Betrayal

Dear reader,

                                                                          The western Isles

I visited Dove cottage in the Lake District several years ago and found it most interesting being the home to William Wordsworth, the poet, for eight years and where he wrote some of his most famous works.

Dove Cottage was originally purpose-built as a public house where it acquired the name "Dove and Olive".   Trading ceased in 1793 and in l799 William and his sister, Dorothy, moved in.  Like many buildings in the Lake district Dove Cottage is made from local stone with white lime washed walls to keep out the damp.  The roof has slate tiles and chimneys have arrangements of slates on them to help prevent smoke blowing back down.  There are four rooms downstairs and another four upstairs.   The ground floor rooms retain the oak panels and slate floors often found in well built Lakeland houses of the period and appropriate to their original function as drinking rooms in a public house.

The kitchen was very primitive with just a tap over a stone basin.  No wonder they didn't do much cooking and most of their meals were made up with oats for porridge.  I bet the house was very cold when they lived there, I didn't see any radiators.  I often wonder how people managed in those days with the cold damp houses they lived in.  I wouldn't have survived a month of winter then.

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From Dorothy Wordsworth   February 3rd 1798   in Somerset

Gathered sticks in the wood; a perfect stillness.  the red-breasts sang upon the leafless boughs,  Of a great number of sheep in the field, only one standing.  Returned to dinner at five o'clock.  The moonlight still and warm as a summer's night at nine o'clock.

 

From Francis Kilvert  February 6th  1874 in Wiltshire

Another fairy frost.  The rime froze on the trees during the night and this morning every bough was bearded with the delicate frost work.

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Betrayal

 

You were always there

for me, as I for you.

You read to me

you laughed with me

you told me stories

of magic and imagination.

 

We travelled north and south

to Scotland and the Western Isles

enjoyed Dorset, Devon, Cornwall.

Went to see the Lakes

peeped into Beatrix Potter’s house

felt cold in Dove Cottage where

you put my hand in your pocket.

 

We were one heart beat.

 

But you have gone.

Now I have to try to live

another life

with you not there,

with someone else perhaps,

someone to fill the empty gap

you left me with.

 

 Please forgive me darling

 

                                                                                      *

 

With very best wishes, Patricia