Memories and Souvenirs of Life

We all collect things in life and attach ourselves to all manner of things, keeping memories with momentos, souvenirs and photographs.

Last Sunday Andrew, Pip and I went for a walk to Barrington Court. We set off early and trundled through the country lanes and buttercup fields, passing the sheep with a limp, the barking dogs at the farm gate defending their territory and the swooping swallows in the clear blue sky above us. We chit chattered away the promise of an ice cream lured Pip on to our destination.

We arrived in good spirits with the thought of ice cream at the forefront of our minds. As we lay back in the National Trust deck chairs we devoured our ice creams in the warmth of the spring sunshine with hardly a word spoken. Now with the mission accomplished we had the journey home, which seemed a lot further than we had just come. We had barely started when the conversation turned to ‘I’m bored’, ‘My legs ache’ and ‘How much further to go?’

Seeing the hill up ahead I knew distraction tactics were going to be required and fortunately a stone was all it took.

‘Can you kick that stone into the pothole?’ ‘Over the drain?’ ‘The next two potholes?’ Pip kicked the stone for a mile, up the lane, across the top and down the lane. The stone has now been named Steve and has become a new cherished member of the family and a memento of our walk to Barrington Court and back.

p.s. Regarding last week’s blog about the burnt rice, Andrew would like recognition for his devotion and hard work scrubbing and scrapping my saucepan clean, so thank you Andrew from the bottom of my heart and the bottom of my saucepan.