Bog Cotton

That’s what I have always called it anyway. It is also known as Cotton Grass, but as it is not a grass and it grows in boggy conditions, I think my name is the more accurate.

A strange day of sunshine, showers, cloud and wind. We took a short trip to Wet Sleddale, which is the gathering ground for one of the reservoirs that provide water for the North West. As the name suggests, it is usually very wet, even along the paths that circle the reservoir. Today the ground was dry, but the threat of rain and the gathering wind meant we didn’t last very long on the walk. Some nice views, but no light, hence the blip of bog cotton, with the focus all over the place, as it was windy and I had been taking pictures of the hills and trees.

So, yesterday and today I washed all the towels and bedding that had accumulated from having had the family staying – many, many loads. Then I did the ordinary laundry. Finally, when everything in the house was washed . . . the washing machine (which is actually surprisingly old) gave up!! Now I consider the washing machine as the most important appliance in the house. I feel unsafe without it. Could I really do hand washing – absolutely not. The last lot of towels came out unspun and it was suggested (by someone who has nothing to do with laundry) that we might have an old spin drier somewhere – we don’t! Does anyone else remember those little spin driers that moved all over the floor as they spun? Automatic washing machines = female emancipation. My first phone call tomorrow - our local electrical appliance supplier.