Today has been grey and blustery - typically February with some chilly drizzle thrown in for good measure. Tomorrow and Monday are destined to be clear and sunny as a large high pressure zone settles over The British Isles with zero chance of rain according to the weather people.
As it happens, I am home alone because Shirley headed north this morning with four friends to stay in a seaside cottage in Northumberland.
I thought that this might be a good opportunity for me to travel north myself - up to Huddersfield and then just beyond.it. Huddersfield is a large Yorkshire town on the edge of The Pennine Hills. It is about thirty miles from this keyboard and was an important centre for the production of woollen textiles in the nineteenth century.
But like I say, I am heading just beyond Huddersfield to the village of Outlane where I will park Clint before heading off on a long walk that will take in the curiously named village of Scapegoat Hill and a lonesome cemetery at Pole Moor.
I have booked a room in the village's only hotel and on Monday morning I will set off on another somewhat shorter walk that will take in a very curious sheep farm. Stott Hall Farm sits in a parcel of land between the carriageways of the M62 motorway which was constructed in the late 1960's. There is no truth in the myth that this situation occurred because the then resident farmer bravely resisted the wicked motorway planners. It was in fact all to do with the geology of the area.
By the way, I should have checked out the hotel via Trip Advisor reviews before booking my room. Some recent reviews are most uncomplimentary. I guess I didn't bother because it is a "Best Western" and that is usually a sign of decent quality. All will be revealed and it is only for one night.
Ah well. I must get back to the house party. "Hey! Turn the music down!" While the cat's away the mouse will play. "Get your hands off me young lady!"