On t'moors

I lost my foot in a smelly, muddy bog today. I waded through knee-high tussocky grass. I nearly lost my sunhat to a sudden gust of wind. I peed behind a tree, and behind a wall. I ate cheese and wild garlic sandwiches behind a wall. Not the same wall. Sitting on a rock. I said baa to a sheep. I gazed at the view. I got two blisters and sore knees.

I walked nine miles in the West Pennine Moors and it was great. It has been a long time since I had a decently long walk, carrying a daysack instead of a baby on my back. Not that I mind carrying a baby, but the daysack was a little lighter than he is and the route we took was a little pathless at times and stumbling about isn't advised when carrying a baby.

Now it's time to put my feet up and savour a well-earned glass of wine. And get organised enough to do it all again soon. I used to walk up mountains all the time. It's how I got to know my husband. But I don't think I'll be going walking with him again. I'm really glad I have good friends. Who could probably do nine miles before breakfast and then get on to a 'proper' walk.