Petrichor

Petrichor (n.): The smell of earth after rain.

We’ve had weeks of unseasonably hot and sunny weather since a few days into the Easter break. Everyone here has a tan (must buy more sun cream). We’ve eaten outdoors and lounged around in the garden. Doors and windows have been open. It’s been pretty blissful if I’m honest.

But there’s always that knowledge that it has to end, and yesterday it did.

Just a bit of light drizzle as we headed out to school, which turned into a rain shower before stopping again. The temperature dropped like a stone. I welcomed the change in weather because I’d taken a quick walk the previous morning and spotted bluebells and other wildflowers in the woods and along the lanes and footpaths. I don’t like taking pictures in bright sunlight, so the prospect of a bit of gloom appealed.

I like to walk around Heptonstall because you can wander around the village itself, all cobbles and winding paths and hidden shortcuts. But then there are open fields, wooded walks and rocky outcrops with sweeping views out across the valley and beyond.

It was good to be out after the rain. Everything was fresh again and the landscape is slowly turning green. On Skye this used to be the bracken colouring the landscape; here, it’s the trees.

Back home in the garden I’ve been keeping an eye on developments. The vegetable patch is badly overrun with brambles and dandelions - the owners want to call and dig them up - but I don’t mind the dandies too much. They attract a lot of bees, so my philosophy in this case is to live and let live.

I had to cover an old water butt with a sheet of glass (from a broken cold frame), as there seem to be a few ladybirds drowning in it. There was a bit of a ladybird hospital on the go at the weekend. The recovery rate wasn’t great.

Much of what’s growing is scratchy bushes like hebe and various conifer-type things. There’s a camellia next to the garage but I’ve never really liked them - the flowers seem to go brown too quickly, and I’m not keen on those glossy-leaved shrubs like rhododendrons and azaleas. I did collect a lot of forget-me-nots though, and did a little photo session in the house (dark backdrop, north-facing window etc).

The plan is to get some plants collected and pressed ready for printmaking.

The etching press is currently in the garage and the cat keeps sitting on it. When I first bought it, he followed me into the workroom, walked over a load of wet ink then launched himself onto the felt and covered it with purple paw prints. So there’s a history there.

I’ve noticed a few rust spots on the roller, so will need to give it a rub down with some abrasive stuff. But the draughtsman’s desk Jay renovated is in there too, perfect for a printmaking table. I’m thinking it should be fine as a workroom for the summer (and, hopefully, early autumn if it comes to it). There are shelves and windows but a lot of piled-up detritus too which we had to bring with us as the move was so short notice we had no time to purge.

Every time I go in the garage planning to make myself a space I poke about a bit then walk out again defeated and deflated. Much of the stuff that needs moving is heavy and bulky.

But I’m feeling the effects of my morning coffee - and am incredibly sensitive to caffeine - so hopefully I’ll still be fired up in a little while and I can go in there and give it another go.

We did a bit of volunteering at the weekend, helping clear the river banks down the road. Joe enjoyed himself, which was the main aim of it for us. I was pretty appalled at the sheer amount of wet wipes. We found bits of plastic and tins and the odd sock or glove, but wet wipes are evil. I’ve always used them ever since Joe was a baby, and he takes one to school every day in his lunch box to wipe his hands. But they refuse to die. They literally last forever, don’t break down at all and just get caught up in tree roots and in the soil, thousands of them. Once you spot one you suddenly start seeing just how many there are, ragged and washed (relatively) clean by the weather and the river, but still there.

Apparently they can take up to a hundred years to biodegrade. So from now on I’m buying the eco friendly, compostable ones.

Speaking of water - precipitation in this case - we had a real deluge last night. I like to be indoors listening to the rain. Obviously, the snails and slugs will emerge and I’ll have to keep an eye on the strawberries.

We have currants growing outside, the rhubarb’s getting massive, and I’ve found several places locally with whinberry bushes (the title picture at the beginning of this post). I thought Skye would be covered in them, what with all the moorland and acidic soil, but I never found a single one. So it’ll be nice to resurrect our old August tradition of picking the tiny purple-black berries and staining our hands violet.

On Saturday morning we went into Halifax properly for the first time. We had a look around the Victorian market hall which was very impressive and ornate. It reminded me of childhood trips to Accrington, where we’d buy various things like egg custards and cooked meat, colourful boiled sweets and bits of haberdashery.

Being an old textile town there’s a lot of beautiful architecture built on the vast proceeds of industry. We went to the Piece Hall - again, impressive - and perused the lovely bookshop and antiques places then had drinks at a table in the square. With the sunshine, it almost felt like we were on holiday in some European city.

Yes, I know it’s Halifax but I can dream. We’re still watching The Durrells and I continue to pine for the Greek Islands. I’ll take what I can get.

I did come away with Country Living Modern Country magazine (pricey but worth it) and a 1970s stoneware breadbin. The latter was a snip at £5 and it matches a utensil jar I already have.

Still no Hornsea ‘Heirloom’ teapot. The quest continues. I refuse to turn to eBay. Yet.

Joe got his haircut last week and looks much better for it.

The following day (Friday) we had a barbecue and sat outside for hours. I’m starting to worry about how ‘essential’ a south-facing garden is becoming in our must-have list. Buying a house in Hebden Bridge on a reasonable budget - not too modest, but not huge - you’re lucky to get any outside space at all.

We don’t want to live right in the centre anyway and are looking at outlying villages but there are always going to be compromises. Outside space isn’t one of them, regardless of aspect. There’s still very little coming onto the market just yet, which means there’s a lot of interest in anything new. Many are going to best and final offers.

Maybe we need Kirsty and Phil. Although the thought of appearing on TV horrifies me.

OK, I think I’ve rambled on enough.

I’m off to Sowerby Bridge tomorrow as my test prints are ready (for the fine art prints I want to have made). If they’re any good I need to find somewhere to get an embossing stamp, and then come up with a logo. And I will have a go at clearing a workspace in the garage this morning, because I need to get printing and selling my work as soon as possible. There have been emails coming in, asking when I’ll have more prints for sale.

My sketchbooks are slowly filling up - the plan is to make some more designs for lino prints - so I also need to get some more lino ordered. And the boxes of inks and tools need bringing down from the attic.

Still, we have a long weekend coming up and I’ve got to isolate from Saturday (Covid swab) as I’ve got a procedure next week in hospital. So no excuses for not getting things done.

Have a great bank holiday - it’s almost May!