This is my Dad’s house and where I mostly grew up. It has lots of garden and an orchard and fields and woods, and a stream. I love it now, but I guess when I was a teenager I thought it was about the most boring place in the universe :D
A super garden seat that my Dad made. I like to sit out here in the morning sunshine with my coffee and leaf through New Scientist or watch the little birds coming to the kitchen door looking for breakfast.
I spent lots of my youth roaming around the neighbouring fields and valleys, looking for (a) excitemint, (b) drink, or (c) girls. I suppose I did not find much of any of them, so now I make sure I bring some of all three with me when I visit ;D
Wizzo poppies in the garden.
And so the curfew tolls the knell of another parting day and the moping owl does to the moon complain, of such as wandering near her secret bower, molest her ancient solitary reign (potry).
(Originally posted 2006-06-18)
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