Ospreys At Rutland Water

Last weekend we had intended visiting Rutland Water. We had done some research on the internet and decided it would be the ideal place to visit, but it would need to be reasonably dry because most of the activities, or indeed, all of the activities to be found there were outside and it was no good if it was pouring with rain. Also, it seemed just the right place to go with Alfie and he was in need of an outdoor activity which included a good walk. As it turned out the weather was unsettled so we didn't go. But this weekend we needed to get out of the house because 'next-door' were continuing with their D.I.Y. activities which included hammering relentlessly. Enough to drive anyone to distraction and it didn't seem it would end any time soon, so we went for the idea of visiting Rutland Water.

We set up the SatNav and trusted that it would get us to Rutland Water without too much bother (we call it a 'she' as it has a female voice. We call her Dora, after 'Dora The Explorer.') We would have expected to drive up the A1 and then cross towards the A1 via the A14 but we were taken across towards Bedford and then on along the bypass to the Black Cat Roundabout on the A1 and then streight up to around Stamford and Oakham. It was a relatively easy journey. When we arrived at Rutland Water we went into one of the carparks (Sykes Lane) but realised soon that it wasn't where we wanted to be as we wanted to visit the bird-watching site. Then we drove to Egleton and eventually ended up at Manton where the birdwatching site and reserve is situated. As we wanted to have a chance of seeing the ospreys and other birds and have access to the hides along the shore we had to buy permits. I was reluctant to part with any cash at first, but I was brought round when I realised that the people who run the place had done a very good job of not only landscaping the area, and providing good paths and fencing, the cost of the entry is well worth it. The reserve is managed by the Leicestershire and Rutland Wildlife Trust in association with Anglian Water who built the reservoir in the late 1970's. i remember driving up to the area with my parents to see this mammoth building project being constructed and then returning to see it being filled with water, probably in 1975-76. It's a huge area of water but considering it's a man-made structure seems very natural and seems to fit into the spectacular landscape extremely well.

The weather wasn't too kind when we first arrived, with some slight rain, but, fortunately, it eased off and we had some pleasant weather, some sunshine but not too warm.

We walked along the south shore. Quite a pleasant walk. There was a choice of two paths, one nearer the water's edge and the other, a lot higher up, with a gravel surface. We could see someone in a wheelchair further along and it did seem a better path if you were in a wheelchair, pushing a child in a  buggy or other wheeled contraption, but the lower path which we were on, wasn't really suitable for wheeled vehicles of any sort. Unfortunately we soon discovered that there were a lot of gnats or other unpleasant insects hanging in the air in vast clouds which we had to swat away as we walked along. We came to one hide but, on sitting inside and peering out through the openings we could see no sign of any birds or other wildlife. Perhaps if we'd had our own field glasses or binoculars we'd probably have had a chance of seeing something. We didn't stay in the hide too long.

We re-joined the path. We had the choice of following two paths. One signpost said 'This way to tufted duck.' I forget what the other said. I was intrigued to see a tufted duck. Well, let's be honest, what would you expect one to look like? Then we came upon yet another hide. Was this the spot to view the ever-elusive species? The intriguingly-named tufted duck? On going inside we did look through the viewing holes but no sign of any sort of bird, let along a tufted duck. We gave up. Perhaps you have to be a good deal more patient if you're to become a very active bird-watcher. We walked on and found a far larger hide. On entering we were surprised to find a crowd of people, all very earnest, although very knowledgeable and friendly. There was a television monitor set up at one end which was showing pictures of birds on a nest, being streamed live from a web-cam. It turned out to be ospreys. We were also able to actually view these birds through telescopes and on looking through these devices saw these birds, a female on a nest and another a male perched on a tree in the water a good half-mile away. Apparently Rutland Water is an important site for birds and is the first place in the British Isles where ospreys have bred in something like 150 years. We were told that if we came back in a couple of months we might see some osprey chicks because the female was supposed to be incubating some eggs in the nest. I hope we might be able to see some of the birds 'in the flesh' and not on either a video screen or through a telescope lens, but even seeing them like that was something of a thrill. We have many pairs of red kites flying around in the Chilterns, particularly where we go at West Wycombe, as these beautiful birds have been re-introduced in that area.

We walked back towards the visitor centre. It seemed a good deal further back than it was when we began our walk out along the shore-line.

For some strange reason, the SatNav directed us back home a different way to the route we took from Milton Keynes. You would imagine that it would use the route we took to get to Rutland Water. It just seems so strange. I just don't see the logic of the thing. But, after all, it is still a computerised gadget and not human.

Outing To Cambridge

Our holiday continues. We are making the most of the warm weather again and this time, we had a trip out to Cambridge. We have been there on a few occasions, but not for a couple of years. We had to put petrol in the car at the Shell station in Grafton Street and then drove away from Milton Keynes, going towards Bedford past the Amazon distribution centre near the M1 junction at Ridgemont. The recently opened stretch of dual carriageway between the M1 and going towards Bedford and eventually the A1 at the Blackcat Roundabout means you no longer go into Bedford at all as it joins up with the Bedford bypass and it takes no more than 20-30 minutes to reach Bedford and then a further 20 minutes or so to reach the A1 and off near St Neots and on towards Cambridge. We soon reached the park-and-ride carpark at Madingley and boarded the bus which took us into the centre of Cambridge. Another relatively short journey and it's so much easier to use the park-and-ride rather than negotiating the centre of Cambridge, looking for a parking space, the frustration that causes, getting stuck in traffic (which, incidentally was quite heavy.) and in the end saving time and money (the cost of a return ticket was £6, not too expensive considering the speed of the journey and the time we spent in the centre of Cambridge.) We got off on Bridge Street, near the Round Church and the walked towards the Market Square and King's Parade. We found a Marks and Spencer's and bought crisps , drink and sandwiches and Carol wanted a coffee so we found a Cafe Nero and bought a take-out latte and then we went off to find somewhere to devour our food and in the end sat on a step in a side-street. I'm surprised there are no more benches that we could have sat on, but never mind. Adequately refreshed we walked to the Fitzwilliam Museum in Trumpington Street and browsed in one of the galleries and looked at some very familiar Pre-Raphaelite paintings which I have only ever seen in books. Also, another favourite painter of mine, Sir Stanley Spencer.
We stood looking at one painting and then a lady, who was viewing the same painting asked us about it. We had a long conversation and it turned out that she was also a teacher, like Carol. She was from Canada, and we then discovered she'd come to England to work with her husband and was working in a school in Milton Keynes and lived only a short distance from where we lived. It seemed quite a coincidence that we should go all the way to Cambridge and then bump into someone who lived only a short distance from us but who worked in another school and was also a teacher! Carol has also worked with several teachers over the past year who came originally from Canada (for example, Kendra, who stayed with us briefly before she moved into her own accommodation.) Just shows what a small world it is.)

We wandered through so more of the galleries before leaving the museum and walking back along Trumpington Street and the centre of Cambridge. Carol suggested we buy some ice cream, which we got from a street vendor and we sat and ate it on the low wall near one of the collages on King's Parade. The place was absolutely teeming with tourists. Cambridge is quite obviously one of the many and various stops that tourists come to when they visit this country.

The Chronophage at Corpus Christi

Carol had said she wanted to see the special clock which is at one of the colleges along King's Parade. We saw it a couple of years ago when we visited Cambridge when we'd been to the botanic garden. It had only recently been installed and we saw it on the local BBC television news programme 'Look East.'It is on the corner of Benet Street, on the outside of Corpus Christi college. It's a large golden clock which has a strange but quite hideous grasshopper-like insect balanced on the top which is made of metal and acts as the escape mechanism and seems to be clawing away time as it moves along. It had crowds of tourists in front of it, making it difficult to see clearly. Mostly Japanese tourists who seemed eager to photograph the thing with either their mobile phones or cameras. It took me some considerable time and effort to get a decent shot as a lot of children would insist on sitting on the sill of the window it was behind. But I eventually managed to get the photograph I wanted.

As much as we love Cambridge, and we've visited quite a few times over the past couple of years, there is one thing that annoys us above all other things. It's those people who throng the main tourist streets, particularly along King's Parade, touting punting trips. We were approached by several as we walked along, minding our own business. These 'trips' aren't cheap, around £20-£30 a time. I'm not sure how exactly they work, but presumably you are taken for a trip, in a punt, controlled (if that's the right word.) by a student or other person, along the Granta or Camb (I'm not sure which name the same river has in the centre of Cambridge. Presumably the Cam. I think it becomes the Granta outside the City.) But to say 'no' to one such tout and then be constantly assaulted (pardon the expression. But it does seem a bit like an assault.) by several more is just too much. Something should be done about it. I think if I, for one, wish to take a punting trip along the river I have a right to choose when I do this, and not be bombarded by these people. The local authority should do something about it, as it's extremely annoying.
We continued on and walked back to Bridge Street to await the arrival of the next bus which would take his back to the park-and-ride car park and our car. 

Food Favourites (And some not quite so)

I have written extensively about my school days and in particular at Rushmoor School in Bedford. Of the many not quite so pleasant memories of that establishment must surely be the totally disgusting dinner that was served up. More like slopped up. I have absolutely no idea how much my father had to fork out to send me there, but I would have hoped if I had a son and I was paying for their education, I would hope the food that was dished up was a good deal better. I think they could have made more effort to make it, at least, half edible. I think most people when they look back on their school days (which, you keep being reminded are supposed to be 'the happiest of your life.') it's generally the dinners that get mentioned the most frequently if it's for how bad they are, or even, how good. I can remember gristly, chewy meat. What sort it was, I can hardly imagine. I should think beef or pork, but possibly a horse, mule or donkey. More likely road-kill from some country road in and around Bedfordshire. Sorry, I know we've had food scares in the past. But expecting your progeny to eat such disgusting food should come under some form of an act of parliament for child cruelty in this day and age.  I don't know about the time I was at school. You just put up with it and didn't make any sort of fuss. Liver, I seem to recall, looking like and having the consistency of rubber erasers and tasting bitter, and swimming in gravy. No, struggling to survive. Usually watered-down, like the custard. I think they could make a reasonably fine sponge pudding, but then they ruined it with lumpy custard. But tell me, how difficult is it to make the custard, minus the lumps? Shove it through a sieve to remove the lumps and then boil it to death. Similarly, cabbage, which has been boiled to within an inch of its life. And stinking the place out to high heaven. Enough to put anyone off for life, and it probably has. Rice pudding was another staple. Actually, to tell the truth, I do actually like rice pudding. They served it up with watered-down treacle I seem to remember. I've heard of stretching things until it breaks, like a piece of elastic (yes, another metaphor. The liver and meat had the texture of elastic. Chew it until your jaw ached!) Which reminds me that once, at Rushmoor, one dinner time they served up plain boiled rice. I think it might, on reflection, have started out being a good old fashioned rice pud, but someone forgot that it's made with milk. So we were expected to eat it, along with very watered-down treacle. Not nice. Can you imagine being made to sit and eat it until it was all gone? That Mrs Richardson, who presided over the piano-playing for assembly (see my earlier post.) was in control of the ladle and spoon, doling out the dinners, slapping the custard, gravy and other comestibles onto our plates as we queued up, in a similar fashion to the inmates of the workhouse in 'Oliver Twist.' We had liver, as I've said. Pretty disgusting. I expect it put a lot of people off liver- for life. No 'asking for more' as you can imagine. I think even poor old Oliver would have passed on the rubber-consistency of this. I actually rather like liver, as an adult. I don't have a problem with it and know how to cook it, slowly, in a nice rich gravy. It's quite nice, for a change. It's a cheap meal and is good for you. It contains iron, amongst other things. But the thought of eating boiled rice, on it's own, with thin, watered-down treacle, that was just disgusting. 

My mother was a very good cook. She made plain, simple food. As there were seven of us living at home, five of us brothers and my mother and father, what you had put in front of you, you were expected to eat up and not leave anything. No room for finicky eaters. I don't think my mother would have put up with such behaviour, and certainly not my father. We had porridge for breakfast. Actually, even as an adult, I quite like porridge, so long as I'm making it and it's not lumpy. Better for you, and a good deal cheaper, than sugar-filled cereals from a packet.  I don't think we ever had any other cereal such as Rice Krispies, Sugar Puffs or even Corn Flakes until I was perhaps around 12 years old. Also, bacon and eggs. A good old fry-up, because, being a farm, my father and two eldest brothers needed a substantial breakfast each morning as they would have got up early, around 5.30- 6.00, to feed the cattle and other animals and do other early-morning jobs, and then come into the house to have their breakfast at 7-8 o'clock. That was after they left school.

Sunday lunch we'd usually have a roast, such as chicken, beef, pork or lamb. Naturally, if it was beef or pork it might possibly be home-produced. And with the roast, roast potatoes and other vegetables from the garden. My father grew Brussel sprouts on the farm, which were sent off to Smithfield Market, and we had with our meal. A much larger variety than the tiny variety that you'll find in your average supermarket. For pudding, something like sponge pudding and custard (although I don't remember having custard. Probably cream, straight from the cow which was reserved for the house. Something I don't expect would be allowed today, what with the E.U. and all the regulations that go with it. The cattle were tested for T.B. or whatever it was once a year, can't remember what else for, to fit the current regulations. I just know that you wouldn't be able to drink 'raw' untreated milk. I have to say that it tasted a good deal better than pasteurised milk, and the cream was thicker and richer. We also had a lot of fruit from the garden, such as strawberries, raspberries and rhubarb, when in season, and ate it stewed with more cream, or in a sponge pudding of some sort. Also, celery and asparagus, which, looking back, we were very fortunate to have growing in the garden. When you see these things in a supermarket, and the price they charge, I realise more than ever how lucky we were to be able to eat these fruit and vegetables. There was a quite substantial orchard at Malting Farm, with plenty of plum, apple and pear trees in it. Sadly, the last time I went to the farm I saw that it had all been removed and the land used  as animal pens. I suppose the cost of maintaining it all was too much and was better being used for the sheep and other farm animals.

My mother was a good baker and we had ample cakes and other delights for tea. I don't think she ever bought a cake, although I seemed to remember her buying the odd treat from a cake shop in Harrowden Road, on the road going into Bedford. Doughnuts, filled with jam, as well as little cakes in fancy paper trays, I think called Viennese Whirls, made, I think of choux pastry and with a dob of bright red jam on top. Not jam probably, more like a thick gooey substance with a sweet over-flavoured taste. She was a dab-hand at making shortbread, I believe being given the recipe from one of my father's Scottish relatives. There is a certain knack to making this Scottish delicacy, made of real butter and it has to be kneaded carefully. Just delicious, cut into triangles and sprinkled with sugar. Also, scones with cream and jam, Victoria sponges, also filled with jam (I'm quite good at making them.) as well as fruit cakes and her piece-de-resistance, cream slices, which had not jam and cream in them, but confectioner's custard, which is quite difficult to make. Tea was at around 4.00 p.m. and you can see why we had so many visitors to the farm, usually 'reps' from the various companies who did business with the farm. They would not only get an order out of my father, but a decent cup of tea, a piece of cake and a chat, before they got back in their cars and drove back to wherever their company was based, such as Biggleswade or Sandy, which are further up the road going towards the A1.

My grandmother, who lived at Mill Farm, made rock cakes, and she covered them with little seeds I think they were caraway seeds. I didn't particularly like them as a child. If you went to tea you weren't expected to pick and choose. You couldn't be finicky. You ate what was put in front of you. So, if you found yourself eating something you didn't like (such as the aforementioned seeded rock cakes) you put up and shut up. I do remember though, one family (who shall remain nameless) coming to tea with their two children who would have been quite young at the time, and my mother had made her usually delicious teas with plenty of cake (although the rule was generally 'bread before cake' in our household.) and there was a plate full of delicious-looking little cakes (probably filled with jam and cream.) One of these children had an eye for the plate of cakes and was determined to get on. So, in order that one, in particular, was taken for him to consume, he licked a finger and then stuck it in one of the cakes and said 'that one's for me!' meaning that, because he'd shoved his finger into it with a licked finger, no one else would possibly want to eat it! Not a particularly pleasant little boy, I must say, and I'm not entirely sure what my mother made of this strategy to get one of her delicious cakes!

As for some  other of my favourite foods: I like pancakes, and I'm fairly good at making them myself. As it's Shrove Tuesday this week ('Pancake Day') I shall no doubt be making some myself. The knack is being able to make a good batter and leaving it to stand for well over an hour. Whisking the batter is the secret. Also, making batter for Yorkshire pudding, making sure the oven is hot and the pan you cook it in has hot oil in it before you put in the batter. I like mine crisp and crunch with a most or soggy centre.My grandfather liked his Yorkshire pudding soggy and I remember going to lunch with my grandparents and my grandfather deliberately slammed the oven door when we had Yorkshire pudding with our roast beef to make sure they sunk and wouldn't go crunchy! I also like bread and butter pudding, so simple to make, but easy to make. I'm good at making that also.

Sojourn To The North-East

Daniel, my step-son (Carol's eldest son) is currently at Newcastle University doing a degree course in computing. (I'm not exactly sure of the name of the course, but it's to do with gaming.) His current tenancy of his flat was about to expire and he had found another flat in Newcastle and needed to move his belongings this weekend, so we were asked if we could drive up to help him move his things in the car. Obviously we couldn't not help. We were originally going to go on the Friday and do the move with him and then drive back that evening, but as it's at least a 5-hour journey there it would have meant another 5-hour drive back and it didn't seem such a good idea to do it in one day, so we asked our neighbours, Michelle and Gary if they would mind keeping an eye on our dogs, Alfie and Poppy, coming in and feeding them and letting them out a couple of times a day. Just one of the disadvantages of having pets, I suppose. They agreed, so that put our minds at rest, and meant that we could spend a night in Daniel's flat once we'd done the shifting of the belongings.

We packed up our things to take with us, not much as it would be just the one night, and set off at 5.30 a.m. on Friday. We were expecting to drive up the M1 to the North East, but when we drove to the Milton Keynes entrance at Junction 14. Having driven all the way there we then found that it was closed off. We later discovered that there had been a major accident on the motorway and it was closed off up until the next Junction due to 'exploratory work.' So we didn't know exactly what to do as we didn't want to drive up to the Northampton Junction in an attempt to get on the M1 there only to find that the Motorway was closed further north there, so we came to the decision that we would have to travel north on the A1 and drive across to the Black Cat roundabout. This is the roundabout on the A1 between the A1 and A421 (formerly A428) just south of St Neots. We had to cut across Milton Keynes and head towards Bedford and the by-pass. We had to waste a good hour or so in the process, but at least it meant we were travelling north towards Newcastle-Upon-Tyne. We stopped after about a further hour's driving and had breakfast in one of the many service areas and then proceeded with our journey, arriving eventually in Newcastle at around noon.

The next problem was that we didn't have Daniel's address. Neither did we have a street map. Instead we rang his mobile and he directed us to his flat via him speaking through the speakerphone and we eventually found the flat after some convoluted directions. It was then that the real problems began, because as we were about to drive away from his flat to go to the agency for him to pay his deposit for the flat Carol said there was something wrong with the car. She wasn't sure what, but she was having difficulties shifting the gear leaver or something. We thought at first it might have been due to the extra weight of having Daniel sitting in the back of the car. We drove into the centre of Newcastle as at first Daniel needed to go to his bank to withdraw the cash for the deposit on the flat. We parked in the most peculiar carpark which was like a spiral and it made me for one feel really giddy as we kept driving up and up and round and round and eventually found a place to park. It was after we'd parked than Carol again said that there was definitely something wrong with the car.

We drove to the new flat, which is in an area of Newcastle with an odd name. Spiral Tongues. I stayed behind in the flat as Carol and Daniel were going to the old flat to get some of his things in the car and it meant that, without me, they would have more space to transport stuff.

It was at least three hours later that Carol and Daniel reappeared, along eh Lauren, Daniel's girlfriend who had caught up with them in the city centre.  They had come back, having got a cab as the car had broken down. I had imagined as I waited for them that perhaps they had gone to a garage as Daniel had mentioned that there was a Kwit-Fit auto centre not far away and we should take the car there. It turned out that the car had eventually broken down in the centre of Newcastle and they'd ended up at a garage some way out of the city centre where it was left to be repaired, as it was the clutch which had caused all the problems. It was going to cost in excess of £300 and it wouldn't be ready until the next morning, Saturday. We walked into the city centre, a good distance, through the university campus and saw a great many interesting sculptures and managed to arrive at a Wetherspoon's pub called the "Five Swans" where we had dinner. Having walked all that way we got a taxi cab back to the new flat, and Daniel went back to his old flat to sleep. We had to make do as best we could at the flat, without much kitchen equipment or food. Next morning we walked into the city centre and found a Tesco's open near the  St James' Park football stadium and bought some food which we ended up eating as we sat in the rather picturesque Leazes Park where we heard the most pleasant flute music which turned out to be played by a young man near the lake where there were a lot of geese and ducks. It looks as if this park is currently being restored which is good because it is in something of a poor state of repair. A great shame to let such delightful places become so dilapidated.

It wouldn't be until around midday before we eventually get a call via mobile phone to say that the car had been repaired and was ready for collection, so we ordered another taxi cab and went to the garage where we paid for the repair work and drove away, back to Daniel's old flat where we loaded some of his belongings into the car and drove to the new flat and unloaded it.

By now we had realised that the work of ferrying Daniel's belongings to the new flat was going to take longer than we had originally intended, due in most part because of not having the car for over 24 hours, so Carol and I decided that we would need to stay a day longer to get the work done and so would have to return home on Sunday and trusted that Gary, our neighbour, would have realised something had happened to delay our return and would continue to keep and eye on our two dogs. Daniel had to go to work at 6 o'clock at the near-by Holiday Inn and wouldn't be ready to continue with the move until around 8.30 on Sunday morning (his shift at the hotel finished at 2 a.m.)

On Saturday evening we went to get chicken and chips from a near-by chip shop to Daniel's new flat in Spital Tongues and we slept the night at the flat.

We had to phone and text Daniel after 8 o'clock to make sure he was awake and ready to continue with the moving of his stuff to the new flat and we eventually arrived outside at 8.45, taking some time to rouse Daniel who wasn't feeling very well, unfortunately.

After several further loads of belongings, including his iMac computer and a load of other related items including the carcase of a four-drawer chest of drawers.

By the time we'd completed the move it was time to depart Newcastle-Upon-Tyne and drove back to Milton Keynes and got back at around 4.30, having stopped twice, once at Ferrybridge and the second, near Leicester.

May Bank Holiday Monday outing to Wimpole Hall and Home Farm

On Saturday morning Carol had a hair appointment at Arcana In Shenley Brook End booked for 8.30. We were there bright and early, intact far too early and we sat in the car and saw the staff arrive and once it was completed we decided, as it was such a bright and sunny morning to go out somewhere in the car and headed towards Buckingham. We went into Tesco in Buckingham as I needed to get so cholesterol-reducing drinks which we'd forgotten on our trip to Morrison's on Friday evening. We were surprised how quiet it was. Very few customers. Might it be something to do with the fact that Aldi have recently opened a store only a mile or so out of Buckingham? It would be partly be who Tesco have lost so much money over the last year or so. We came out and went to Bicester Avenue garden centre for a wander round and didn't stay long, dropping to to a garden centre outside Buckingham and had coffee and sandwiches before heading home. Just getting out of Milton Keynes for a couple of hours did us a world of good.

Today, as it's a Bank Holiday, and as the weather was so fine and sunny we decided to visit another National Trust property. We had considered a swim at D.W. Fitness, but there was a marathon on in Milton Keynes and it was either beginning or ending at the M.K. Stadium, which is where the gym is situated, so it seemed a better option to get out of Milton Keynes before the marathon began, hence our drive out of the town at 8 a.m. and heading towards the M.1 and the road towards Cambridge, Caxton and the route to Wimple Hall and Home Farm which is near Royston. We have been on several other occasions, but not for a number of years so it was quite a change to visit today. We got to Wimpole Hall at around 9.40, so we had to wait because it didn't open until 10 a.m. we were surprised that it took less than an hour to reach the place, no doubt put down to the fast dual carriageway that has been built between the M.1 at Brogborough right through to the Black Cat roundabout on the A.1. When we arrived there were few cars in the carpark, but by the time we left around two and a half hours later the place was positively heaving with humanity and there was a long queue of vehicles making it's way into the grounds. It was just as well we had arrived so early.

We went into the stable block where we got our tickets for the Hall, Garden and Home Farm and Carol purchased a back-pack in the shop which meant we could carry our bits and pieces around the garden and farm.

We went to have coffee and sausage rolls in the restaurant to start off our day and then walked to Home Farm, a 10-minute walk from the house. We spent some time looking at the animals and then walked back, stopping off to look at the walled garden and Carol came across a lady gardener who was selling rhubarb and then we walked back towards the house. We entered through the front and Carol had to leave the back-pack at the entrance as they wouldn't allow visitors to take luggage around the house because there would be a possibility of knocking into valuable items. We spent a little longer walking around the grounds before we went back to the carpark and drove home to Milton Keynes. We dropped in to Waitrose in Chaffron Way as we needed salad and one or two other items that we inadvertently forgot from our shopping trip to Morrison's on Friday. Just surprised by how busy it was considering that it was a Bank Holiday.

When we arrived home there were some stragglers still running past on the Redway as part of the marathon. It's just as well we went out when we went out otherwise we'd have been stuck in the house all day.

It seems we got the best of the day because as I write this it has got considerably colder and it's raining quite hard.

Rain Stopped Play

Carol has been on Half Term all this week.  We took Daniel to Stanstead Airport last Saturday, going down to St Albans to collect him at around 1 o'clock and then delivering him at Stanstead at around 4 p.m. He went off to Amsterdam. The journey wasn't too bad, and we came back up the M11 towards Cambridge and then back to Bedford and eventually back home to Milton Keynes, using the new road between Bedford and the M1 at Brogborough which has only recently been opened and certainly speeded up our journey. You can get from the Black Cat roundabout on the A1 and onto the relatively-new Bedford By-Pass and then onto the new road near Kempston and home.

I have suffered with a really awful cough for the past couple of weeks, then Carol got it. We would have gone out, but she's been really ill and spent two days in bed. On top of that the weather's been really awful, raining more or less continuously. So it's been a rather dull sort of week. We don't, as a rule, spend our time in doors when we have a chance to get out and about, and, what with the really awful weather over Christmas, due to snow and more snow and frost and cold and really awful conditions, the past week hasn't exactly helped. Let's hope the next school holiday the weather and our health allows us to get out and about.

Today is the first anniversary of our moving to this house, which is to be celebrated, most definitely, considering what we had to endure at the last house (read earlier posts.)

Well, for you cricket fans, I don't wish to disappoint you (with reference to the title I gave this post.) I personally detest cricket, but the name seemed appropriate. Being forced to watch the wretched game as a child at school, and then having to play it was enough to put me off permanently for life. If someone had had some sense and had explained to be the basic rules of the game I might, possibly, have taken more interest in what was going on.  But they didn't so there you go. Football has about the same sort of effect on me. It bores me ridgid. I'm not a great fan of rugby either, but at least it's a bit more EXCITING. Running around a muddy playing field in the middle of winter in a howling gale and rain pouring down wasn't exactly going to make me want to like it. I really have better things to do with my time.