Monday, 17 May 2010

Blanchland, Belsay, Brinkburn, blossom and a Ball

Life is dashing past as speedily as an elderly man on his Harley belting across the Pennine country lanes, dementedly trying to catch up on teen years.

Walking group took us past the Blackett family's Hunstanton Castle and tea at the Errington Arms..... and also week 2 took us to Blanchland & the White Monk tearoom's scones. The moors are coconut scented from the gorse in flower. Lawns are sprinkled with daisies and cherryblossom is drifted in every nook and cranny like bloodied summer snow.



I took advantage of yet another raffle prize win to have my hair done in Bedlington- Had I remembered I would have had it coiffured so beautifully for the PTA Ball at the Gosforth Park.

H1,D1, D3 and I picnicked at Brinkburn where an organ resounded through the priory and a vintage traction engine (Brinkburn Lass)came steaming through.


I have dined at the Pitcher and Piano and Newcastle Arts Centre with 'The Ladies'; lunched at the Piper with H1,D3,P&A, all hoping to see the Newcastle match but to no avail. So we played dominoes for ages & with much hilarity- we are now on a mission to bring back dominoes into pubs.

We have been geet cultured attending the Playhouse (now hidden behind new Newcastle University buildings)to see 'Ministry of Fear'; an excellent production of the '39 Steps' type of genre and method- few actors, basic strange scenery, open wings wherein actors stand motionless till they don yet another guise and take on their 5th or 6th character role.

Eden Camp welcomed us 70years after it welcomed POWs! I will have to go back as I got to a point where I couldn't take in any more. If you have relatives who experienced World War then they would love this place amid Spitfires, ships, submarines, shelters and tanks.


Belsay Hall is holding ' Extraordinary Measures' a series of strange, scaled but really interesting pictures and 'sculptures' amid burgeoning rhododendrons,bluebells and wonderful tulip displays standing to attention to the sound of croquet hammers on the lawn.

No comments:

Post a Comment