I am a little late with my latest entry, so apologies, in fact i have been slipping on the diary front full stop.
I used to wonder where the time disappeared when i worked full time, now my work is occasional
and very much part time...i still do not know where it goes?
Anyway enough of my meandering, the most important event that happened in November and my first return to the UK for eighteen months, was my father turning eighty and my brother who hit the big five O in September.
Returning to the UK....hmmm, a bit sceptical, looking forward to seeing friends and family, but not looking forward to flying back on my own and leaving Marc and our brood behind.
Marc kindly dropped me at the airport, we put the baggage in hold and then tried to combine computer and case with handbag...no easy task. It is a while since i have flown, then we parted and i was left to my own devices. I wandered around taking in the scenes, maybe not so bad if you have not done it for a while, time went and soon i was on a plane. My little brother (though not is stature) was there to pick me up. He had just arrived after a very torturous journey to get there, i was extremely grateful though the driving did not get any better on the way to Henley.
On arrival, thinking that we would be earlier than we were, dad had booked us into the Maltsters for an evening meal, so we had time to bag drop and dash! the maltsters, rotherfield greys
Later after a very nice meal, we collapsed at home and opened a bottle of red that i had bought with me sat by the fire and chatted, it was way after midnight before the three of us went to bed.
The next morning heralded my dad's big day, although not officially until the eleventh. Mark and i having discussed the night before were dispatched to pick up 'high command' my aunt and my dad's special lady friend, hopefully arriving on the same train at Reading although from different destinations.
All went according to plan, even though we are unable to get hold of them and at this time separate they were ringing each other from the same carriage. Next stop the quince tree in the very pretty village of Stonor. check out their restaurant, cafe and shop
We were greeted with a glass of prossecco and many faces, most of whom i had grown up with and one or two new ones.
The food was superb and beautifully presented, the staff were also excellent, attentive but not pushy, and remembered everyone's choices. ie fussy pots like me that do not entertain potatoes!
I was sat next to Bob on my left who moved to the close to the end of years in Henley, but a very good friend of my youngest brother and on my right my home economics teacher from secondary school.
Despite my angst with school, we had a great chat about who she still kept in touch with since retirement and memories of these people came flooding back.
Below some pics of the venue and party.....
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| head of the table and of course chief sommelier! |
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| there were three starters, this is dad's and my favourite......very tasty |
After this beautiful scallop starter, i opted for sea bass, also on the menu was steak and a vegetarian option. This i followed a bit skeptically with cheese, this is only because i love all cheese, but i find the cheese of our region ie the Pyrenees hard to beat, indeed other beautiful cheeses throughout France. There was a good and generous choice of cheese with handmade biscuits. The dessert to my left looked very delicious and sure not to disappoint.
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| the decor was striking, as is the pose struck by my brother Mark and dad's neighbour Chris |
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| at least five different cheese to choose from plus a sumptuous chutney |
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| Mum's sister, Rosemary with dad in con flab! |
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| Jonathan my other brother in heavy collusion with Carol, always a dangerous combo! |
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| ....listening to Dad's speech. |
I think a good afternoon was had by all and Shona and Rosemary came back to Henley for tea. Mark and i made an exit to meet the rest of his family who had come down to Reading for the weekend.
Joel, my nephew had cunningly landed a room of his own in the premier inn where they were staying
so as a young teen...this was cool. Mark went out with Joel after some banter to get a snack that we could eat in the hotel room, they came back armed with supplies and enough to feed an army.
After conjuring up a plan for Saturday including a meal for dad that we would cook, Mark took me back to dads and returned to Reading.
One of the redeeming features for me, about living in the close is that the house backed onto fields, miles of them. As a keen naturalist inspired by dad it was essential to me..so opening the curtains in the morning to pheasant, field fare, woodpeckers, jays and roe deer ten feet from the house was lovely. However that was my brothers room when i was young, i looked onto the close, but it did not stop me escaping into the fields at every given chance.
I spent an enjoyable next day with dad, joined by Mark and his family, we walked and chatted down by Marsh lock and then after a run round tescos and a snack lunch Beccy and i prepared supper for six.
It was great to spend the day with them, something I probably have not done for a very long time.
Dad enjoyed deep and meaningful conversations with Joel.
Later they returned to their hotel.
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| a bit of a grey day, but a pretty part of the Thames |
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| my brother and his daughter Anna, being mischievous? |
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| Anna and Joel looking on...at mark being stupid |
On Sunday, i got to meet up with my gardening mates. Lonn, Kenny and Pauline travelled down to share a pub lunch at the Maltsters, it was really lovely to see them, they also had a torturous drive down!
But it was brilliant to catch up share some gossip, good company and a good laugh. Good food again
the staff were very friendly, especially the landlord...good repartee, could even sort Pauline out!!?
They came back to meet my brother and my dad, and stayed for a cup of tea. While Kenny strutted
round the garden giving dad some free gardening advice.
I was sorry to see them go....at this point, especially as i had not caught up with Jonathan it made me think that i should have stayed a bit longer.
On Monday dad and i had decided on a walk in the chilterns, Red Kite country (made me feel at home)
we parked up on the edge of Aston Rowant national nature reserve for a walk. Dad wanted to make me back to the quince tree restaurant too look at the shop, to identify some small goodies that we would like to put under the Christmas tree. That really was not too difficult, i settled on some gourmet popping corn and truffle and porcini infused olive oil....thanks dad. After that we had lunch in the adjoining cafe.
Later i cooked us some supper, before retiring relatively early for bed, must have been the fresh chiltern air.
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| wild juniper bushes are common, here |
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| a mild bright day for the time of year and place |
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| with some pretty good views over the oxford plains |
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| why have i got a red spot on my bum? |
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| all wrapped up and ready to Rumba |
On the actual day of Dad's eightieth, he had a hot date for lunch and i was not invited...but i said it was up to him it was his big day. So i thought about how i could make it work for me and after considering a country walk, i thought actually it has been a long time since i perused the shops of Henley. So after acquiring Dad's front door key, i set about a walk down memory lane, or rather valley road up past George Harrisons house and into town. Called into the gallery ex fire station because i saw some pretty
mountain paintings and it reminded me of home. Anyway i shopped until i dropped, suddenly the entire British contingent, family anyway were covered for Christmas and even Anna bears birthday mid December. I was like the cheshire cat that had swallowed the cream, back home to wrap. Dad and Susan came back from a lovely lunch...we chatted for a while.
Later Mark came to say goodbye as he needed to get back up to Cambridge so i offloaded him with various presents.
Wednesday was a fleeting visit and a very nice lunch with Rosemary, mum's sister. I say fleeting because the journey was long and fraught, what should have been journey of three hours to three and a half hours max there and back, took over six. I was driving dad's car, which was very easy ....but the sheer volume of traffic was not, coupled with bad weather conditions on the way back. sadly for me
made an enjoyable meeting, not so good.
Thursday was my journey home...luckily the taxi to gatwick did not encounter either my mine or my brothers earlier problems. I was sad to leave dad and friends...but could not help the excitement i felt about returning to my new home.
Taxi driver was into dogs and had a very unusual Turkish sheepdog, so we were chatting cheerily all the way. In fact the journey both ways flight wise was pretty painless....maybe because i have not done it for about four years. Before i knew it even the two hours at the airport had flown by, and i was walking down the aisle in the plane. When a person covered his face, he was five rows down same aisle same seat no. "what you doing here' "i might ask the same, quick text Marc not to pick you up" found my seat and duely did as i was told. Geoff is a friend of ours and lives less than ten minutes out of Castelnau. Alas Marc did not get the text, he had his own panics that day, flat tyre no less. So he was there to greet both of us.
happy to be home with my family, as for my quick sojourn to Angleterre i enjoyed catching up with dad, family and friends.
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| Marc on my return rustling up something for our anniversary, on my return home...in his food lab |
