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I think I’m missing The Fells

It’s been two months now since I set boot on a fell and I’m starting to get a bit edgy about it. I know it’s getting bad because I’ve started noticing a few odd things happening.

I happened to notice a disgusting snotty smear on our back bedroom window. After a great deal of investigation, I found out what it was. By accident, I caught myself staring out of the aforementioned window, nose pressed firmly against the windowpane. From the back window, I can see Skiddaw in the distance. Mystery solved. I’d been gazing longingly. I apologised to our dog, the prime suspect.

On Friday’s I still go to the local newsagent and buy a load of chocolate for the weekend walks, even though I’m not going anywhere. There is nothing better than a Mars Bar at the top after a tough climb. This unfortunate habit might lead nicely to the next point but I don’t think so.

Inexplicably, my hiking trousers have shrunk. The length is still fine but the waist is a little snug, so I’ll have to check the washing machine temperature settings, all very strange.

I’m watching You Tube videos of people walking up Jack’s Rake and anything by Terry Abraham. A bit of timelapse really does it for me.

My hiking boots have disappeared. Nowhere to be found, whoosh gone. That was until my wife came in and told me they were in the garage and she’d tripped over them every day since lockdown began

The weather has been great and that’s really been annoying me. The last couple of days when it’s started raining a bit I’ve been happier. That’s not right. The distant glimpse of Skiddaw with the sun dazzling above forces me to do a Captain Tom and whizz round the garden a hundred times.

I’ve started to reread and annotate all my Wainwright books. How arrogant of me to even think my annotations will add any value to the books, but I’m doing it anyway. Once fully annotated I will leave them in my will to my children. That’s all they’ll be getting if this pandemic carries on any longer.

You can see how useful the comments are, here’s the Binsey page. I have friends called Pete and Heather.

There is a slight bit of craziness settling in, but I have it under control. Although, I might have to sneak up Binsey after dark, disguised as a sheep, before too long.

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