Holiday in North Cumbria at the top of the Pennines

Recently we had a delightful holiday in a tiny hamlet called Garrigill near the highest market town of Alston, reckoned to be 1500 feet above sea level.
The cottage that we stayed in was called Isaacs Byre, which is a converted cow shed, if you care to take a peek, or those who haven't already, here is the link...www.isaacsbyre.co.uk
It was the most quirky little cottage, In a corner, in the centre of the sitting room was the biggest wood burning caste iron stove I have ever seen, I swear it would create enough energy to fuel The flying Scotsman (train) from Penzance to John O'Groats
. It had two large comfy sofas and a decent sized TV, one thing I hate is a fiddling little TV in a holiday let.
The cottage had been lovingly restored by the present owners, who lived in a larger cottage next door.
We were welcomed by Judith-ann (owner), bearing a large pot of hot tea and some delicious home made biscuits, very welcome after feeling the lowering change of temperature.....
I shall not be typically British and  complain about the weather, because it was mid winter in January, in one of the coldest parts of England, so what would one expect?
Well, it all lived up to my expectations, a cosy little cottage in the middle of nowhere, a well stocked fridge and wine rack, a few good books to read in front of a roaring log fire, and then ..........

'The wind was blowing , the snow was snowing...what did I care, I'd got my love to keep me warm'

  Oh boy! did it snow.....
.huge snow flakes twirling around in a fluttery routine then dashing against the panoramic double glazed windows.
 The poor sheep, huddled together, against the ancient hand built stone walls, being typically British sheep and baahing in unison about the weather  Ha ha !

 Himself laughed at me when I expressed my concern for the sheep being cold.. 'Good grief' said he, 'Maybe we should invite them in for a cup of tea and a warm, in front of the fire'.
Eyes raised to heaven, I retorted,' I thought the farmer would put them away in the barn at the top of the field' Mr funny face !

Then, just as if  by magic, the farmer, in his tractor and his trusty sheepdog Jennie, appeared, leaping alongside him, in gay abandon, yapping at the snowflakes....rounded up my little woolly friends and locked them in the warm dry barn.
The farmer gave us a cheery wave as he and Jennie, trundled back to the Farmhouse..

.Oh I do love country living...., I'm sure I wasn't mean't to be a Townie!
 Di..(more to follow)

 This the first time I have actually managed to publish some pictures, I tried to put one of the snow, at the end  but it didn't appear, I'll try again when I write part two....where are you Anne when I need you ?..xxx