Going cuckoo in Cumbria

Since I last wrote, I've had the most glorious five days in Cumbria. My sister lives by Ullswater in half an old vicarage with views of mountains out of every window.

I haven't been to the gym for months so I knew I was very unfit compared to my mountaineer sister. When we set out on a walk the first day, I was full of trepidation and expected to have to turn back after half an hour and go back to the house for a nice cup of tea and a lie down. To my amazement, as we scrambled up the steep track, I could feel my hip and knee joints flexing and loosening up and could almost hear them crying, "Oh, thank goodness, we're being made to work at last!"

One day, we went to Penrith to our favourite clothes shop, Victoria's, where I bought a gorgeous dress in a sale and it was a size 12! Whoopee! Though it was too big on my sister and she's a 12, so I think it had been mislabelled (boo!).

The weather was warm and sunny the whole time I was there. And - joy - I heard a cuckoo for the first time in years. I have booked to go back for a week in August, for her annual art exhibition in Glenridding village hall. Last time I was there, it had snowed and the path to the door was solid ice. Don't think there's much chance of that in August but just in case, I know where she keeps the crampons.