Cooking – Gardens. Travel. Life.

Autumn weekends can be so lovely. This weekend was one of them. As a birthday – not just a big birthday – a massive birthday treat I was taken to Oxford for the weekend by two of my closest friends.

Lunch at a mighty fine hotel, a day at Blenheim Palace and then supper with more friends in Woodstock.

Yes. Woodstock. And yes. The friends I went with soon got feed up with my childish comment ‘ you do know ‘ I’d say ‘ by the time we get to Woodstock there will be half a million strong’ …. it wore thin after a while. Unlike me.

Lunch was amazing. Glorious food. Plenty of wine. Too much cheese. Can you have too much? Yes. Definetly. The need for a walk around the garden after lunch at Le Manoir.

It’s interesting to see how the gardens at hotels with restaurants work. Here there is a glorious kitchen garden – an amazing array of veg which is used in the kitchens. Together with flower beds and lavender paths. I’m glad to say that my lavender paths in Spain could compete. They have trimmed theirs back which I will do when I am back in Spain in two weeks time.

The greenhouses are open where you can wander in and look around. What I loved as well is that most things are labelled clearly so you know what you are looking at. A bonus for a novice gardener like me.

There were some pretty interesting things around. I had never seen snake gourds before. These ones hanging down from the greenhouse roof like well. Snakes. I hate snakes. Though at first I thought they were cucumbers. But. They were clearly labelled!

There was a great display of gourds and chillis in the garden teaching space. Amazing colours. Great shapes.

The flower beds were interesting too. We had missed the best as you’d expect as Autumn falls. But there were still some intersting plants and grasses flowering. We didn’t fully explore the gardens to be fair but what we saw was great. An excuse to go back? A long wait until my next significant birthday.

It was a great contrast of a weekend. Lunch at a 2 Michelin star restaurant and breakfast at a Premier Inn.

A short drive after breakfast to Blenheim Palace. An imposing palace – birthplace of Winston Churchill and where he proposed to his wife. At this time of year the rooms on view of the palace are limited – in summer you can also view the private space. I will be back. I’m nosey. But the rooms are glorious. The artwork amazing. But I wouldn’t want their heating bills.

The estate is huge – great trees, huge massive trunks that look like feet, a rose garden, the Churchill memorial garden. A massive lake. I imagine the rose garden in full bloom is awesome. Planted with just a few varieties. Iceberg. Peace. Royal William. A pink I didn’t get the name of. The first two grown in my parents garden in the 70s. Not these roses obviously. But they grew these varieties. I suspect that the ones here weren’t bought at Woolworths gardening section though.

My mother would have had a field day. I’ve mentioned before. She was an avid deadheader. She would have been in her element. I know it’s the end of the season but there were a lot of buds still there and if the frost stays away … at some point I guess they will need to refresh the beds. A lot of dead wood. Hopefully the pruning will cut it all back.

It was a glorious walk around the Estate. A massive Estate. Amazing vistas. Awesome trees. Water. Wildlife. Tourists!

The feeling of a great TV blockbuster drama unfolding as you walked around. The boat house. The lake. But I wasn’t about to do a Mr Darcy and emerge from the lake all moody. And wet. I don’t do wet. I’m someone who has to change his swimming trunks as soon as I get out of the pool. I can be moody. But not in a Mr Darcy way. I guess more Grumoy than D’Arcy.

These were great big pots. Filled with black grass. As a friend on Instagram said ‘ I’m not sure about these. Look a bit like toupees’ – looking at them again. She’s right! But they did look great and I guess are pretty easy to manage.
Autumn is here. The leaves are turning. The colours are fab on the trees. Leaves are on the ground. For now. Crisp. Dry. Gorgeous.

By the time we got to Woodstock – I didn’t say it again. Honest. I won’t say it now.

So this time last year I was preparing for my last working day. My office had been cleared of 28 years of stuff. Precisely that – stuff. Clients had been told. Lunches had been had. Today was to be the day I retired. Not Monday the last day of the month when it was expected. Today. I would go to work as normal and at lunchtime I would depart quietly. A few goodbyes. But with no fuss. No ceromonial handshakes and the usual bollocks. An email set to go out after I had left the building. Thanking those I had respected. Valued. Loved. Saying goodbye would be bitter sweet.

I can’t believe I’m a year older. A year of retirement. Me. Retired. How did that happen. 52 weeks of not having that Monday morning feeling.

I saw friends last week who I hadn’t seen in a while. Go on they said – admit it – your bored. You must be bored by now.

My response – a huge belly laugh. Bored. Bored. You must be ‘aving a laff. What have you been doing then they asked.

Let me see. I posted A blog a few months ago on my first 6 months. That was a period of adjustment I said – but think ducks and water. Fat ducks. Lots of water.

I had lunch yesterday with an ex colleague who I hadn’t seen since Jan. You look really well she said – a comment that has been said so much this year. What have you been up to. I keep getting asked the same question and my reply is I’m busy all the time – this and that. Actually I don’t know what I’m doing. It just happens. Either that it’s on the list. Ian’s list. Of jobs.

I have had a great summer in Somerset. Gardening. Growing fruit and veg. Actually picking it and using it too. Picking tomatoes. Cucumbers. Apples pears. Grapes. Runner beans. My dad would be proud. Except I didn’t dig a trench. That’s a big black mark from him.

I picked dahlias. Constantly. Along with a whole load of other stuff from the cutting garden. Grand. What I mean is that the whole gardens for cutting!

Socialising. Spending time with my godchildren. Continuing the School runs. Being a manny for a day here and there whilst their mother worked. Think Mary Poppins but heavier and a better beard growth. Me not her. Although I’m sure hers wasn’t ginger and grey. Oh. And I can’t sing. Well I think I can I’m Welsh after all. I did annoy the kids singing raindrops on roses whiskers on kittens. And changing the words just like my mother used to.

The London boys reminded me when I picked them up from school that I used to sing with them in the car. They asked me to put that song on again – oh dear. smarty pants by First Choice. They are now 10 and 13. They remind me that i changed the title. So I did again.

We used to sing it when they were 3. It also reminded me that We had a horror with one of them. We had taken Kai to the zoo. He must have been 2 or 3. On the way home we stopped to get cakes. Me in the car. Kai in the back. Ian got in and asked what was the matter. I said listen to Kai. Closely. We are gonna be in trouble. He listened. And was horrified. He looked at me and said. That’s probably my fault. We thought he was saying F off. I turned to say no. Then burst out laughing. He actually was saying fork off. He had broken the little fork lift truck car his grandad had given him. Phew. I digress.

Having time to have days out with the children. Taking my god daughter for a ride on a steam train on a day I was looking after her. – was that for her or me? We went despite an earlier tantrum on the doorstep where I nearly said thanks but no thanks to her mother. Take her away.

Cooking with her brother – a 13 yr old 6ft rugby playing young farmer who over the summer has grown from a mono syllabic teenager into an interesting young man who can bake and talk sheep.

I’ll lead you’ll follow. Young shepherd.

And at a cost of a new pair of rugby boots and trainers he looked after my greenhouse whilst I was away. Taking a 13 year old to buy clothes was an experience in itself. He had a very definite opinion on what he wanted.

I have attended talks at the Wells festival of Literature – Vince Cable. Rev Richard Coles. Mathew Parris. Intersting. Funny. Being taken to afternoon tea by my friend Helen with whom i had days out to Bradford on Avon.

Attended courses at Common Farm Flowers Been a Saturday boy there. ( well Friday’s really) when they have had a big wedding on. With my friend Lorraine – queen of the jam jar posies Helping out.

Lorraine Queen of the jam jar posies. Bloody lovely she is too.

Me Queen of everything obviously – but on food and beverages and large arrangements. Being allowed to assist the head honcho. Not making a complete Dick of myself.

To me the highlight of my summer if I am honest. Spending 2 working days at Common Farm Flowers with Georgie Sharon and Lorraine was such fun. I’m hoping to be invited back for more in 2017! Please….

To breakfasts at Hive Beach cafe with Ian on a Monday morning in October watching the sea from the cafe.

Continuing visits to National trust properties on our days off. A bit of travel here and there. A bit like taking a gap year except more sedate and a little more luxury. I’ve seen the Alhambra. The museums of Amsterdam. The east coast of Portugal. The wonders of Vienna. The delights of Madrid. Sat up most of the night in Italy listening to the referendum vote. And going to bed at 5am and saying to Ian. We are doomed.

Short European breaks going through the EU passport gates thinking it may be the last time. Who knows even now.

A big trip to Canada – a trip of a lifetime. Bears and whales & Vancouver. A sea plane. Long car drives. Bears. Lots of them. So close you could smell their breath. Making new friends. People. Not bears.

Cooking. Baking. More cooking. Making cordials lots of them. Jellies. Cakes. Standing in the tractor bucket 20ft in the air picking bullace and making a version of sloe gin. Not whilst in the bucket but at home later! Planning for an extension that has flexible timescales. Very flexible. More flexible than me. Now maybe into 2017.

All things my time in retirement has allowed me to do.

Throw in the annual river clearance where I get to wear rubber. Waders. coffees with friends and Neighbours who are also friends – chatting with the coffee roasters at Bean Shot whilst purchasing beans and ground coffee. Or lunching at Cole Manor Tea Rooms

So that’s what I have been doing. Looking back I’ve done a lot. Throw in my endless trips for dental treatment over the summer where I travelled intercity like the men due ( anyone remember that ad) on my cheap day returns ( always an excuse to go into Selfridges) – my trips to the theatre. Continuing trips to exhibitions – Oh. And I stayed in a premier Inn. Shopped in Lidl. Pounsaver. Aldi. Eaten a ton of Lidl stollen bites set aside for Xmas.

So. I enter year 2 and whatever that brings.some things I know already. I have my annual trip to Italy booked. My trip to Chelsea flower show. The new show at Chatsworth. I have theatre booked. Hamlet. Roaencrantz and guildenstein. Mary Stuart. All booked in already.

No doubt there will be more child minding duties both in London and Somerset. More common Farm Flowers. More courses. ( billingsgate. And a Bread one are on the list) – garden planning. Meetings within the architect. Maybe an extension. More short breaks.

But whatever the next year throws at me I won’t ever have that Monday morning feeling again.

Oh. I’ve also bought myself s new camera. You may have gathered. I’ve been snapping away like my life depended on it. Ian won’t stand still. He hates his photo being taken. I’m Still rubbish at selfies.

So. Have I had a good year. Do bears ….. in the woods? They do. And in the rivers. I can vouch for that! So the answer. . YES.

Ps. If your wondering. Yes. I still have the list from Ian – the attic and cellar are still outstanding. But You’ll be glad to know the septic tanks been done. Thereby hangs another story.

Gardens. Travel. Life.

Category: Cooking

Gardens. A palace and a celebration.

Happy Anniversary to me