Once in a blue moon

As I watched the star in the south west [Jupiter I think] shining bright despite the approaching dawn I looked and longed for a moon, to give light in the darkness of the pre-dawn if nothing else. And on Thursday it was there, casting its long shadows, bright enough to expose my horrifically slow running up to Kingscliff but not bright enough to outshine Jupiter.

The moon is amazing, watching it rise above the Moelwyn, falling into the heather, and the bog, on Illkley Moor at least until Martin and I were moved on my armed police [who were looking for someone else]; and so many other times and places. Yet it is 31st December 2009 that remains with me. It was one of my last runs in Purton, I took my usual route around the edges of the village and, as usual, I left before dawn under the light and shadows of the moon and watched its spectacular setting. It was only after I had returned, running into the newly risen sun that I discover that I had been running under a blue moon. A Blue Moon is, under one definition, the thirteenth blue moon in a calendar year, which means that the next blue moon will be 2028. Once indeed... under a blue moon.

It's worth rising at such unearthly hours to see the planets and the sun, the rising and the setting. Tomorrow will be another early start, and yet another attempt to work my way west to east across Hodders Combe. I have so far tried three times and got hopelessly lost. Not that it really possible to get lost. You follow the rivers downstream and get to Holford, upstream and you hit the moor, but I haven't managed to head due east to Holcombe. If it does work it will enable the completion of a run which will make the Quantock Beast look like a fluffy mouse.

It's good to continue the dawn running; it keeps me sane. Time will tell whether I can continue to sustain everything on top of the teaching [wonderful but exhausting], but for the time being it's all good. Once in a blue moon, such opportunities do arise.

Return to Dawn

There was only the vaguest glimpse of dawn in the east when I left the house at 5.30am this morning, to the west the stars were still shining and under the trees of Kingscliff the night still lingered. When I reached the top of the woods and looked up over the hills towards Broomfield and then headed back down west the land was grey. It was only back in the fields of North Petherton that the sun emerged in all of its glory, the start of an amazing day.

It's starting teaching and the need to be in school by 8am that's forcing me to rise at silly o'clock; really crazy - 6am used to me my standard. But although I miss the newly risen sun on the trees and flowers [pictured from June], returning to predawn
dusk has it's own very special atmosphere, almost mystery.

It is a good preparation for a day spent in the classroom. Would that I could get exercise and sleep, but with only one on offer, I'll go for a run any day!

BTW - school is great, amazing teachers, children just as good. It's worth the paperwork.

3 week holidays

After a 24 hour break it was time for something longer. It was my first boss, Colin Jones, Dean of Cape Town, who recommended that everyone at the Cathedral should have one three week holiday a year. It takes about five days to fully disengage and unwind and then another few days to prepare to return to the mad house of home and work; but if you have three weeks then you actually have a decent amount of time to enjoy your holiday. And our three week holiday, once again in an old stone house in the wilds of Snowdonia, set between the mountains and the sea, was once again, wonderful. I have been going to the valley and the house since I was a few weeks old and it is as miraculous, beautiful and restorative now as it has always been.

We climbed mountains, I swam off just about every beach and in almost every river and lake that I could, while the children said 'silly Daddy' and Jane read her book. We taught the children to gamble [with matchsticks] and Jane played games of cards, again and again and again... We saw castles and towns and beaches and tortured a fair few crabs. We enjoyed great food and wine and sat for hours around the fire with family and friends and I [just] failed to get up and down Cnicht in an hour [PB 64mins 55secs]. It was a good holiday in an amazing place in with we actually did very little.

Back at home I am now trying to read two very long reports on the Primary Curriculum so that I can write a rather short essay. The joys of being a student again!

24 hour holidays

I've done it once before, in the Lakes, and this was just as good. I often enthuse about 3 week holidays and one is about to begin for us. Yet 24 hour breaks are in some ways just as good. Adam and I reached Pontrhydryfen or Pont-rhyd-y-fen [does how you write it alter how you pronounce it? I think that it does, but am not sure... any Welsh speakers out there] at about 6.15pm, Vicky gave the kids their tea and then we headed up the river [pictured] and, what a surprise, I ended up in the water and then Nick followed [also hardly surprising]; the children wouldn't go above their knees, at least not deliberately. It was as wnderful as it looks.

We got back to Dr Who, and later good food and wine and company. The next morning Nick and I headed out at 7 up into the Forest www.afanforestpark.co.uk . After about 2 miles of steady uphill, with little talking, I said, 'You're setting a fast pace' to which Nick replied, 'I'm just keeping up with you'. 'Shall we slow down? ...No.' Or at least not until we got to slopes that were not designed to be run, except by the seriously fit, and insane.

We headed off the the yard and the Ponies and then on to Big Pit www.museumwales.ac.uk/en/bigpit which was one of the most amazing and most powerful museums that I have ever been to; terrifing, awesome, moving, tragic, great for both adults and kids and so many, many stories; and the guides [all former miners] have the most wicked, dry sense of humour. But the idea that 10 year olds spent 12 hours a day, 50 weeks a year in the pitch black is one that is hard to forget, as is the pride of the miners and their vivid memories of the pits and their closure. I'd recommend it to anyone.

Fish and Chips came next before driving home. A great 24 hour break.

Quantock Beast Route

Our wonderful Running Club President has just put up a link to the Quantock Beast route - which I few of you have asked me for. It is:
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/40920958?sms_ss=facebook
I don't know whose the times are, but current PB for the route is 44.40, without the gates being opened for me. If you're going to do it at the moment, watch out for ticks.

Sunset

Having time to play around with paint and board is something that I will have less time for soon [along with time to make ice cream and head up the the heights of the Quantocks and more]. Yet this is one result of my messing around with oils; Sunset.

Hopscotch

The blog has got rather lost over the last few weeks amidst broken toes [well, just one of them], my first essay for my training as a teacher, painting, gardening, running [I did the Quantock Beast in 44.40] and the wonderful heat. The garden is coming on, the flowers and the veg; and the maze, tree house, zip wire and swings. And I realised that amidst all of the 1970's concrete that plagues the garden there was a line of paving slabs that could lend themselves to hopscotch. So with a few paints we created this... it does start at one, and in fact ends at 12.