Why I am here!

Prompted by the squabbling 'kids with no names' on the Westmorland Gaz forum topic - Cumbria - A tribute to Ian Boydon who is one of the few of us that are 'Real'.

I'm not so attracted to Cumbria as to Ulverston in Cumbria.

I've left here twice and arrived thrice.

It's a combination of the size and its location!

(as I write, I am standing back and asking "Why am I writing this ?" - and I realise it's a bit like writing a diary but here I'm being prodded to think by other people!)

Yes Ulverston, Cumbria - size and location - as my ad for The Falls used to say "where the moors and the mountains come down to the sea"

12,000 population is a magic number and I'm sure that Glaxo attracted positive active people who made a great mix with a population that had deep roots and were comfortable with things as they've 'always' been.

And rain - I love it!

If its cold lashing rain it pelts my face so that it tingles (and it feels really good to get inside that front/back door and shelter withing two foot thick walls and behind a door that has been there for 150 years a feeling of sanctuary within an old friend that has been built for ever with a lot of thought (The Falls).

I love the greenery the rain produces - contrast with Walnut Creek near San Francisco where the land is always dull, lifeless brown.

When you've lived in America you appreciate the pronominal variety of the skyscape here - many varieties of clouds in subtle colours and you learn how boring to have blue skies every day - yuk!

Then I find that its magical to have the smells and wildlife that emerge as you walk out after the rain.

In drizzle I enjoy the raindrops on flowers and running down the branches, twigs and leaves of trees.

In a real downpour the excitement of getting absolutely drenched when just trying to make it across the road (here I remember trying to cross Sautergate at the bottom with streams running down both gutters) and the feeling of the water sloshing about in my shoes - what the hell - I can get back to my home - these days in the warm central heating - in the old days crouched up to the anthracite cast iron stove - put "French stove" into Google

and the first three pictures will show you one we brought it over with us when we escaped back to Britain before 'The War' - no not the first!!


Having got back to 'safety' - strip all those clothes off, have a bath (for luxury) or just a thorough rub down and back into fresh dry clothes ready for the next adventure.

Wow, have I waxed lyrical .

See ya.