It was a grey Sunday morning when we left the house. Mr. VP had brought me a coffee, two warm croissants and The Sunday Times to bed.  I know, I do have a dream husband.  It was our day off and we were definitely going to make the most of it.

With little promise of the weather getting better (it was forecast to get worse) we set off on a bastle/castle/tower/barmkin hunt around the wilds of Northumberland.  This has become our sole weekend activity, trying to find ruined castles and fortified farmhouses in the middle of nowhere.  It has led us to some wonderful finds, old lime kilns, castles that were once home to kings, and more recently sites of Roman and pre-historic significance.

It was one of these pre-historic places that we were trying to find, when we came across a stone which was as ancient as the hills and full of prehistoric cup and ring marks.  It was absolutely fascinating, but it wasn’t what we ventured out for.  We were looking for Thompson’s Rock, a large stone which sits within a stone circle on a nearby site, and which has a hole bored through a boulder – the hole which, when the sun rises at winter solstice and sets at summer solstice, is perfectly aligned.

We asked a ranger if he knew where it was, and he said it was almost impossible to find it on such a dreary day, but it was nearby.  We didn’t find it, but we did find a mightily beautiful place to sit and contemplate – the Simonside hills.  We climbed the beacon, and were astounded by the views on the top.  It was stunning, absolutely amazing.  If our breaths hadn’t been taken away by the climb, they would’ve been by the view.  Now I know why hill walkers spend hours surmounting these wonderous rocky creatures.  The view.

We sat atop a cairn and had an unmasked, complete view of the land beneath us.  With aching limbs we had earnt this view.  That view.

It’s true that when you put real effort into something you find some kind of peace when you achieve it.  I felt as close to the heavens as I’d ever felt, because we were 1400ft higher than we usually were.

I have loved photographing the landscapes we find ourselves visiting.  We’ve done more adventuring recently than we’ve done for ages – or perhaps ever done.  We pack picnics and wrestle ourselves into waterproofs.  And we find something each time that we would not have found before.  Anything from Saint Ninian to Roman forts, megaliths and pre-historic art.  I have to thank my mother for finding a book that got us both started on this path.

35mm film is my favourite visual media.  I love it.  Some say that it’s outdated compared to digital methods, but even the most expensive digital-SLR pales in comparison to film.  No amount of technology on a CMOS chip can capture the depth and quality that a little bit of 35mm film can. Depth of field is richer, colours truer and, just like records are to CDs, 35mm is slightly imperfect compared to the perfect images that a digital SLR gives.

About 5 years ago I was desperate for an SLR camera, and I found one on eBay.  Mr. VP bought it for me.  I think it cost us £14, it came with 3 lenses and the postage cost us nothing (even though it cost the seller more than we paid in total).  The lenses on their own are worth more than the camera. That summer (back in 2004) I fell in love.

The camera itself weighs 1.2kg/ 2.6lbs (so you cannot wear it around your neck!), it’s solid steel, it is around 35 years old and I call him Soviet (because it looks like something from the USSR).  The camera itself is a re-badged Chinon CX and takes the best photos in the world.

We visited a local country park in the week, before the torrential rain came, and went for a long walk around the man-made lake there.  At around 8pm it was lovely; swans, geese and ducks all sat on the water.  It was quiet apart from the odd dog-walker and I got the chance to take some really good photos.  Soviet and I had fun.

The camera being an SLR means that although I don’t have a screen to review photos, I can tell what they’re going to look like before I take the shot.  Many a time I’ve taken photos on my digital camera and thought they looked alright, only to find them disappointing when I got back home.

Part of the fun for me is waiting for the films to be developed, too.  I think I know what they’re going to be like, but you never really know until you have an envelope full of photos handed back to you.  The places where you can get photos developed now are sadly few and far between, and many of the highstreet places charge exorbitant fees.  My two favourites are Asda (they use Fujifilm processes and only come in lustre/matt – my favourite) and Jessops (the same processess, slightly more expensive).  Avoid Klick! at all costs.

I am trying to use at least 1 film a week, to document new places we visit and to get back into honing my photographic skills.

So far…  I think I’m doing alright.

{apologies for the picture quality, my camera’s battery ran out of juice so these are taken on my phone!}

This is my chance to show off the one thing I’ve wanted to make for ages.  It’s not the most beautiful, nor the most technically amazing quilt, but it is warm, snuggly and a lot of blood, sweat and tears have gone into it’s making.  I have sat for hours at my little Janome machine, sewing away old Crusader squares and bits of fabric, until last night when it was finished enough to be useable.  So last night we dispensed (temporarily) with our goose-feather and down duvet and slept under our new quilt.

We both slept well.

I still have to finish the joining of 3 layers which will be done with ribbon/thread ties instead of being machine quilted, to keep it fluffy.

It looks pretty amazing if I do say so, and the fabric was almost all charity-shop finds/ stash reduction.

Quilting hasn’t been my only sewing adventure of late.  I am wearing my own creation – a Burda top (improvised in places) and have even made myself a skirt too.  I’m rather enjoying being able to make clothes for myself that fit and look good!  I’m not a great seamstress – not like my mother who is very good and precise, but I am surprising myself with my creations.

I haven’t been to the beach for a while, but I could do with getting out of the house.  Work that had become a haven for me has become the inevitable chore that I feared it would become.  Though I still work, and at times I still love it, with the oppressive heat of Summer comes the oppressive feeling of work.  This 6 day a week thing has to come to an end sooner or later.

It thundered here the other day.  Big bolts of lightning knocked out part of our electricity at work and we were plunged into gloom for an hour or so.  I loved hearing it rumble overhead.

I think the reason that work is stifling me at the moment is because I am not sure I’m heading in the direction that I should be heading in.  The Company I Work For doesn’t seem to be keeping it’s promises.

I took a couple of days off this weekend, 3 1/2 days off in total, and having a whole day to myself to do nothing but mundane things like housework has been bliss.  Yesterday I did what I used to do – I tore the living room to shreds and cleaned every single surface.  I dusted, vacuumed, mopped and burnt incense.  I watched a DVD and played with the cats, before cooking dinner and doing some sewing.

This morning I decided that we were going to hunt bastles, castles and pele towers in the depths of Northumberland.  So Mr. VP and myself did just that.  We found castles, ruined and occupied, we saw parts of Northumberland so breathtakingly beautiful we had forgotten such beauty was on our doorstep.  We picnicked beside ancient ruins of Harbottle castle and sat inside the Solar wing of another, much more stunning castle.

What else have I been upto?  I’ve been making some of my own clothes.  It’s liberating being able to make the things you wear, and whilst I haven’t quite got onto jeans yet, I’ve made 1 top (in the most amazing Amy Butler fabric) and am making a skirt as we speak.  My secret is John Lewis.  If you have one near you, you’ll never be without wonderful sewing equipment.

We had our 3rd wedding anniversary in the middle of June, on the solstice, and it was a rather magical event.  Simply being together 3 years and realising that it has been all that time, yet no time at all, all at once.

There are lots of other things I still have to tell, but for now this will have to do.  Better late than never, eh?