For Christmas Danni and Andy gave us a self assembly natty little copper and brass soap holder.
Aaron of A,P, Maintenance, with some trepidation because he had never drilled through tiles before, assembled and fixed it for us. As he said, “You never know what you can do until you try”.
We think it was for Christmas 2006 that I gave each of my sons a framed set of photographs of each of the male line from my grandfather John Francis Cecil Knight. The idea was that I would include each of us at about the age Grandpa Knight was in a photograph that Elizabeth had pointed out looked very like my youngest son, Sam.
Here, accompanied by Oliver and Alice, Michael is opening the present.
On this one, although he was much younger than the rest of us, I included Oliver. I am especially pleased at this because he now has it and treasures it. From left to right we have my grandfather, my Dad, me, Michael, and Oliver. I called it ‘The Knights’ Tail’. Heidi e-mailed these two images today.
Jackie watched Nugget quietly tolerating the long-tailed tits snaffling his food.
“Where’s Nugget?” (61)
The weather was bright and cold, with clear blue skies and some ice on the overnight precipitation. This afternoon Jackie drove me out to
Ober Water.
A week or so ago I had walked the Ober Water trail’s one mile section and back. This was a level gravelled path out of sight of the actual water. I had the idea that there may be one on the other side which would allow me to follow the river. I therefore crossed Puttle’s Bridge to discover that there was no such path, but that others had clearly
wandered along the banks.
I contemplated the soggy terrain, turned around and looked back from the bridge towards the other side. My resolve to return to the Ober Water trail and do the sensible thing didn’t last long. I was soon clambering over
tree roots, their soli severely eroded, surrounded by pools of indeterminate depths;
and swollen, reflective, streams etched across my intended route.
The river of course presented many of its own reflections.
After forty minutes of this I hadn’t progressed very far and thought it best to retrace my steps.
At the outset I had photographed a rope swing
which later proved irresistible to a brother and sister who took it in turns to swing over the river.
This provided me with an opportunity to ask their willing father to haul me out of a particularly deep gouge in the bank of a recently established tributary.
Delighted dogs dashed around all over the place. Some kept their owners reasonably close;
others crouched ready to pounce
for a play fight,
clearly beneath a serious-minded spaniel.
One exuberant creature made the water its element.
This evening we dined on the other half of Jackie’s prime beef and mushroom pie; roast potatoes and butternut squash; with firm Brussels sprouts, carrots, and broccoli, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Fronton 2017.