Country Pastimes.

I return from an abortive visit to the Garden Centre with nothing except a bag of freshly made sugared ring doughnuts.  This in spite of my avowed intention at the beginning of the weekend (when I was replete after a supper of fish and chips) to cut down radically on food intake to combat a noticeably thickening waistline.  The sweet warm aroma wafting enticingly from the strategically-placed kiosk between the shop door and my car had proved irresistable!

John and I sit down in the hot sunshine and tuck into our feast.  The rural scene is idyllic. A honey-coloured cat stalks gracefully along the fence by the paddock, butterflies flutter amongst the late flowering nasturtiums, caterpillars lazily make their way up the warm wall (going where?), and the herd of cows contentedly grazing in the pasture beyond suddenly stampede in single file before stopping, settling, then lying down to rest after such uncharacteristic exertion.

Then a distant spluttering engine-noise adds a soundtrack to the picture.   An old farm tractor is busy in the far field, towing an interestingly-shaped trailer.   As we watch the toy-like tractor wending its way about the field, we notice that from time to time it stops, and the trailer tosses out from its innards a large bundle of grass - John remarks that it is like watching a birth, whilst I (who have never, unlike him, seen a birth) murmur that it looks more like it's doing a poo!   This happens over and over again, so that soon there are large hay bales scattered all over the field.  We find ourselves riveted by this unexpected lunchtime entertainment.   Then a second red tractor appears from stage right, towing a wierdly fascinating piece of equipment, which scoops up each bale, and spins it round in the air for some time, gradually covering it with shiny black plastic, before unceremoniously flipping it out, when it bounces on the grass before rolling gently to a halt.  Soon the far field looks like a calm greenish sea, with shiny buoys glinting in the sunshine.  The tractors and their equipment disappear, and our lunchtime entertainment has come to an end.

                                You can just about make out the shiny blobs in the far field.

Such are the simple pleasures of living our declining years in the midst of the Somerset countryside.  Indeed we appreciate it all the more having both had London (or more particularly) London Suburban childhoods, where we had small back gardens overlooked by rows of houses.   Here our vista is constantly changing, and there is always something new to take our interest.    Hard to believe that recently I looked from the kitchen towards the hall door to see a  glossy bright pheasant gazing intently at me.     I dashed for my camera as he wandered amongst the greenery outside our sitting room window, watched lazily by his very drearily coated ladyfriend.     They stayed fussing around for a good half hour before disappearing through the hedge - but their visit really made our day.

Lastly I have to include this picture of the hollyhocks which seem to have self-seeded in our garden, and have flowered for weeks, the blossoms slowly moving up the long stems which have successfully survived high winds and lashing rain.    One of them has grown considerably taller than I am - which John was keen to put on record, though I have to say they are now  really gangly, and almost flowerless so do NOT look their best.

Tractors, pheasants, and hollyhocks .... hardly material for a blog, but strangely fascinating.

(Later this same day......)

We had a further diversion whilst enjoying our Sunday evening meal - what should turn up in the far field but a piece of mechanism rather like a dinosaur - it had a long ugly neck, and it proceeded amongst the shiny black hay bales, steadily getting each one in its sights, then moving towards it and clasping it between iron jaws.   Once having grasped its victim it raced towards a waiting platform, and offloaded its prey.  One by one, each of the helpless parcels were scooped up and piled on top of each other, till they resembled, from this distance, a very modern black-glass edifice.     We scarcely had time to admire this rather spectacular structure,  than the monster returned, and hooking itself up to the platform, proceeded to race off with its plunder shimmering in its wake.

All this happened as the sun moved low in the sky, painting the whole scene in warmest yellow, giving the grazing cattle a very burnished appearance, and creating a setting where it seemed scarcely possible that such carnage had so recently taken place.

'Trains, and Boats, and ....... Games.'

I see that I haven't contributed to my blog since June, and this is because (much, I am sure, to the surprise of the younger generations) we have been having such a full-on Great Time!   We may be well into our Seventies, but I can't remember a year when SO much happy-stuff has happened, and when we have enjoyed ourselves more.  Who would have thought, on our Wedding Day so long ago, that 50 years later we would STILL be having the time of our lives!

Having completed my Talks Season with a nerve-wracking finale at Vicki's Winchester Fashion Week, we spent a really happy couple of days with my brother and wife enjoying the ever-generous Harewood House Hospitality.

               Playing a campfire 'sticks' game, which after a great barbecue meal and lots to drink, became more and more hilarious!         

Then we brought Viv and Trev back here with us.  You might imagine that we four aged folk might spend our time dozing in the garden in the sunshine between sessions of g&t's and over-eating ....... but not at all (well..... the eating and drinking went on apace).    We managed to fit in a super time at the Bristol Harbour Festival, taking the Park'n Ride in and walking miles around the dockside to see the myriad boats wedged in every space - and taking a ferry trip to get a different perspective. 

   We shopped, and prepared for a garden party here one day, when my brother was able to get together with his sisters, their families, our Mum, and even our only cousin - Tonia.     We spent one whole day on the golfcourse, with two buggies - the one my brother and I had seemed supercharged, and as he has had racing car-training he drove frenetically around, trying to spin me over the side - it was huge fun (we were lucky to avoid a telling-off from the Course Supervisor!).   And on my birthday we took a really scenic drive down to Devon in the sunshine, visiting High Bullen Hotel (John and my favourite hideaway 'treat' venue) to show them the glorious golf course, and to encourage them to take a break there with us sometime.   Trevor treated us to a delicious evening birthday supper there, and we all landed back home here well after midnight.

The Birthday Girl Celebrates at High Bullen with Little Bro. and Spouse.

This might seem more than enough excitement  for us to cope with- but even more was to come.    Last
week we took Kerry with us to spend a couple of days or so at Gerrards X with Jon and Sam (.... and had a wonderful time with dear little ZeeBee, such a smiley baby!).

    From there the following day, John and I went by train to Marylebone, and thence to Victoria for what was to prove a TRULY truly fabulous experience.

 Kerry had booked a day trip for us on the Orient Express to Southampton, and thence by coach through the New Forest to Beaulieu where we spent a couple of hours or so, with sunshine all the way (super place - MUST go back again!).

'Motorina' Bell in her Edwardian Motor Coat.

 The Orient Express was waiting for us at the QE2 Terminal on Southampton Quayside later that day, with its splendidly uniformed staff lined up by every door to welcome us aboard, where champagne was liberally poured and delicious canapes offered, before a REALLY superb four-course meal which we enjoyed on the journey back to London.    (I have neglected to mention that on the journey down that morning we had been served an amazing brunch, with bellinis mixed at our table, then fresh fruit salad, followed by smoked salmon, scrambled eggs, rosti, and a spoonful of caviare from a silver dish.)

The QE2 Terminal at Southampton Quayside - (last off the coach!)

Halfway through breakfast.

The whole experience was one of utter luxury - the carriages all had wonderfully veneered panelling with art deco marquetry, velvet wing backed armchairs, lots of lovely old brass fittings, thick carpets,  and each had its own particular colourway.   The individual tables were laden with cut glass and fine china, all with the Orient Express Logo, and  velvet trimmed, brass table lamps - all displayed on sparkling white tablecloths.

It was lovely that Kerry was at Jon and Sam's on our return so could hear all about our wonderful day at first hand.   She too seems to have had a great time, as she helped Sam attempt to cover ZeeBee's hands with paint to make Memento Hand-Prints for her scrapbook ( a very messy business, which the wee boy did NOT much enjoy), and she and Sam had both had  pedicures - a first for Kerry, so we were able to admire her pretty toes.

Kerry came back to stay with us in Bristol, and Jon joined us for an evening meal and sleepover when he was working in Bristol - it was lovely to have them at our table together.   

And so we continue along our merry way, with the diary full of dates with family and friends, with Talks and Orchestra, with Committee Meetings (me), and Parish Council Meetings (John - he is now Chairman of our Parish Council) and much else.   No time to 'stand and stare' - and not much time to see to the necessary chores, and the garden - but wow - it's a great life!