Tuesday, 27 August 2019

We're going on a book hunt

I'm back in my old haunts, up on the hill, dog walking when I make an interesting discovery.

I haven't been up here for months but I vow to thee my country that I'll get back to my old routine and do this early morning walk at least three times every week. At 28 kilos, Arty certainly needs the exercise. And me, at ahem I prefer not to mention but said quickly in imperial measures is at least a stone too heavy, well, I need to exercise too.

It's late summer and the children are still on holiday but ready to go back to school soon, with new uniforms, shoes backpacks, sandwich boxes and pencil cases all to shop for this week. 

(It always irritated me immensely that high street stores insisted on 'Back to School' displays as soon as the children broke up for the summer. How dare these commercial types spoil the magic of holiday time. Talk about pressure.)

This morning, it's quiet on the hill until the rain starts dropping in ever increasingly large splats on the beech leaves, after a beautifully hot bank holiday weekend when the world and his wife came to Dorset to have fun.

Fortunately, Lush Places generally slips underneath the tourists' radar so that this time of year it's best to stay put to enjoy the delights of village picnics, neighbour's parties, Mr Grigg's strawberry milkshakes, the children's playground and the annual flower show. This is what country life if all about.




Up here on the hill today, the rain is refreshing after the heat and almost good enough to dance in. 

I flit around the ramparts, pretending to be an ancient Briton, a Roman or Vilia the witch of the wood. Frankly, she is more my style.

There are squirrels darting around, pigeons coo-ing, earth balls nestling under the trees, and brown leaves underfoot. There is a new swing up here.





And then I find what looks like someone's school project propped up against a tree. 


Only it is isn't.

It's We're Going on a Bear Hunt, which has been hidden by Ryan and Lewis and needs to be read and then re-hidden as part of Dorset Hidden Books.

I get rather a strange look from a cow as I make my way down the hill with the book under my arm.


And then I find another book.  


There's yet another book outside the village shop.

And I discover that more were found on the children's play area over the weekend.

Ryan and Lewis have been busy. 

Two of the books are destined for my two littlest Dorset grandchildren, who will read them with me and then hide them again. I left the third one for someone else to find.

What a great idea.

That's about it.

Love Maddie x

Wednesday, 7 August 2019

All the fun of the fete

It's the height of fete time here in France, with the weirdest, wildest, wackiest festivals you could ever imagine.

Most of them involve eating and drinking, which is perfectly fine if you're into that sort of thing. Luckily, I am.

I think I'm going native.


August is the time to have fun with friends. However old or young you are.



I could be here for some time.


This one involved rows of mussels in soaked paper and then straw put on the top and set alight.

Seems rather a convoluted way of cooking mussels en masse, but ho hum, why keep things simple?




Later this week we'll be enjoying an omelette made with two and a half thousand eggs.

Porquoi?

Porquoi pas.

That's about it.

Love Maddie x


Lanny by Max Porter, an extraordinary novel best read in splendid isolation

I’m on the Isles of Scilly with friends, the weather’s been glorious and there’s been lots of walking, paddling in the clear wat...