Thigh deep in troll plop

Friday’s outfit: Skirt: Matalan via charity shop;
t-shirt: Primark; cardi: George; shoes: M&S

Over the weekend, Dapper and I went for a walk with Bess, the border collie. We’ve started adding extra loops onto the walk as she gets older and as we want to walk farther, and on Sunday we followed one such route we’ve been taking recently…

A couple of weeks back, it was bleak out, a bit grey and overcast, and we found a rather wonderfully atmospheric pool edged with dead trees that looked like dinosaur fossils. But on Saturday it was bright and sunny, and I fancied a little detour back out that way to see whether the place was quite so eerie in the sun.

I was halfway through the sentence, “It’s not nearly as scary this time around, is it?” when I was cut off suddenly. I had tested the ground with my left foot and stepped forward confidently. But my right foot had hit bog. Before I could even yelp in shock I was thigh-deep in the stuff.

Bog is odd. Even when you stop yourself from sinking further, even when you’ve hit what feels like solid ground, it seems to be sucking at you. And it is heavy, so much so that I felt for all the world as if a strong hand had a hold of my ankle and was trying to pull me under. I can see why people would fear bog monsters and trolls!

With the help of my staff, and Dapper’s strong arms, I was able to break free from the troll’s muddy clutches. Although I felt quite calm, I was surprised to find myself shaking like a leaf – I think it quite astonishing the way the body and mind separate on occasions like these, when the combination of calm and adrenaline are essential to survival…

The rest of the weekend was passed delightfully, on a lovely wedding-outfit shopping trip with my Mum and Ben (only three weeks ’til Bobby’s wedding!) on Saturday, and relaxing on Saturday night/Sunday afternoon. I did get something rather exciting to wear for Bobby & Samia’s wedding, but I’m not going to share what until the wedding itself – as per usual!

I’ll leave you with a couple of photos taken on the way into work.

It is now dark even as we leave in the mornings, which means plenty of oohing and ahhhing over stunning sunrises. Friday’s was no exception!


8 thoughts on “Thigh deep in troll plop

  1. Oh my goodness! That would have left me shaking, too! Can’t wait to see what you picked up for the wedding!

    Also, I couldn’t stifle a giggle when I read the previous comment. It totally made my day. =)


  2. Haha, I was just about to make the “staff” joke, but Louise beat me to it πŸ™‚

    This must have been absolutely terrifying, Caroline, no wonder you were shaking! I’ve always had a complete terror of bogs – I think I read a few too many Enid Blyon adventures in my youth, in which people or animals were almost sucked into them! Glad to hear all ended well, though, and those photos are absolutely stunning!

    • That’s the weird thing – I didn’t feel terrified. It was as if my body went “Hey ho – you’re stuck. Better not panic, you’ll only make things worse for yourself in the long run…” and got on with it. It was only the shaking that even hinted at my brain having registered danger!

      However, I like to think my many, many hours of reading Enid Blyton past my bedtime contributed to my keeping calm – I’m sure it being something hammered into me via various Famous Five adventures! πŸ˜€

  3. Heee, I do like the idea of you having servants following you on a walk! I’ve had a similar “chat, chat, chat…..oh my!” situation when I found a patch of black ice on a street corner on an evening constitutional with N. I went from happy nattering to sat on the road in seconds. Your story is ten times scarier (ice can’t eat you after all) but the sudden change really reminded me of it! Thank goodness for Dapper and “staff” πŸ™‚ xx

    • Don’t worry sweetie, when you come walking with me we will avoid the troll pool at all costs! πŸ™‚

      But I think black ice is a bit scarier… There was a moment last winter when t had been snowing and I decided I’d be safer walking down the centre of the road where the gritters had been. I went from standing to cracking the back of my head on tarmac in a split second, and had I landed slightly differently, or been closer to the kerb, that could have been the end of me! At least bog is slow enough for you to do something about it… xxx

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