I spent yesterday being a tourist. My first stop was Mother Shipton’s Cave to see the petrifying well and make a wish, then on to Fountains Abbey to see what was there. I decided as it by then the afternoon, it wasn’t worth the £9 entrance fee, so went on to Grassington where the whole town seemed to be out celebrating the Royal wedding. After that, a walk round Bolton Abbey, and finishing with fish and chips in Skipton. The weather, apart from one short, light shower stayed dry.
Mother Shipton’s was fascinating. There was a really strange, calm atmosphere, possibly boosted by the fact that there were few people there. I bought a hematite crystal bracelet which is meant to help fight stress. A lovely lady sold it to me. She radiated positive energy.
It’s only now, a day later that I realise why I wanted to avoid the wedding so much. Back in 1997 I was in Exeter, three weeks after Princess Diana died. For some reason they decided to hold a three minute silence and everything stopped. This distressed me greatly. I feel that grieving is something that shouldn’t be controlled. If people are made to do something, it’s not always real. I also wanted to scream and shout and tell the world that I’d had my own tragedy, that two weeks after Diana died, my husband died, but of course, I didn’t say that.
This morning, there’s a plant sale/coffee morning at St Mary’s Church, so I’m going to see what I can find.
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