This was a day that, when the car moved, it was 2°C and feeling like-2°c at 10.43am; its milometer hit 33000 at the top of a steep downhill road called Sandy Lane, a nearby river looked high (unsurprisingly – after all the storms with names that have passed by recently); the current design of the Longbridge roundabout made me wonder if the 2nd Spaghetti Junction could be evolving (and who gave the first its nickname); and I saw roads called Saturn Way and Neptune Drive. Ettington had a very pretty little church in it, and roadworks on the one road through it, so Mum did her weird finger waving (she’s reasonably humorous about this – and the possibility that it gets the lights to change) while creeping the car up to the little traffic lights (and it worked); and a Red Wings horse rescue centre and a natural burial ground were what I saw before Upton House (a National Trust property) was reached at 11.25am – visiting for a look round an exhibition about Aesop’s Fables.
We went down the drive to the café; and ‘Moo’ beef and ale pie was among things on the menu there, the Wi-Fi was connectable, and the Met Office said it was 2°c; there were individual pictures of the Nine Muses on the walls (of misery, astronomy, poetry, tragedy, comedy, singing, dancing, and music). A half Nigerian half Scottish man called David Olusoga who’s done a TV series on the British empire was mentioned to me – then I forget when we moved because the quiet orchard got entered, a sign told us to ‘take a moment to pause engage your senses’, apples and mole hills were all over the grass, and there was a health and safety notice at the other end.
Chainsaw noises were coming from somewhere nearby, Mum farted (and blamed the treacle tart), a robin twittered, big red berries were on something that wasn’t a holly tree, 2 men with big orange helmets on were making lots of loud noise with strimmers, black duck like birds that we thought could be coots were in the big pond (officially ‘the mirror pool’), and several baby ones were popping up out of the water (Mum wondered if they were called cootlings) (and I checked – they are called cootlings or can be called cooties); and a wiggly path amidst 350 cedar trees with massive and even wigglier roots and ironstone.
Out the back were iced up and slippy puddles, chainsaw noises could still be heard, I was losing feeling in my fingers, and the buggy that can transport people was coming down the drive as we approached the house, which had a big wreath on the door and a couple of trees in the lobby.
A man in a suit and tie was playing the piano in a room inside – and had a bag of absolutely ancient music papers/scripts (I couldn’t remember what they were called)(and I checked that too – they’re scores), and a statue of what may’ve been a bull was on top of the piano, a cactus was in a pot, and 3 lit up Christmas trees had a board – telling people about The Vain Jackdaw – next to them; and a bird statue that looked like a slightly mutated dark blue penguin with a very pointy beak.
Infrared reflectography was mentioned in there; and then 3 Christmas trees could be seen from above before going down some wooden stairs next to another tree; and a big wooden leopard was doing the cat yoga position – amidst lots and lots of porcelain.
Once on a level with those trees, I noticed a wooden chicken family, and a wooden duck was visible inside the wooden hen house; there were lots of paintings of half naked ladies on the walls; and the house was left again at 1.26pm and my fingers started going numb again.
A metal statue of a couple of hares having a face off was amongst plant pots for sale, a wooden hut contained a big model chicken and a note on the door said ‘please do not open these doors. We don’t want Morag the chicken to get cold’. Soft toy clementines, snowball curd, Jingle Brie, extra jam, Christmas pudding biscuits, Raspberry and white chocolate chip biscuits, Kentish ale, soft toy clementines, soft toy moles, and Pocket Optik binoculars were in the shop and then Mum wanted lunch.
I – once seated – decided to photograph my plate and see if Google could identify the substance later (which it did – and told me was brie and cranberry tart):
plates were consumed, a couple (in their late 70s→early 80s) were holding hands across a table, Google Maps pointed out Bog Cottage on it nearby, and it was 2:20pm when we moved. My teeth started chattering again, Mum had a Christmas pudding wedged under her arm, I spotted an interesting mushroom in the woodland walk area, and the car thought it was 1°C when it moved at 2:35pm. Very little but fields were visible from the road through Edgehill (which is on the edge of a hill); the MOD place called Falcongate wasn’t far away and a sign warned of guard dogs patrolling; Kineton was a bit bunged up with cars and school kids seemed to be out and about, and a place a little bit outside of the village said Alchemie on it. Sun was out and sinking, I spotted Chesterton Windmill and wondered if it still turns (Google later told me that it does – as new sails were installed in April this year), Mum tried to make sheep noises, a garage advertising exhaust repairs made me wonder why exhausts are called exhausts, Megasun and ergoline sunbeds were advertised by a shop; and then the lower end of the town was wiggled through, and a furniture shop called Wharton’s had odd multi-coloured pictures/paintings of dogs visible in it. I forgot when we got home, the fire got lit – and there, I regained feeling in my fingers again by clutching a mug of tea.
