Views and Badger

 Jane! Help! I am currently capable only of blogging on a Thursday with my Northern Irish views, but keep meaning to tell you that, despite my invitation, I can't get in. Please advise...

Everyone else! It has been a typical Spring week here in the Frozen North. Just when we had all put away our woollies and bought suncream, back came the rain and snow and blizzard- and that was just lunchtime on Monday- and out came the winter coat. Shed today with the return of Meadowplace Blue. The strawberries are re-enacting Roman prisoners being taken into slavery. You can guess what we're revising tonight. Big into kinesthetic learning in this house.

 Jo sat us all down to make paper bunting yesterday, which we dutifully did. Not least because a return to sun means the annual return of exam weather and no-one was in any fit state to revise Physics or rotational symmetry. The bunting was in honour of PC's new (to him) car. We bade a grateful farewell to the carriage which has taken us all through Ireland, Scotland, England and France. It needs a rest!

 On to more pressing blog Badger business. Pom Pom, in the deep mid-winter, sent Badger forth on a quest for international hygge. He got as far as here, felt about Ireland much as I imagined the Romans did, and refused to come out of his den.

 There was a brief burst of energy when the grey cold lifted momentarily for February half-term. We took him out and about for his Irish farewell. Not sure that he appreciated the Stormont playpark as much as we did. He mustn't have known that activities there are mightily more impressive than any antics in our Parliament Building on the hill behind...

I think he did appreciate the wild ruins of Nendrum at Strangford Lough. His nose was twitchy and I suspect he smelt weasels. Though it could just have been ancient vestiges of Viking fear still  floating over the waters.

This is our oldest monastic site in Northern Ireland with links back to St Patrick and beyond. You can wander over the enclosures and hear the chants. Mole would have been bored.

He might have preferred the splendour of Mount Stewart house. We proceeded there for refreshment. Badger looked for some animal company on board but there was none to be had. The sunken garden is closed, with much of the rest, for a huge refurbishment, so all the strange stone creatures were out of bounds.

We did explore the Ulster Garden and count symbols and legends.

The story of the Red Hand of Ulster is most gruesome, but it was too early in the season for a vivid display of blood. No doubt when our Marching Season of July comes round we'll be spilling some again.

So, FINALLY, Pom Pom and Betty, finally I can state that Badger has left the country. He should by now be well on his way to England for a stay in a real Wild Wood. He is rested and ready for adventure. His fur bristles with the need for undergrowth and trees. Betty the Wood Fairy, here he comes.

If you would like to host Badger do let Pom Pom or me know- it's a wide, wild world, and Badger is on the move... (Ang, no reference to Rev Bob has been harmed in the making of this post. Bob seems currently to be a cult figure inspiring stomach-clutching hilarity in any context involving ten year old boys. Answers on a postcard. To someone with more patience for stomach-clutching hilarity in full exam season.)