As I don't have a washing machine, I make periodic visits to the launderette in Skipton. The staff at the one I go to are wonderful, and very helpful and also very friendly. This time I took almost my complete wardrobe in to wash. On the way there I dropped off about 10 bags at the local charity shop, mainly for rags. And when
we returned home I was able to put my clean clothes in two fewer pieces of furniture, which were whisked away before I could change my mind.

We had a good day, because not only did I get a lot more space, but I also rearranged my bedroom and now it is spacious and bright. My dog, Fair, who has a tendency to be startled by the unknown, took one look and ran back downstairs in a panic. When she finally came up, somewhat reluctantly, she cowered between the wardrobe and the chest of drawers, before tentatively approaching the bed, and suddenly realising it was the same one she had slept under the previous night, rushed under it and went to sleep.

Not only do all my dogs sport nice white paint patches still, they also have bits of render and cement in their fur. Brillo likes to christen anything new and cannot resist rushing over newly-laid concrete, just to leave her footprints for posterity. My brother chases her with shouts of outrage. The dog at least considers this a great game.

Finally, I have most of my books inside, and I am sorting them out as I put them in the newly-erected bookcase. Some of my favourite pictures are now hanging on the walls. It is like greeting old friends to have them around me again.

This week I went down to Rutland for a family wedding. It was a warm, misty morning when I set off, and the mist was tinged with the colours of sunrise. I looked over to the Mire and my solitary sycamore tree was just visible, standing like a sentinel above the white of the mist. As I drove down into the valley, everything was shrouded, and when I got to Blubberhouses, the rocks were shyly emerging from their misty comforters and looked most dramatic and moody. As I came to the Vale of York, the hilltops were showing and the mist started to evaporate. It began to brighten and the rest of my journey revealed the countryside in all its splendour.

The wedding was delightful. Two lovely young people, very much in love, with good music and members of the family I hadn't seen for years. I caught up with all the family news and had a great time. I ate too much, and when the disco started I decided to head for home, making it in record time. There was little traffic and I had a clear run, and got back before 11.

Most of my journey had been through very flat countryside, and as I got back to the Dales, I sighed with relief to see the familiar and stark terrain of the hills. Rutland was very pretty, with beautiful and charming villages, but I prefer the hills of home. The dogs were ecstatic to see me, as though I had been gone for weeks. They had the company of my brother and niece for the day, so were well looked after,
but obviously I was the one they wanted.

The spell of good, but almost autumnal, weather has enabled the farmers to get in most of their hay.

The nights are rapidly drawing in, and over the past week there have been tractors working in the fields well into the night. It was a case of make hay while the moon shines.

Once again we are being hit by thieves all over the Dale. Sooner or later they are going to get caught, and when they do I hope the magistrates make an example of them. I note any unusual vehicle or activity, just in case it could be of use. I was a little surprised when I was told that groups of men were roaming in camouflage gear, over the area. Apparently they were not members of our armed forces, I suspect they were just playing at soldiers, but I wish they would do it somewhere else.

There has been quite a bit of shooting going on the land around mine. I have not noticed any decline in the rabbit population, but there is a covey of partridge that make a bee line for my fields the moment it starts. They are clever enough to know they are safe here.

Throughout the fine days I can occasionally see a wisp of cloud or mist snuggling round the crags. It makes for a varied landscape. It soon dissipates or collects at the next high point. While there seems to be no wind, which in itself is pretty unusual here, somehow air currents find and move these little parcels of cloud around in no apparent order or direction. I am sure there is an explanation, I just haven't worked it out yet. I expect it is to do with the heat in the rocks or ground.

Meanwhile, life jogs on much as usual. Finally some of my hens have started to lay a few eggs again and the goose I missed for two days and hunted for, has miraculously reappeared. I suspect she found shelter in the reeds of the Mire. I have noticed a family of young rats has emerged from the walls of one of the barns, and I have had to put more rat poison down. You will never eliminate them, I know that, but it is wise to keep the numbers down.

There is, at the moment, no sign of the moles that usually abound. I am sure they will return and dig molehills in numbers soon. Somewhere nearby an owl is in residence because I can hear it hooting at night.