Hail and Farewell

It's been a disgracefully long time since the last transmission, no doubt a disappointment to my countless followers. But I kind of expected it after seeing the state the house and garden were in when I got back from the US. These last couple of months I have been eyes down trying to rectify it all. That and redoing the book meant here wasn’t much time for communicating with the rest of the world or for relaxation, apart from the odd family trip and my weekly injection at Caffe Nero.

But I must say that I am pleased with the results. Both the House and garden are looking much better and bedded down for autumn and winter. Of course there’s still loads to do. The Granny Annex is now up and running after two floods. Complete with antique rugs from Kashmir and Afghanistan, courtesy of Cousin Clive.  The recent awful events in Spain are concerning so just in case the annex is sand-bagged to a level significantly higher higher than it was last time – as well as a big new water-diversion system done. I am very much a belt-and-braces man. The water ends up in the road on the corner anyway, but I had rather it didn’t do so via the annex and garage. This year the Annex has been a major unlooked for extra commitment.

The latter has also been the site of an unremitting war against rodents after the £ 2000 damage they did to the car. So far 12 to 1 to me, which just suggests the scale of the problem. - and that doesn't count the three totally desiccated ones I found in the loft when giving it a last check before the taxi arrived. Regardless of such victories,  I still don’t dare put the car away in the garage.

Anyway all this helps explain the silence from my end recently.

Highlights of the time included a great family weekend at Burgess Hill where nearly all the clan were able to assemble despite the lurginess (clearly not a word, but you’ll know what I mean)  of some of its members. Not just no ill-effects but a great tonic, not least the opportunity to revisit Wakehurst Place gardens, utterly transformed from the time when were based at Crawley Down. It was unrecognisable. Also vast numbers of visitors – hard to believe how to believe so many. All present were on fine form. Here are the two junior princesses. It was all really fun.

And so, in a different way, was a school reunion of about a dozen (very) old boys from Bishop Wordsworth’s Grammar School at the White Hart hotel in Salisbury. A convivial lunch was followed up for those of us with the energy to go on a tour of the school afterwards. Again, great differences – a Reception and check-in system, though no fire-arm detectors quite yet. My particular aim was to get back inside the building in the Quad that was for the civilized members of the school, namely the Arts Sixth Form. It was in a

building accessible from the Cathedral Close16^th Century if not earlier. I had a minder, the very personable and assured Head Boy and he said he enjoyed it too as he had never been into this part of the school. I was searching for the small oak panelled room which a very small ultra-select group of us used as our base camp. This was indeed located, but in the throes of the investigation I inadvertently poked into the Headmaster’s office, again oak panelled, much bigger of course and with a lovely fireplace. I had no idea it was there. He was a bit surprised but was charming about the intrusion and we had a nice little chat. My minder was impressed. The holy of holies obviously. Here the inspecting party may be seen outside the more prosaic part of the school. ( I wasn't putting myself forwards - it was just where I happened to be standing when our guide took the picture.  Interesting to see that the prestigious Science block opened by Dr Bronowski in the early 1960s was looking distinctly worse for wear in comparison. Interesting also, if in a different way, was the double-take when we told then what year we were,

There were also a few other nice distractions too, a weird dinner party in Oxford to commemorate the appearance of a major work on the history of the Royal Navy at which I was strangely feted for being an apparently significant but unconscious contributor. A fun meeting of the Friends of Friendless Churches at Long Crichel, Dorset, followed. Two of the highlights of this were sitting down on a low table tomb, next to a lady on her own who turned out to be an Art Historian Prof, at Winchester - very interesting - and being given the most enormous slab of cake (plus another to take home !) I’ve ever had. Bad for the diet but fantastic. The more conventional members of the group used the blue tables you can see here. Cherry and I had 'done' the church before of course. This was a different church group - in Dorset after all so I wasn't on duty this time. Much more relaxing. En route I inflicted myself for coffee on Tony and Maya in Shaftesbury. 

A work visit to the IMO [International maritime Organisation- a UN outfit that regulates the global shipping industry] with an amazing view of the Thames and another to Trinity House. In the margins of this I managed to squeeze in a trip to Till-Jones land in Walthamstow but a major KCL reunion already booked up had to be cancelled because of flooding on the railway line. Long story but not for now 

And so to all points East once again, but now for the last hurrah….