Tag: nature

Stepping out

I’m determined to up my steps each day so I hit the magic 10,000, a figure dreamed up by a marketing campaign but not a bad one to aim for.

It’s the equivalent of 3.9 to 4.9 miles, depending on your stride length, speed and height.

I walk a couple of miles every day with the dogs but it’s not quite far enough, so I need to add a section at the beginning and end of the day to cover it.

Or otherwise achieve 7,000 steps every day, which the experts say is enough, especially when combined with some real bursts of energy.

I like what the British Heart Foundation has to say about walking: To boost the health benefits, aim to walk at a brisk pace, meaning you can talk comfortably but would be too out of breath to sing.

As someone who had a surprise heart attack ten years ago when I was fifty-four, that hits home.

Having had a bit of a slothful week of editing, where I mostly exercise my fingers while sitting at a laptop, I know I need to keep my body moving to improve my general fitness.

There’s more I can do but this is a good start. I’m not one for the gym or joining a class, preferring my own company and that of the dogs. I’m not an introvert exactly, and certainly not an extrovert but more of an omnivert, apparently.

Maybe I should lift a few weights next, or schedule my own personal dance class in the confines of my own home. Perhaps I should ask my old friend, over-50s fashion and lifestyle blogger Gail, at Is This Mutton?

All suggestions gratefully received.

In any case, eating more healthily and not drinking so much alcohol should help me achieve my goals.

I have a ‘health’ app on my phone but I don’t think it’s very accurate. I walked 3,790 steps this morning and several hours later it’s not showing any increase, even though I’ve got the phone in my pocket so steps around the house and up the stairs ought to count.

So I’ve ordered a ‘non-smart’ pedometer watch to help me in my quest.

It’s non-smart because I don’t want a watch to pay bills or receive calls and messages. For me, it’s better to be away from all that constant interruption, hence the need (I think) for a simple pedometer which also tells the time.

Along with that, I want to eat more healthily, cut down my alcohol intake and engage in constructive pursuits when I’m not reading and writing, rather than doom scrolling on my phone or laptop and getting depressed by a word gone mad.

I want to learn and see new things, whether it’s visiting an art exhibition or getting a close-up view of a golden beetle. I want to hear and identify birdsong and possibly learn the ukelele, although I don’t think I’m quite ready for that just yet.

Maybe just soak up the beauty of nature, as and when it happens. Live in the moment.

So there you go, those are my May resolutions – what are yours?

Have a great weekend.

Love, Maddie x

In a galaxy far, far away…

We were sitting there, out in a French garden last Friday, listening to the sound of a midwife toad (look them up, they’re incredible).

(The noise they make is more like a scops owl, but it doesn’t show up on the Merlin bird app on my phone for the obvious reason that a toad is not a bird.)

Anyway, Mr Grigg began regaling the barbecue guests with a story about a very low aeroplane we’d watched in the sky one afternoon earlier in the week.

It went into a cloud and we had followed its trajectory, the two of us fully expecting it to come out the other side.

But it didn’t, which led me to suggest a Bermuda Triangle-type theory in which the plane used the cloud as a time and space portal to disappear into a different world.

I relayed this to the others, who were a bit non-plussed by this explanation, with one of them even humming the tune to The X-Files and another doing an impression of a cuckoo.

So I zoned out and gazed up at the night sky, which is my wont, while they discussed UFOs and other dimensions. In my own head, the theme music for Stranger Things was playing loudly, drowning out their scorn.

And that’s when I saw it, a long line of lights moving slowly towards the little full moon, which was about to appear above a tree.

I savoured the moment for a few milliseconds and then said calmly: ‘What’s that up there?’

All eyes turned to the sky. We watched this strange phenomenon for a minute or two as it traversed its night stage, seemingly on some otherwordly mission above our heads. We were transfixed.

By the time I took out my camera from my jeans pocket, the sight was dimming and so were my photography skills because I was so excited.

After the thing left our field of vision, silence ensued, followed by a feverish conversation about what we’d just witnessed.

It took me another five minutes to retrieve something from the back of my mind and to declare the thing we’d just seen was the Starlink satellite train. I’d heard about it once on the radio and had always wanted to see it, and now I had.

It’s operated by SpaceX, whose driving force is a strange man I do not like. I refuse to name him so my blog doesn’t get launched in to the outer atmosphere but just think of Batman gone bad and you’ll know who I mean.

That aside, we all rely on the internet these days, so the Starlink satellites have a job to do and, when you read up on it, you realise that there is so much in this world we do not understand.

And why am I telling you this? Because you need to know.

Also, the thing in the sky looked very like a Star Wars lightsaber moving gracefully across the universe. And as today is May the Fourth and I always put down my religion as Jedi on the census, I felt I needed to share that with you.

Have a great week.

Love, Maddie x

Let’s See What The Earth Has To Say

Today is Earth Day, an annual event aimed at supporting the environment.

But is it the day when individuals and companies can declare their love for the earth while ‘greenwashing’ their personal and corporate credentials?

Lordy, the problems facing the planet are massive and what can we, as little people, do to make a difference?

Well, we can cut down our consumption and go for renewables where possible. But all that is fraught with problems, paradoxes and gobbledygook. One man’s electric car utopia is another person’s complex environmental footprint.

Back during covid times, it was a terrible period for many. But some of us were living our best lives in glorious weather and with no vapour trails in the sky nor traffic on the roads.

Here’s a video by my friend Emma Gale, from her debut single Let’s See What The Earth Has To Say, written in and inspired by lockdown.

Back then we were all kind to each other, knowing our daily lives had changed massively.

But that love for one another didn’t last very long. Humans became angrier and nastier as a species, led by self-serving, arrogant politicians, many of whom were in it for their own gain.

We became cynical and mean about everything.

And still it continues. Callous and flippant put-downs, lies and an insatiable desire for personal wealth have become common currency for world leaders.

So, on Earth Day, how can we put our fragile planet at the forefront of everything we do?

Protest and lobby when and where we can (and when it’s safe to do so) but not through futile, silly arguments with acolytes of megalomaniacs. That way insanity lies.

The only thing I can suggest is to immerse ourselves in the natural world and and get out in the garden to plant and nurture something in peat-free compost. And teach our children (they could teach us a thing or two for sure) the importance of kindness, courtesy and care for others.

Earth Day feels so massive. But it’s about baby steps, small big things to make – and be – the change.

It’s the best we can do.

See you later in the week.

Love, Maddie x

How did you use that extra hour?

It’s the day after the clocks went back and it’s one of those Sundays that seems to have gone on and on.

I was up early and did all the ironing, fed the dogs, order a dog harness, water bowl, poo bags and three motion sensor lights for the landing, made a pot of tea, scored eight on my daily popquiz – Popquizza.com – and finished an episode of The Rest Is Politics US before the clock showed seven-fifteen.

By eight o’clock, I’d walked the dogs and was ready for breakfast.

I’ve managed to tick loads of things off my to-do list, although by three o’clock this afternoon I was flagging and the dogs were doing circles because they were so hungry.

Mr Grigg has dug up four lots of leggy lavender for me to replace, and there is more planting to come.

I’ve also gone mad with the bulbs again, ordering with gay abandon from Farmer Gracy and then bricking it when a massive box the size of Matabeleland arrived on the doorstep with a smug look on its face.

It’s half term in Dorset this coming week but no doubt the weather will be dreadful, so the chance of me finding room for 90 narcissi bulbs is pretty remote.

Two years ago, I ordered so many tulips I had to enlist the support of Number One Son and the tiny grandson who waddled around in dear little wellies and was armed with a lethal dibber.

We managed to plant them all but, of course, I was away when they flowered, so I missed the lot.

With just five days of October left, it’s been a busy month.

And now the nights are darker, it’s time for slowly simmered stews, log fires and a ridiculous binge on all four series of Stranger Things to remind myself of the plot and premise before the new one drops at the end of November.

I’m going to try to pull my socks up and blog at least twice a week, but as my late mother used to say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

That’s about it.

Maddie x

The autumn equinox

It’s the autumn equinox, the time of year that looks ahead to the dark days and nights of winter, and glances back, just a little bit wistfully, to the glory days of June, July and August.

Here in the northern hemisphere, it’s the last day of summer – autumn has finally arrived. For friends and family in the southern hemisphere, it’s reversed, so it’s the first day of spring.

Confusingly though, for meteorologists, autumn begins on 1 September, making the autumn months September, October and November.

On the equinox, day and night are roughly 12 hours long.

In the agricultural calendar, we have to wait until Michaelmas – 29 September – for the quarter day.

Years ago, a traditional meal for Michaelmas was goose, raised in the stubble fields. If you were a tenant farmer, you might have given the goose to your landlord. Which is a shame, because you, being poor, probably needed it more than them, being rich and powerful.

Still, it was ever thus.

But whatever you do, don’t pick blackberries after Michaelmas because apparently it’s the day the Devil spits on them.

Whatever, whenever, the equinox marks that turning point of the seasons.

School has started, university freshers’ weeks are upon us and it’s a time of change.

Short sleeves and flimsy linen dresses are put back in the cupboard, but within easy reach should we get an Indian Summer in October, and the DM Chelsea boots are given a spit and polish and you thank goodness that years ago you bought the ones with zips now that you’re finding it ever harder to pull them onto your feet.

It’s a time of discovery, when you find you actually do have more coats and jackets than there are days of the week and, in actual fact, they’re not bad, not bad at all.

It’s a time to top up the wood pile, order the heating oil and start knitting again.

Cosy nights in, stews that stick to your ribs and cocoa instead of coffee.

Watching some brilliant drama – old favourites like the latest series of Slow Horses, due any moment now, and the finale of Stranger Things, where the child actors are now grown up but the story is still (I hope) as gripping, and then new shows too, which will unfold as the months unfurl.

Curling up with a good book without feeling guilty about it, and leaving the garden a bit overgrown for the wildlife, ready to attack it properly at a much later date.

And enjoying the wonderful spectacles of the night sky.

I don’t know about you, but I like the autumn equinox.