pour in the fried vegetable mixture to the pastry, add eggs, garnish with dried thyme, and artistic left over pastry strips. Bake for 25 mins at about 180 - 200C. I made a variation of this with leek fried in butter with thyme. I had tallegio cheese and scattered it over the top of the cooked leeks before adding the eggs. Both dishes were scrumptious.

Butternut Squash Pasta - Made up again, but it has turned into rather a favourite. Bake a butternut squash with butter and fresh thyme for 1 hour (ish). When it is cooked, fry onions, garlic,  thyme leaves and chilli in butter and olive oil. When translucent add a tablespoon or two of plain flour and a pint of vegetable stock to make a thick sauce. Peel the baked squash, chop it roughly and add to the pan. Cook paste of your choice. Add cream to the sauce if you feel. Add pasta to the sauce, stir all together, garnish with thyme, pepper and parmesan.

Black Eyed Bean and Lemon Hotpot - This was an eye opener and no mistake. Based on a blend of Greek lemon lemonato sauce and Persian casserole wizardry, Veggistan amazed me. Celery, carrots, lemon, dill, basil, tumeric, black eyed beans, potatoes - all flavour and warming, packing comfort and a punch. Life changing. Served with flatbread.

Pinto Bean Chilli and fresh Guacamole - From HFW. He did his track of wanting to add water when it is not needed agin, but was duly ignored. A delicious, flavoursome and comforting meal. Mr Cloister told me he didn't really like guacamole before we began. He loved it by the time we finished. I made that, of course, to my own, time honoured, recipe. Two avacadoes, two tomatoes, half a red onion (rest in the chilli), one garlic clove, cumin, paprika, squeeze of a lemon, salt and pepper. Mash it up a bit, Blend. Serve.

Vegetable Pastries - These were made up, but proved a good lunch too. Roasted parsnips, onions, potato. Fried onion in butter, with thyme. Mix together with cheddar. Fill puff pastry rounds and form traditional pasty shape. Bake for 25 - 30 mins. Serve with bake beans or salad.

That's the journey to date. I have chosen three new things for this week, and learning through Lent has never been more enjoyable. Fasting from meat, buying fresh vegetables from the local farm shop, not throwing anything away, and avoiding as much as possible any supermarket.

Oh! We planted the first veg in the garden too! Tom Thumb and Bingo peas, and Robin Hood broad beans. I drew a plan for our tiny little space. There is a 'walled garden' viz. 6 pots lined up on the wall in front of the fence; a 'herb garden' - pots of delicious things on old apple crates, a'hanging garden' - stuff growing from macrame pot hangers, a 'vegetable patch' - 4 broad bean plants, and about 3m of lawn, 2m of path and room for the tiniest table and chairs money can buy. It is going to be our patch of paradise.

Stations of the Cross from the archive

Back in 2010 I wrote a series of reflections on the Stations of the Cross. Here is an index to the contents. Behind each link is a short series of readings, thoughts and prayers. Perhaps you might like to read them this Lent.

Reasons for Beginning

Prepare for a Journey

Procrastinating

Creed

First - Jesus is Condemned to Death

Second - Jesus Carries His Cross

Third - Jesus Falls for the First Time

Fourth - Jesus Meets His Mother

Fifth - Simon of Cyrene

Sixth - Veronica

Seventh - Jesus Falls for the Second Time

Eighth - Jesus Speaks to Women

Ninth - Jesus Falls for the Third Time

Tenth - Jesus is Stripped

Eleventh - Jesus is Nailed to the Cross

Twelfth - Jesus Died

Thirteenth - Jesus is Taken Down

Fourteenth - Jesus is Laid in the Tomb

Stations Ending

(Click on The World Is My Cloister to return home)

Renewal and Transformation

I cannot quite believe we are here already. The beginning of Lent is always special to me, I long for it and look forward to it. Some may say this is odd, but I have always been that way. I rarely make 'New Year's Resolutions', foreseeing that they will be broken before dark January is past. But, Lent is a time of renewal when deeper changes are more likely to occur. 

The coldness of early spring will transform - bitter wind, sleet, warmth in the sunshine, cold in the shadows. Hopefully, by Easter the sun will shine more often than not, and the rain, when it comes, will fall soft and warm upon the fields. Life will peak through the soil, and bloom in warm corners of the gardens and streets. Renewal at Lent is a natural process, in tune with the seasons, 

I can't say I started Lent well this year. Sure, I got up and went to Mass - listened to the Prophet Joel declare 'rend your heart, not your garments', received the blessed ashes with the call, 'Repent and believe the Good News', but none of it sank in that day. I was busy - just going through the motions. We were packing to go and visit my parents, then his. I was going to cook moules frites for my parents - something which met the rubric of fast and abstinence, but had a celebratory feel for the meeting of loved ones. 

Since then though, Lent has been slowly sinking in. I have been thinking carefully about how to renew and begin again my relationship with God, with my faith, with those around me and with those in need. I have asked myself, 'what is the Good News to be shared?' I can't answer the question, but there are glimpses sometimes, fragments of light that shine and glimmer in the corner of my eye.

The best things in life are simple. This Lent I will more consciously focus on rejecting the materialism I see all around me - the truth of commercialism is that the things we think we need, we do not. Living more simply has become a constant echo in my prayer these days - I recall Oscar Romero's phrase - Aspire not to have more, but to be more. With this in mind I will return to vegetarianism three days a week, a reminder that there are many things we have that are unnecessary.

We have all the time in the world, time enough for life to unfold all the precious things that love has in store. These words keep coming back to me. They were sung, of course, by Louis Armstrong. I remember them from the day I was married. Now, thy repeat like a mantra I should pay attention to. It is all too easy to let the business of this life carry you along. Before the break for half term put a stop to my gallop I was flat out rushing around. Lent reminds me that there is no need for all that. We really do have all the time in the world. Making time for prayer, and time with loved ones are both vital. This Lent I intend to make sure I do both.

CAFOD have their Fast Day this coming Friday. For every pound donated the government will also donate a pound. We will keep this Fast Day in school, serving simple soup and a roll in the canteen at lunch time and asking each student or member of staff to give as much as they can in return for it. I hope that we will raise more than £1000. Again this is a reminder of the call for us to live sustainably ourselves, and care for those with less. 

Admiring the simple things in life has led me to be inventive in the kitchen and garden again. I have been making things for the bath. This time I have made a 'bath melt', full of moisture to make your skin soft. These little melts are made of natural products, and they are inexpensive to make. Now I am gaining more confidence with these types of products I am thinking I could hold a fundraising stall soon, and combine a passion for natural goodness with helping others.

Lavender Tea Bath Melts

Makes 45 bath melts

150g Shea Butter

150g Cocoa Butter

1 sachet of Clipper Sleep Easy Lavender Tea

Dried Lavender Flowers

Lavender Essential Oil

Rosemary Essential Oil

Silicon ice cube moulds (mine were the shape of ladybirds, dragonflies, butterflies and bees)

Place a ceramic basin over a simmering pan of water. Place the two butters into the basin and gently stir them until they are completely melted. Remove from the heat. Cut open the lavender tea bag, and empty its contents into the butter. Add a table spoon of dried lavender flowers. Add 10 drops of Lavender Oil, and 5 drops of Rosemary oil. Stir the mixture. 

Place the silicon moulds on a solid flat tray that fits neatly onto a freezer shelf. Gently pour the mixture into the silicon moulds. Place the tray with the filled moulds into the freezer and cool them for about 30 - 40 minutes. Once set, turn the bath melts out. They can be stored in a kilner jam jar, or some such.

If you use moulds the size of a normal ice cube tray, when running a warm bath place one of these under the tap. The result is a moisturising clear bath, scented with lavender and rosemary. My moulds were larger, so I use just a quarter at a time.

Choose a Patron 2015

Ordinarily I would listen to Ave Maria by Gonoud, Schubert or some such today. I love the fact that the first day of the year is devoted to the Mother of God. It is a reminder that salvation began its path on earth through the fiat of a young woman faithful enough to agree to God's plan for her life. Today, however, I am not at home, but with my husband's family in Yorkshire. He and I are taking care of his elderly grandmother whilst his parents are away. We went for a walk in Yorkshire Sculpture Park this morning, and now, as the wind rises and the rain slants horizontally across the valley, I am going to settle down to some crochet.

However, today is a day to think about direction in life: it is time to take the challenge of choosing a Patron Saint for 2015.

Choosing a Patron Saint for the year used to be a custom amongst religious communities for New Year's Day, and perhaps, in places it still is.  Modernity has caught up with this ancient practise by means of a Patron Saint Generator by Jennifer Fulweiler. 

St Faustina, of Divine Mercy fame, shows that this custom was alive and well in the 1930's with an excerpt from her diary:

“There is a custom among us of drawing by lot, on New Year’s Day, special Patrons for ourselves for the whole year. In the morning, during meditation, there arose within me a secret desire that the Eucharistic Jesus be my special Patron for this year also, as in the past. But, hiding this desire from my Beloved, I spoke to Him about everything else but that. When we came to refectory for breakfast, we blessed ourselves and began drawing our patrons. When I approached the holy cards on which the names of the patrons were written, without hesitation I took one, but I didn’t read the name immediately as I wanted to mortify myself for a few minutes. Suddenly, I heard a voice in my soul: ‘I am your patron. Read.’ I looked at once at the inscription and read, ‘Patron for the Year 1935 – the Most Blessed Eucharist.’ My heart leapt with joy, and I slipped quietly away from the sisters and went for a short visit before the Blessed Sacrament,where I poured out my heart. But Jesus sweetly admonished me that I should be at that moment together with the sisters. I went immediately in obedience to the rule.”

Excerpt from “Divine Mercy in My Soul, the Diary of St. Faustina”

It appears that I forgot to pick a Patron for the Year 2014, I must have been preoccupied - Mr Cloister proposed on New Years' Day. My Patron for 2013 was St. John of God - the one who would do good on impulse. This year, 2015, my Patron will be Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati , a Dominican devoted to the teachings of St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Catherine of Sienna, one who supported the poor and Catholic Social Teaching, opposing Facism and all other political systems that oppressed the weak. I am sure to read more about him as the Year goes on, but that is a good start - I will let you know what other adventures his intercession brings!

Do you dare or care to find a Patron for 2015?  Just click here: Patron Saint Generator. :-) 

My peace I give to you

This time last year I wrote about 'celebrating a future that had yet come to pass', it was busy time and I was running here and there, looking after my parents, travelling to see my loved one in Yorkshire, working in a busy school - but, amidst all of this, there was peace. My reflections revolved around a quote from All This Life and Heaven Too: Faith is the bird that feels the light and sings when the dawn is still dark. I was rejoicing, quietly, in anticipation of a time to come..

This year I am fortunate, peace has been easy to find - not in the past, or the future - but present here and now. 

In January of 2014 Mr Cloister proposed marriage. There have been many Christmas' when he and I have been unable to be together but, this year we have been resting in each others love. And, I was grateful for it. On December 21st we made a short journey to the local village of Fingest, where, in the 12th Century Church we sang traditional carols with the congregation before retiring to the The Chequers pub for free mince pies and mulled wine. So began our first Christmas.   

Christmas Day Mass was at Stonor Park House. The chapel of Holy Trinity, Stonor, is currently being restored, but for the last few weeks Lord and Lady Camoys have been kind enough to invite the congregation into their home. I love turning into the long driveway leading to the house, there are deer in the parkland that surrounds the property, and most specially at the moment, a white hart grazes distinctively amongst the herd. Mass is celebrated in their Hall, a space large enough for 40 people to sit comfortably beside a great roaring fire. It is an historic setting for the celebration on Mass: Edmund Campion hid there, and had his printing press in the attic in 1581, from where he printed his 'Ten Reasons' why people should keep to the faith. Mass has been celebrated here every Sunday, without exception, for 800 years.In contrast to last year, instead of sitting on hospital wards with my parents, we invited them to dinner for Christmas Day. Roast Goose with damson jelly, spiced braised red cabbage, brussel sprouts and  bacon, honey roast carrots and parsnips, roast potatoes, bread sauce and lashings of gravy donned our table; Christmas pudding I prepared in October, served with brandy butter and cream; Irish Coffee; wine, sherry, brandy - all were taken and enjoyed. Red striped candles, homemade napkins, and paper crackers decorated the table. It was beautiful.

The crib took pride of place in our sitting room, two candles lit before it to show the faces of the holy family, the shepherds and their animals; the wise men travelled on the high road, on top of the bookcase. Sometime ago I wrote about a moment, kneeling next to the crib in church I had wondered, as the Christ child reached out a tiny hand, what would happen if I had the courage to hold on? Well, I have an answer now. My peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you.

This year, with a mind to pass on that peace to those I love, I got creative in the kitchen. Not, this time, to make tasty treats, but to indulge in another luxury - the hot, bubble bath! Mixing together essential oils from those herbs which had graced my wedding bouquet I made white solid bubble bath, decorated with rosemary from the garden, and lavender seeds from a hen party gift. Rosemary oil is excellent for beautiful skin, curing headaches, healing bruises, cuts and scratches; thyme oil appeases chesty coughs and helps you to breathe easy and lavender oil cleanses, eases tired muscles and restores. By crumbling a little bar of this deliciousness under hot running water a fragrant heaven in which to contemplate the season was conjured up, and a compulsory hour of solitude and heaven was prescribed. Happy Christmas to everyone!
 
7ml Rosemary Essential Oil
7ml Thyme Essential Oil
7ml Lavender Essential Oil
50ml Castor Oil
210ml Liquid Glycerin
285g Bicarbornate of Soda
210g Cream of Tartar
75g Cornflour
20g Tapioca Flour
165g Sodium Laurel Sulfoacetate
Dried Lavender Seeds
Sprigs of Fresh Rosemary
Rubber gloves 
Greaseproof paper

Pour all the liquid ingredients into a bowl and mix them carefully until they are thoroughly blended (this can take a little while). Sieve each of the dry ingredients into a large bowl, in order. End with the Sodium Laurel Sulfoacetate - this is very fine, and very light, it easily gets down your throat. I did not sieve it, but place the measured amount on top of the other dry ingredients all at once. Put on your rubber gloves, lay out a large sheet of greaseproof paper and dust it with bicarbonate of soda, as you would dust a surface if you were making a pastry. Gently mix the dry ingredients together. Make a well in the centre of the dry ingredients, and pour the liquid into the centre. Gradually, and gently bring together the dry and wet ingredients until they form a soft dough. This does take a little while, use your gloved hands to knead the dough. Turn out the dough onto the greaseproof and continue with your kneading. Use the greaseproof paper to roll the dough, as if it were sushi. Keep rolling it tighter and tighter, until you have a compact sausage shape approximately 8cms round and 40cms long. When you are happy with the shape, use a sharp knife to cut the roll into attractive slices. Place each slice on a greaseproof paper covered baking tray. Decorate each slice with dried lavender seeds and a sprig of fresh lavender. Place the tray of solid bubble bath bars into the 'hotpress' (airing cupboard) for 4 - 5 days. Once they are dry they are ready to use. Crumble them under running warm water to create a bath of fluffy bubbles. Light some candles. 

My peace I give to you. Happy Christmas!

A sojourn in Wales

We got married in the rain. I adore the sound of heaving drops tapping on the roofs when I am warm and cosy inside. Rain, I have always felt, brings many blessings. 

This is just as well, since for the second week of our amazing honeymoon we journeyed into Snowdownia.

I recorded the tale of our best adventure there in the log book:

' After our wedding on the 2nd August Ty Uchaf was our own piece of paradise for the second week of our honeymoon. We spent our first week at St Winifred's Well, a Landmark trust property in Shropshire. Already recharged and full of energy our plan was to set out on some big walks and enjoy the views. We spent our first full day orientating ourselves, looking around Betws y Coed and walking from the house to Llyn Elsi. We weather was mixed on Wednesday and so we headed to Penrhyn Castle - a beautiful and interesting stop. 

Finally on Thursday the day for our adventure arrived. Following local advice we spurned the tourist laden Snowdon trail to Llanberis and drove the short distance to Moel Siabod. We parked at the Cafe by Bryn Glo and turned right onto the road, then took the left hand road over the bridge. Already the walk was beautiful as the path turned steeply upwards. we had been reassured that from the summit it would be possible to view 13 of the 14 peaks of Snowdownia, and at 2950ft Moel Siabod was a majestic challenge. Past an abandoned slate mining village and two beautiful mountain llyns the ridge we were to attempt still rose above us. Moel Siabod was not going to give in easily. 

The path, or route we had to follow, rose steeply upwards and large steps became bouldering challenges! We climbed, scrambled and helped each other along the way. When things looked very tough a man named John and his friendly dog Max appeared. Max only had four short legs so we helped him up a few of the rocks. the company of John and Max helped make a punishing ascent enjoyable. Sadly, not 10 minutes from the summit Max had had enough and he and John turned back. Graham and I soldiered on - and we made it! The view was immense and every bit as spectacular as it claimed to be. We could see clearly all the peaks of the Snowdownia range. We stooped for a short while to celebrate before descending on the shallower north side - not that it was that shallow. Moel Siabod had us scrambling and choosing out footing until we were only a mile from the car. We headed home happy and exhausted, fully deserving of our hot baths and cold wine.

 On Friday I could barely walk! We explored the amazing Swallow Falls and Fairy Glen - both well worth it. we had intended on taking on Snowdon via the Watkins Path on Saturday, but we finally chose a cosy day in admiring the cottage. Sunday came all too soon - we headed to Beddgelert - a beautiful little spot with stunning views all the way. now it is our final evening and Snowdon will have to wait for our return. Ty Uchaf is a special place and a wonderful setting in which to begin your married life. Moel Siabod we salute you!

11 - 17th August 2014'

Winter food was the fayre in Wales - for some reason it is always colder there than anywhere else! But, in the beautiful slate miners cottage 20 minutes hike from a forestry farm track and more than 3 miles form the nearest public road, the huge warm fire and big dinners made Ty Uchaf the cosiest place in all the world.

Honeymoon is, of course, a time of great blessing. It is a time to revel in each other and learn new things about each other. The challenge of Moel Siabod certainly ensured that we both knew what the other is like under pressure! And, we both helped each other. I remember feeling quite tired and scared at some points in the journey, and I am sure that my husband felt the same, but we laughed and joked, and sat and took a few minutes to reflect and recoup our energies to travel the next bit. For all the difficulties the mountain offered I would jump at the opportunity to do it all again. 

On our way to Ty Uchaf we visited the major shrine to St Winifred at Holywell. It was there I discovered that we would have to move home when we returned from honeymoon. I was alarmed by this, and prayed to St. Winifred that everything would work out. I was also nervous about explaining this to Mr. Cloister at first, but when I told him he looked up from his wine glass and said, 'Do you think we could stay here?'

Sadly, we couldn't stay there, but we do have a lovely new home in the country, and having a new place has been good for us. So, I thanked Winifred for he prayers and have made her the patron of our home.

St Winifred's Well

What a place of blessing this truly was!

This is what I wrote in the log book before we left:

'On our Wedding Day, 2nd August 2014, my husband noted that the one thing we had always done together was walk. One thing that we had both done, but separately, was make pilgrimage. Our stay at St. Winifred's marked the beginning of our pilgrimage together. You could not ask for a more beautiful and moving place in which to have the honeymoon of your dreams.  What a start to married life! There is little I could recommend this place that is not self evident from the moment you arrive. This holy well is bustling with life and it restores and refreshes anyone who comes and stays - the log books stand testament to that. Robin, Wren, Sparrow, Mouse and Frog all bid us welcome during our stay. Mr and Mrs Blackbird darted around merrily; and Mr and Mrs Songthrush dedicated themselves to the daily execution of snails - their demise heralded by the regular 'tap tap' of mollusc shells on the walls surrounding the cottage. 

When we felt the need to venture out, a hike up Rodney's Pillar provided excellent exercise astounding views, whilst a day in Shrewsbury illustrated the profound religious history behind St. Winifred, the beautiful Welsh Saint. It is a truly moving experience to see what remains of the Great Abbey in which St. Winifred found her final resting place. A day at home at the well provides the time needed to truly appreciate so special a home - there are deck chairs in the store cupboard and sitting out with tea and one of the many excellent books provided shows this silent retreat at its best. Both Graham and I paddled in the holy water and explored the spring and stream each day. This afternoon we might head to The Navigation Inn - until just soaking up the special atmosphere of a small chapel cottage in the woods is contentment enough. I am sure we will both be sad to leave behind St. Winifred on Monday - but she has lent us an amazing spell of happiness with which to begin our journey together, and so we must thank her and promise to return in years to come. 

4th - 11th August 2014.'

I cannot come close to explaining the peace and beauty of that special retreat in the woods. Each day we were happy to be there, and enjoyed exploring, sitting quietly, reading, talking, listening, watching and walking. We feasted and drank cool wine in the sunshine. I loved it every day.

Of course, part of what made it special was the fact that we were there together to share the joy of it. We prepared our meals together - roast chicken, an amazing bolognese, a mild curry, fresh burgers with sweetcorn, salads and cheese. If we were not chatting quietly we listened the birds chirruping and the wind rustling the leaves on the trees. We sat in front of the crackling open fire, each engrossed in a book, Cadfael for me, The Morville Hours for him, sometimes stopping to read particularly gripping passages to each other. There was not a care in the world. The absence of television, radio, internet wifi and mobile phone signal was as much a welcome blessing as the sounds of the creatures stirring in the undergrowth.

Cloister Honeymoon

In August I married the man I love; we have been working together ever since to build our own family cloister! We have a new home, not far from my work but also close to a Guernsey Dairy Farm, fields and places to have adventures. We have kitted out the kitchen and explored the local greengrocers and butchers. The feasts have been celebrated, every one. And, although we have observed the Friday abstinence from meat, fasting has been non existent as we have settled into our new vocation to journey together till death do us part.

On honeymoon we stayed first in a small wooden framed cottage in the woods near Shrewsbury. It was called St Winifred's Well - the 15th Century hideaway was once a chapel and place of pilgrimage, built above a natural spring that pilgrims came to pray by and bathe in.  You can just see it in the background of the picture to the left. St. Winifred's body had been lain there, they say, when they carried her body from Holywell to Shrewsbury in 1138 - from that night onwards the spring water flowed, famous for its healing powers - most particularly bruises. I was very pleased about this, as I accidentally fell in whilst exploring and looking at Mr. Frog one morning! Winifred's Well was a place of tranquility where you could be with nature and nature could be with you. The bathroom was separate from the house, in the old pig-sty. As there was never anyone around you could run gloriously hot bubble baths and soak with the door open, looking up into the trees and making friends with Mr. Robin and Mrs. Songthrush. I wrote about our beautiful week here in the cottage log book, and you can read my entry a separate post.

After a week relaxing among the trees we were headed for the mountains of Wales. En route we stopped at the UK's oldest place of continuous pilgrimage - St Winifred's Well, Holywell. Since the 7th Century, through bad times and through good, pilgrims have gone to this place to pray and ask for the prayers of St. Winifred. And, well, having just spent a week in the woods learning about her, it would have been rude not to pass by. 

In Wales we stayed in an old slate miners cottage at the top of the mountain, surrounded by sheep. Neither of the cottages we chose to spend the first weeks of marriage in were accessible by road, and both had roaring fires. We had plenty of time to read, chat, cook, eat and explore. We climbed Moel Siabod in Wales - an epic climb you can read about in the diary entry I made to the cottage log book. You can read the entry in a separate post.

Marriage also seems to have brought out my creative side: I have knitted the blanket of my dreams, perfect for winter hibernation. It is made of pure wool from Suffolk sheep. I started the project on honeymoon and finished it only yesterday. Much of the wool was bought with John Lewis vouchers bought as kind gifts from relatives and friends. So, thank you to all of them. I am very proud of our blanket, and Mr. Cloister loves it too.

I attach some pictures, and will write separately about some of our bigger adventures. I hope to get back to writing some recipes soon.

All in all, although the last few months have been very busy, they have been blissfully happy. I hope that you enjoy reading the log entries.

In the meantime,

St. Winifred - Pray for us.