Day to day musings of a cat minder/ sitter in North Tyneside and Newcastle upon Tyne . For details of services go to http://www.catminders.biz

Welcome to CatMinders

Welcome to CatMinders

Thursday, 17 July 2008

The Graveyard .

The church
The graveyard in front of the parsonage .
I wish it were possible to capture in a single shot just how many graves are packed into that graveyard , all piled up and squashed on top of each other . And its also not possible to get in a picture that the graveyard is situated right in front of the parsonage . Imagine waking up every morning and looking out onto all those graves . I know cemetaries and graves can be very peaceful and restful . Situated behind a house , and set in well cut lawns , where you can wander with flowers and sit and read , or ponder life and its vagaries , I would agree . But not this . Not this mass and pile of stone and slabs and well , death and reminders of mortality , in front of you every single day .


The Brontes themselves are buried in the church rather than here .
And yet visiting the parsonage and Haworth itself is anything but dispiriting . I would return tomorrow . Happily spend a week renting one of the cottages that overlooks the graveyard , just to see how it feels . Wierd or what ?


The Bronte Parsonage



Monkey faints as Ms CatCalls takes the Wheel and heads for Grasmere

Alice prefers me in the back seat ....
Monkey faints as I take the wheel

Its official ... we are back . Though I am still ( officially at least ) in Denial .

Despite the rain ( second half of trip ) I would have still have given my eye teeth or something to have had six weeks or maybe even six months tootling about in the camper van seeing this and that .

Alice had a preference for D driving . The monkey certainly did , and D noted that when he was behind the wheel the cool box .. well , say no more .

We started where we meant to , in Bronte country , where the sun shone and the graves and the parsonage were grim but wonderful . I recommend Haworth to all . Photographs will follow , perhaps ad nauseum , who knows .

Alice caught a rabbit as we stumped across the moors where those skinny little Brontes walked to the waterfalls , allegedly on a daily basis , but let it go on command and as she seemed to be holding it very carefully and not a drop of blood was seen , it hopped off quickly and we assumed all was well . Though our hearts were pounding and Alice was all agog and her teeth chattering much as when she sees a steak pie up ahead .
More to follow ....

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