Janet's Foss | A Vet’s Life

So Christmas day has come and gone. The butcher in Settle created a decent enough ribbe (pork roast joint, traditional in Norway) even if he cut the crackling into cross-hatched diamonds instead of squares. There were roast potatoes and pigs in blankets and Triar barked so much at the first cracker that we gave up with only one cracked. Odd that he can withstand fireworks outside without blinking an eye, but inside the house, it’s a definite no.

His harness is also significantly tighter than it was when we came down five days ago. I know he had his usual pig in blanket Christmas dinner, but in addition, I suspect he’s been a useful receptacle for leftovers in a house where throwing away food is anathema and that was before he pinched an entire packet of Scottish tablet that he found in one of the bedrooms. That was only yesterday. By some miracle, we have made it through the night, undisturbed. I was expecting explosions at one end or the other, but it seems his digestive system is robust enough to withstand 600 calories of sugar and butter. We’re going to have to do a whole lots of walking when we get home to get it all back off again. As for him, no worries about explosions, he’s still hoping for more.

Christmas highlights included Triar opening his present. This year’s annual Kong teddy is a festive red effort. I also had a lovely laugh during a Zoom Christmas Eve church service I attended. I have started going to church in Scotland and wanted to go on Christmas day, but it was complicated by the fact that I was chief cook.

I know when I was a child, we used all to go to Church on Christmas morning. Grandma must have left the turkey cooking and we likely ate late, but I didn’t think that would work, and so I began to consider remote attendance. Geoff, one of my friends from the writing group I attend – also Donna’s father-in-law – is responsible for the video link in his church up in Lockerbie and so I asked him, and very conveniently, their Christmas service was on Christmas Eve.

It was a nice enough service and the filming was excellent, but the pièce de résistance came during the final carol – Oh Come All Ye Faithful. A small child had been called up to light the Christmas candle and he remained near the microphone in the aftermath. O Come, All Ye Faithful had quite a lot of verses and I spent the first couple smiling at the man who was unable to resist singing the first Oh come, let us adore him, despite the instruction that only the women should sing, but as the verses went on, the small child began at first, humming the chorus, as if to alleviate the boredom, and as the hymn went on, he was getting more and more into it. By the last chorus, he was belting the O comes out, wonderfully tunelessly. For Geoff, it highlighted a technical problem with the microphone, but I loved the raucous singing as that little boy found some entertainment. It’s also a reminder to me of the lack of children in the church I have joined. If the church is to survive, we need to embrace its children and smile at whatever they bring.

On Boxing Day, John, Yoana and I braved the fog on the tops and drove over to Malham for a walk to Janet’s Foss at Malham. Everyone else seems to have had the same idea, but we found a parking space and had a lovely walk.

Towards the end, the sun almost broke through and for a moment, there was blue sky.

But the mist met us again as we drove back up the hill and it’s been grey and damp in Settle every day since. I worked yesterday. I had received permission to work in Yorkshire for a day, though had something urgent come in, I would have had to rush back. My emergency kit is in the car. But now I am on holiday until the 7th of January, so I can now hopefully relax and maybe get a bit of writing in.

Anyway, wherever you are, I hope you have found some joy in this Christmas time. Thank you for reading and I will see you all in the new year.

This week’s post will mainly be about two walks I took this week, the first with my dad, the second with John, but first a quick update on things I forgot last week when I was unable to use my computer. My health is moderately stable. Because of the likelihood of some kind of blockage of my bile duct, I have been eating a low fat diet. This has mostly worked, but any time I deviate from it, I develop pain. It’s nowhere near as bad as the pain before I had my gall bladder removed ten years ago. It’s only somewhat physically troublesome, but psychologically more so.

On the subject of submissions and publishers, there’s nothing much to report. Another couple of rejections, but with some positive feedback about my writing. Too commercial, seems to be the main objection at present, which presumably means it doesn’t fit the style they’re looking for, and not that they think it will sell too well. One editor gave more specific feedback that she “wasn’t sure [it] had quite the escapist, romantic tone [she was] looking for at present”. She did say it was well written though, so I hope that somewhere there is an editor who will fall in love with it. Commercial fiction within traditional publishing tends to fall into very specific genres at the moment and what I’ve written doesn’t fall neatly into any of them, so it was always going to be challenging.

I guess it would be odd to write this without also noting that John, Andrew and I have ended up in the UK at a time of mass upheaval in parliament. The astonishing events of the past week, with dozens of resignations within the Conservative Party, resulting in the resignation of Boris Johnson (though he hasn’t gone yet which, given his recent maverick activities, seems risky) have been something to behold. It has interested me, watching from Norway, that in the UK press at least, it has appeared that Johnson has been credited with handling the pandemic marvellously, based mostly on his roll-out of vaccinations. Watching from the relative calm of Norway, with its early lockdown and only marginally slower vaccination roll out, it seemed bizarre that he received quite so much credit, but of course I don’t know what it felt like on the ground. I can’t say I’m sad to see him go. He seems an unfit person to be in power, with his history of lies and profligacy, but he’s obviously one of those divisive figures that some people love and others don’t.

Anyway, onto the walks and photographs. I went for a walk on Sunday with my dad. After not seeing him for two and a half years, all the time wondering whether we would ever do such a thing again, it felt wonderful to be out in the Yorkshire countryside: a very precious moment together. We walked to Langcliffe, which is a village not far outside Settle. We walked past an old mill, then on up the hill to Langcliffe itself, which is even more charming than Settle, with its terraced stone houses, quiet country church, and village green. We called into the village institute, where volunteers were serving tea and cakes. It felt very much like being inside a James Herriot novel (though without the animals, obviously) which I found very pleasing!

View of Ribblesdale through a wooden farm gate

The second walk was a 7km hike with John. We drove to Malham, then went up the almost 400 steps to the top of Malham Cove.

On the top of Malham Cove is a limestone pavement. It’s amazing to look out over the valley below from this incredible structure with its weathered stone, the cracks between the rocks filled with ferns and tiny flowers.

Having reached the top of Malham Cove, and finding my second wind, we decided we would go on a circuit from the top of the cove to meet a road that went back down into Malham village. As we reached the road, we spoke to a couple we met, who had come up via Janet’s Foss, so rather than walking down the road as planned, we took another detour down the shady river valley, past Janet’s Foss (my Norwegian friends will know what that is, as Foss in Norwegian for waterfall) and back through some gorgeous green pasture, where cattle stood knee deep in grass.