The boy black bird was waiting for his breakfast. I watch fascinated as he pops as many currants as possible in. Scooting off to the bare earth he drops them and is either rearranging his scoop or rolling them about a bit to collect dust for some unknown reason before coming back for another lot. When absolutely no more can be rammed in he flies of.
It's not until I turn down the drive that I member the horses, a tiny foal curled up and dozing. A private chapel is part of the estate with huge carved memorials and the tiniest marble alter. um! I am here along with 101 others wandering around a garden that I want to camp out in. It is so big I manage to find a quiet corner by a lake to sit and ponder why the gnats are dashing about with no apparent purpose. And if they live life in the fast lane is it a short and sweet one?
Oh my gawd there I am topless in the bedroom and farmer Rex raises his hand in manner of royal wave from his beat up land-rover. I hope it wasn't at me, being a bachelor well over 60 who has lived with his mum all his life, the shock could be huge.
Bit of this
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