Wayside Flowers

We decided half way through Sunday that we needed a bit of exercise. A rare weekend at home all to ourselves, had resulted in us both eating and drinking too much – the pre-dinner drink, together with dips and crisps which himself hadn’t been able to resist whilst doing his Saturday shop – the ‘Saturday fry-up’ so seldom enjoyed these days – the profiteroles afterwards ….. and then a cooked Sunday breakfast …… all these excesses had left their mark.

We justified all this by having done a great deal of work on the house and in the garden – clearing gutters, cutting back bushes, mowing the lawns etc., but still our tummies felt heavy, and in spite of dull skies and frequent showers, we donned our raincoats and took a roadside walk to avoid mud underfoot.

Walking a loop from our home necessitated covering a section of the seldom-used footpath along the A38, and to our great delight we discovered SO many varieties of wild flowers growing there. And this in spite of all the CO2 generated by the generally constant traffic using the road. Once we started taking note of the different varieties we were amazed at just how many there were. We’re born and bred townies, both, so are unfamiliar with the names of everything we saw, but here are a few of them.

........ and we harvested just a very few to enjoy back home .......

Sporty, Spritely, Cerebral Seventies!

‘’You’re hardly ever in!’ and ‘Your mobile’s never switched on’
‘No’ and ‘No’ I reply, and from what I hear from my contemporaries, we oldies are all tarred with the same brush. Having spawned, supported, savoured, sometimes suffered, shared, and scattered our so-special sprogs, we find ourselves at a stage when we have just about enough energy to go and do our own ‘thing’ before time runs out.

So it was this week. We have just spent a couple of fun-filled days at Mary and Lewis’ lovely cottage right by Marlow Bridge. Mary is a superb cook, Lewis keeps a great cellar, and they are the best of hosts. The most delectable dishes appear on the table with seeming ease, conversation and laughter come thick and fast, and we finally totter back across the lawn from their luxurious summerhouse a little tiddly (well, a lot tiddly really) to find our way up to our bedroom sometime after midnight.

But that isn’t all we do ……. Though it ought to be more than enough for persons of our advancing years. After a ‘light lunch’ and wine we played a couple of 9-hole rounds of golf at their nearby Bisham golfcourse – its narrow fairways along the banks of the Thames making it more challenging than might be supposed. We braved showers of rain, but remained chirpy and determined throughout – even though the two ‘boys’ beat us ‘girls’ by a couple of holes.














Next morning we were up betimes and on Marlow Bridge at 9a.m. to watch the ‘Swan Upping’ – a delightfully olde-English tradition featuring red and white uniformed Swan Uppers, and gentlemen from a City Livery Company quaffing glasses of something suitably sustaining on the riverside lawns of the Compleat Angler Hotel before rowing off down the river, swan-bedecked flags flying.

After a healthy and nourishing breakfast (preceded by a couple of Alka Seltzers), we drove off up to Waddesdon Manor near Aylesbury. I had expected something on the lines of a sprawling country manor house, but found instead an enormous French-style chateau. I should have known better – it was the home of the Rothschild family before being bequeathed to the National Trust.

The vast gardens were full of statuary, topiary, fountains, and glorious flowers, as well as the most splendid aviary I have ever set eyes on. The fine sunny day made wandering round the estate a real pleasure, and then of course we needed to refuel at the Manor Restaurant……. delicious, thankyou Lewis.

The interior of the ‘palace’ (for it was nothing short of that) was just mind-blowing. Such chandeliers, such furnishings, so many glorious paintings by all the great masters, such fabulous ceramics, and so so many wonderful treasures …… it was totally stunning and truly magnificent. We even got to tour the Rothschild wine cellars, a catacomb of delight for we who consider ourselves ‘buffs’

People complain of this still being a class-ridden society. But just 100 years ago, only the privileged few would have been able to enjoy those opulent, totally sumptuous surroundings, whereas now we old-timers, as well as the world and his wife (and children) can roam such places for the price of a National Trust ticket. Indeed there is now a terrific Woodland Playground for children of all ages, which the Rothschilds would certainly never have dreamt of.

Such is the tenor of our days now that we have reached the rather pleasant plateau of the third age. It’s a great life, which we shall continue to take delight in until we’re ‘sans everything’.

Thankyou Lewis and Mary for such a happy time ……..and we look forward to your return visit with great pleasure.