Beautiful Hawkesbury

At the weekend we headed out for a walk in the Cotswolds, with the promise of a metaphorical carrot at the end of it.  As it happened everyone was in a pretty good mood, so the carrot wasn't essential.

At the end of this field a view opened up, described as the finest in Gloucestershire.

Can't argue with that.  We headed down quite a way next, to the ancient village of Hawkesbury.   It's a tiny place now, apparently it was abandoned when plague struck, and now only a few houses remain, along with a beautiful church that dates back in part to Saxon times, and has bits from pretty much every period since then.

Outside the church were the most fantastic blocks of yew, and a little gateway was cut into one of the trees.  I may have mentioned before how much I love yew.

Inside the church was beautiful in that still, timeless way that old churches have.

It really was such a pleasure to visit.  Outside we began to climb slowly back up to the top.

There is a Bronze Age burial mound to the right of the hill, and some terracing where in ancient times the land was cultivated.  This area has been settled for thousands of years.  Quite amazing to think about.

Further on we could see a much newer landmark, the Hawkesbury Monument, built in the 1800s.

We ended up in Hawkesbury Upton, the "new" village where we were told people moved when plague struck Hawkesbury.  There's a nice pub there, the Beaufort Arms, and out the back we found the metaphorical carrot.

Another Gromit.  He's a long way from the other Gromits, but nonetheless there was a steady stream of visitors.  The Gromit trail is proving very popular I think.

It's hard to express how lovely this walk was.  It was one of those days when everything just works.  Nobody complained, there were stunning views, a little historical interest, fascinating locals to chat to, sheep to chase (ahem, I did put a stop to that), some real walking to do and some hills but not too many  The littlest boy did get stung by stinging nettles quite a bit, but he was incredibly brave, and in a moment of huge brotherly loveliness the biggest boy found some dock leaves and rubbed them on his chunky little legs for him.  If only every walk could go this well.

We had a little mooch around Tetbury the other weekend.  It's somewhere we used to go Before Children, but given the amount of lovely antique shops and other smart establishments we tend to give it a wide berth now.

But we were in the mood for something a little classier, so everyone promised not to touch anything and not to play tag in the middle of the pavement (they do that, oh yes they do, we are that family) and off we set.

Much of this Cotswold town dates from the 16th and 17th century, and there are many beautiful buildings.

This is The Close Hotel, built in 1535 during the reign of Henry VIII.  I've heard it's wonderful, and every time I see it in summer I long to have afternoon tea on the lawn - the gardens are supposed to be beautiful.  But my budget is more along the lines of cookies and juice brought from home, and besides that, the children would definitely be playing tag if they saw a wide expanse of grass.  So I contented myself with looking at the outside.

Nice, huh?  There's other nice stuff too.

These are the houses at the top of Chipping Steps.  The steps have been there since medieval times in one form or another, and again some of the houses date back to the 16th and 17th century.  I'm trying to train other half not to walk into my photos.  Limited success so far.

The front gardens were an inspiration.  I really must do something with my bare patch of gravel.  Although it probably helps if your house looks something like this to start with.

Can you see the roof?  Wonderful.  I should have got a better shot of it.  For some reason I also missed taking a picture of the market building, which is amazing.  Next time.  I also missed taking a shot of Marco Pierre White who was strolling up the high street.  Probably not next time, I don't think I have the paparazzi gene.  I did get this picture though...

We found him in an antiques shop.  The children are obsessed with wild boar, being as they read "Asterix" quite a bit.  (Obelix eats wild boar by the dozen.)    The label says "Harry" Boar's Head £420.  Unfortunately he wasn't in the budget either.  But the very next time I have £420 to spare...

I've been trying to think of a Harry quote to put as the title of this post, but I've not come up with any.  I'm no good at captions, but I'm sure the perfect one is out there somewhere.  Any suggestions gratefully received.  I'll leave it blank for now...

Home, home on the range, where the frogs and the guinea pigs play

Last week there was I think one too many picnics in a row, one too many long days out.  There was a little tiredness followed by a little grumpiness and slightly more than a little shouting.  I learned my lesson.  This week there has been more down time.  A couple of trips to libraries, with something for everyone.  That's always a favourite thing to do, for all of us.  When we get home from a library there is always complete silence as books are discovered and digested.

A little pottering in the garden.  A couple of raised beds have been cleared.  Old raspberry canes were cut out and new ones tied in.  Hanging baskets were disposed of.  They were past their best and at this time of year disappearing into the rampaging grape vines.  The sweet peas have been really disappointing this year, but they have a reprieve for now.

Thanks to the regular showers the grass is back.  Just a month ago it was dry and brown.  It's still really patchy because of the incredibly hard use it gets, and it's still full of weeds, but there is actual green grass and the piggies are happy.

A little baking was done.  These contained blueberries and blackcurrants.  And a little chocolate.  An unusual combination I think, but I like to throw in whatever's to hand.  And they were pretty nice.  I forgot to take a picture of them once they'd been cooked.  I always do.  I enjoy seeing food on blogs, but there is no clue as to how people keep the ravening hoards away from the food long enough to photograph it.  If I paused to take pictures before serving there would be a mutiny.

After I made these I carefully washed my lovely mixing bowl.  Then I immediately wiped it up, so it wasn't hanging about dangerously on the draining board.  And then I smashed it.  Sigh.  I honestly am so completely clumsy, and it's only ever a matter of time before anything I have is broken.  It does make me so cross, especially when it's something I really like.  Oh well, worse things happen at sea.

A ridiculous amount of apples were eaten.  Twelve (organic) ones disappeared in 36 hours.  I'm going to have to ration them I think.  The same thing with grapes.  I put out a new bunch in the bowl, and next time I look there's just a big stalky bit left.  I know it's good for them to eat fruit, but when I worked out how much it's all costing it made me feel peculiar.  I'm thinking of putting apple trees in at the allotment...

Plenty of Lego-ing was done.  Most of it accompanied by an apple.

We had another bash at doing this puzzle ball.  We've mostly done the land, just those pesky oceans left.  There's so much of them, they're all blue and it's very confusing.



And we spent quite a bit of time peering into the pond at these.  Little froglings, at last!  Most of them are tiny, and we still have plenty of tadpoles in various stages of frogginess.  But there are some definite froglets now, hopping about on land.  We are riveted.

We're rested now, and ready for a little more adventure.

A little Gromit spotting

In and around Bristol this summer there are eighty Gromits, decorated by celebrities and local artists,and which will be auctioned in September to raise money for the local children's hospital.  While they're on display you can go round to see them all, with a special map and a passport that can be stamped in six locations.  It's the kind of thing that small boys can get quite obsessed with.  We took the bus, which cost £10 for five of us, and in fact with that ticket you can go as far as Wiltshire, Somerset, Dorset, even Cornwall.

Apparently we saw twenty-four Gromits.  (I lost count after about five).  I promise I won't show you all twenty-four...

One of the first ones we found, named Canis Major, was at the lovely Hotel du Vin.

There'd also been a little themed yarn bombing.

This one was at the Old Vic Theatre.  It's Butterfly by Philip Treacy.  The littlest boy is standing in front of a poster for "The Boy Who Cried Wolf".  Coincidentally.

Along from the theatre is a pub called the Llandoger Trow which dates from the mid-1660s.

I don't visit Bristol much any more, so it was good to be back, and see some of the stunning architecture.  This is Corn Street, the old financial district.  When I go there I always look up.

This one's Hound Dog by Sir Peter Blake, found at the Arnofini Gallery.  He was one of the simpler ones,but he did make me smile.

This was Joanna Lumley's Gromit, Poetry in Motion, outside of the Cathedral.

We walked along to the Central Library as well, somewhere we used to visit regularly.  Inside was Axel Schaeffler's offering, The Gromalo.

In need of a break from the city streets we headed up Park Street towards Brandon Hill.  On the way we stopped at St Georges to see Sir Gromit of Bristol.

It was lovely to have a big green space to run around on for a bit.  We played in the play area, then climbed to the top of the hill and walked back to Park Street to see a final couple of Gromits.  This one, by Nick Park himself, was called News Hound, and is in the wonderful Bristol Museum.

By this time the little people were pretty much worn out.  We trotted down to the bus station and headed for home.  This was my fourth long day out with them in a row, and it's safe to say they were finally worn out.  And I was certainly Gromitted out.  Although there are of course 56 that we haven't seen yet...

Red, white and blue

So enjoying this lovely summer of ours here in beautiful Britain.

Little duckies and dozens of peacock butterflies at Slimbridge.  We took a picnic.

Blackcurrant crumble.  With a few other berries in there for good measure.  Dealing happily with this little glut.  I had some great courgette recipe suggestions in the comments for the last post that I shall be trying.  I may also take to referring to them as zucchini when the children ask me what they're eating.

Even the guinea pigs are getting some summer deliciousness - the peel from an allotment cucumber.  They love it.  If I should find myself with too many cucumbers they'll get a bigger chunk; it's one of their favourite things.

I got a bit of a bargain at the local Sort-It Centre a couple of days ago.  I was after a spade and a fork that I can keep at the allotment.  They had some, but not in the shop area.  But the nice chap there let me choose a fork, and take the only spade, for free!  It really made my day.

Especially as the fork has these magic words on it.

It also says "Unbendable" which makes me happy too.

Enjoying the summer rain, even when it's a bit of a deluge.

Drying onions in between showers.

A little garden inspiration from the library.  The Allotment Folk are wonderful.

It's been a happy busy few days of picnics, parks, pools and friends.  I visited a friend near Ashton Court in Bristol today, where the Bristol Balloon Fiesta is taking place.  At 4 o'clock, this happened.

A flying display by the unrivalled Red Arrows.  It was absolutely thrilling, and we were all shrieking every time they flew over.  Fortunately you couldn't really hear anything over the screaming of the engines.  It's hard to articulate how sensational they are.  I had goosebumps.

Oh I do love Britain in the summertime.