28th August 2021

The week after returning from Iceland was, as expected, a whirlwind of domestic chaos. The house and garden both seemed to have thrown a tantrum in our absence, demanding immediate attention. True to form, the ever-unreliable British weather did its best to dampen spirits, literally, but Sue soldiered on and mostly conquered the mountainous laundry pile. However, the greenhouse and veg patches kindly rewarded our neglect with a decent haul, so at least the courgettes weren’t sulking.

Sue somehow squeezed in a U3A ramble to Hanging Houghton, proving once again that she’s part rambler, part mountain goat. She also took Ellis on a morning of magnet fishing in the River Welland and the Grand Union Canal, essentially treasure hunting for people who enjoy rusty surprises. The outing was topped off with a glamorous lunch at McDonald’s, his final indulgence before joining big brother Lucas at Brook Weston Academy. A rite of passage, complete with fries.

Saturday morning found me up to my elbows in onions, prepping them for winter storage, when Jamie turned up at Willow Bank with that familiar glint in his eye, the one that usually precedes an impulsive adventure. Sure enough, he suggested a road trip at the end of September. The last one, to Fuengirola on the Costa del Sol back in 2018, was epic, so I didn’t need much convincing.

This time, we settled on one of my favourite destinations, the Azores. A slice of Portuguese paradise, lush, volcanic, and as laid-back as they come. I’ve got no doubt he’ll love it as much as Sue and I have in the past. Flights were promptly booked, no faffing about.

Later that day, en route to see Ruth in Bottesford, Jamie gave me a lift into Harborough town centre. I was meeting up with Jim H and Jim C to catch the bus to Kibworth for a beer festival at the Coach and Horses. Upon arrival, we were soon joined by Paul, and the afternoon unfolded in that most British of fashions: sitting in a pub yard, sampling ales, and setting the world to rights.

It was thoroughly enjoyable, and yet oddly surreal. Perhaps it’s the lingering effects of lockdown life, or maybe we’ve just forgotten how to be properly sociable without checking a lateral flow test first. Either way, sipping pints in the sunshine with old mates felt both utterly normal and faintly bizarre.

Early September brings with it that unmistakable hint of autumn in the air, and, in our family calendar, a flurry of celebrations. It’s the time when Charlotte and Suraj not only mark their birthdays but also their wedding anniversary, in a triple whammy of festivity.

This year, they invited the family over for Sunday lunch in Rothwell. Apart from Jamie, who was still in Bottesford with Ruth and their new dog Nala, the rest of us dutifully turned up, well-fed and reasonably on time.

Sue managed to squeeze in a trip to the Saddington car boot sale beforehand, and Sarah’s crew followed suit with a boot sale of their own en route. They even threw in a steam train ride on the Northampton & Lamport Line for good measure. It was Alice’s very first train journey, historic, adorable, and thankfully free of delays or signal failures.

Lunch was nothing short of magnificent, succulent lamb accompanied by seven beautifully cooked vegetables, each one tastier than the last. It was a real pleasure to have most of the family gathered around the dining table again, chatting away contentedly while the dogs loitered hopefully beneath, ever-vigilant for the odd dropped morsel. It felt properly right, as it should be.

Utterly replete and beginning to drift into the post-lunch stupor so familiar to Sundays, I nevertheless rallied myself and offered to help Charlotte reinforce the fence that separates their fire pit from the neighbouring cow field. The local cattle, it seems, have grown a little too fond of leaning over for a nibble of the patio plants, which has left the fence with a worrying tilt. Left unchecked, the next family gathering might well feature uninvited bovine guests roasting marshmallows.

With Suraj’s assistance and a couple of strategically angled wooden posts, we braced the fence and brought it back from the brink. A small victory for human ingenuity, and potted plants everywhere.

The following week was dominated by a blanket of thick cloud, a cold that crept into your bones, and a dithering drizzle that couldn’t quite decide whether it wanted to be rain or just a mild inconvenience. It was the sort of weather that makes you question your choice of wardrobe. Gloomy, grey, and thoroughly disheartening.

Still, life trundles on, indifferent to meteorological moods. None more so than for young Ellis, who was gearing up for the next big chapter, his first day at BIG school. As part of the preparations, he made the traditional pilgrimage to the barber, emerging freshly shorn and very nearly looking grown-up.

As a final pre-school treat, Sue whisked him and Lucas off to play crazy golf in Blaby, where the putting was erratic, the competition fierce, and the laughter plentiful. This was followed by yet another slap-up feast at McDonald’s.

Despite the growing autumnal chill, Sarah took Alice on her very first blackberry-picking adventure. Miraculously, Alice managed to dodge the worst of the thorns, no mean feat for a first-timer, and developed an immediate fondness for the juicy little berries. It turns out that blackberry-stained fingers and sticky smiles are cool.

That same day, Charlotte and Suraj accompanied Ellis on his first day at his new school, an emotional milestone, no doubt, before heading off to celebrate their wedding anniversary in Rutland. First stop was Oakham Castle to admire the famously impressive collection of horseshoes (a truly British combination of historical tradition and equine eccentricity), followed by a leisurely stroll around Barnsdale Gardens. They rounded off their celebratory outing with lunch in the charming town of Uppingham. A day of milestones, memories, and very well-deserved cake, I imagine.

Thursday evenings have now firmly established themselves as the designated slot for our small band of ex-rugger chums to gather, usually in someone’s garden, for refreshments, nibbles, and amiable ramblings about everything and nothing. This week it was my turn to host, and with the temperature dropping like a stone and the ever-present threat of rain looming, I sensibly relocated the festivities to the garage rather than have us all huddling damply under the patio awning.

As a bit of entertainment, and a dose of nostalgic indulgence, I put on three short videos from past escapades: our 2006 walk along the Cleveland Way, the 2008 trip to Llangynog in Mid Wales to conquer snowy peaks, and our 2016 jaunt to Reykjavik, where the drinks were eye-wateringly expensive but the company top-notch. The consensus? It’s the people, not the price of beer, that make the memories. This evening was no exception.

The dreariness persisted until Saturday, when Sue and I headed up to Bottesford. Jamie was treating Sue to a spot of afternoon tea at Belvoir Castle, very civilised. On the way, we took a quick detour to Syston to locate the elusive little office where Jamie and I are to have our PCR tests ahead of our Azores trip. After a brief game of ‘Spot the Testing Site’ (won by me, thankfully), we continued to Ruth’s.

Meanwhile, the Rothwells were also out and about, making an early start for Cambridge. Part university reconnaissance (well, one must always dream big), part sightseeing expedition, and no doubt a healthy mix of both.

When we arrived, Ruth’s house was a hive of activity, with a handyman busily attending to various tasks as part of the preparations to put the place on the market. Deciding it made sense to travel to the castle in one car, we all piled, dogs included, into Ruth’s Mercedes and set off.

The two afternoon tea aficionados were dropped at the rather grand entrance to Belvoir Castle, ready to indulge in towers of dainty treats and pots of posh tea. Meanwhile, Ruth, the dogs, and I carried on to a lay-by about a mile away, a well-known spot for walkers heading up onto the high, wooded escarpment that the castle so impressively crowns.

As Sue and Jamie tucked into finger sandwiches and fancies, we enjoyed a splendid ramble with the dogs, taking in magnificent views across the plain below. It’s immediately obvious why the castle was built where it is; any invading army would have had a very long and very visible approach.

About an hour and a half in, Jamie rang for a lift. We arranged to meet at the Engine Yard Retail Village, nestled just beneath the castle. When we arrived, we found them happily browsing the boutique shops, looking dangerously interested in their wares. Fortunately, nothing too extravagant caught Sue’s eye, though we did have a narrow escape near a display of handmade ceramics.

Back in Bottesford, the handyman was just packing up as we began loading both Jamie’s and my car with sacks of garden rubbish. With Bottesford’s tip now closed (clearly a blow to local garden waste enthusiasts), we decided to transport the lot back to Harborough for recycling, proof, if ever it were needed, that no good deed goes unpunished.

Next on the list: hitching Ruth’s caravan to her Mercedes. The plan is to store it at Willow Bank while she finds a buyer. It’ll sit on our driveway for the foreseeable, hopefully not gathering moss or drawing too much attention from the neighbours. A couple of hours later, we were safely back in Harborough. After a quick run to the recycling centre, Jamie and Ruth continued to Desborough, their car now groaning under the weight of homegrown fruit and veg from the garden, like a mobile farm shop with sat nav.

Then came Sunday, 5th September, and with it, a complete weather U-turn. The dreary grey skies of recent weeks vanished overnight, replaced by unrelenting sunshine and an eye-popping 30°C. Tooooooo hot. At the crack of dawn, Sue was off to Saddington for yet another car boot sale (either she’s after bargains or planning to open a shop), while I slathered on sunscreen and headed to the veg patch. Within minutes, I was sweating profusely, despite the best efforts of my summer uniform: shorts, T-shirt, and sandals, digging up potatoes, picking carrots and tomatoes, and wondering if early retirement from gardening might be an option.

Jamie and Ruth, also early risers, had been go-karting north of Leicester (as you do on a sweltering Sunday morning) before arriving at Willow Bank. Their mission: caravan cleaning. The outside got a proper jet wash, the inside a deep hoovering, and then they played estate agent by taking a full set of photos for the forthcoming sale. If it doesn’t sell now, it won’t be for lack of elbow grease!

Sue had a particularly hectic day on the 9th. Thankfully, the sweltering heat of the past few days had finally made a dignified exit, replaced by far more agreeable temperatures, just in time for her morning U3A nature group walk around Stanford Reservoir. Several previous rambles had been scuppered by the oppressive heat and the delicate sensibilities of its members (understandably, no one wants to spot butterflies while melting). She returned mid-afternoon, full of tales of Golden Orioles, Spotted Crakes, and flocks of dragonflies doing aerial stunts over the water. A good time was clearly had by all, especially the dragonflies.

Back at Willow Bank, I was pleased to be reacquainted with our elusive resident cock pheasant, who had reappeared after what must have been a summer sabbatical. Possibly Ibiza. Or maybe just the far hedgerow.

Elsewhere, the week was a bit of a rough one on the health front. Sarah and Alice both had their jabs. Sarah received her second Pfizer dose, while little Alice was in for her MMR immunisation. Both were feeling rather sorry for themselves afterwards, which isn’t surprising considering the circumstances. Meanwhile, poor Ellis was sent home with another bout of tonsillitis; he seems to collect them the way some kids collect trading cards.

That evening, I gave Sue and Bridget a lift to the village hall in Little Bowden for a U3A chilli supper get-together. Later, I joined the ‘Saga’ crowd in Sean’s garden, where we sheltered from a light drizzle under an umbrella that could barely contain a small gust of wind, let alone a downpour. We spent a riveting couple of hours discussing the finer points of rugby and the recent changes to National Insurance contributions (yes, truly electrifying stuff). Bridget’s husband Jim kindly returned the ladies home around 9 pm, and when I got back just before midnight, I was surprised to find Sue still awake in the dining room, engrossed in a jigsaw puzzle of bird identification. Who knew ornithology could be such a thrilling midnight pastime?

Unsurprisingly, with schools back in full swing and restrictions largely forgotten, the infection rate in Harborough has shot up to alarming levels. During my morning cycle ride, I popped into the rugby club to catch up on local matters and was informed by ‘Bugsy,’ the bar steward, that since last Saturday’s season opener (which had drawn a healthy crowd of rugby-deprived fans to the bar), five members had already tested positive. Over in Bottesford, Ruth reported that Joey had tested positive for COVID-19 and would be isolating. Ruth’s lateral flow test came back negative, but she was awaiting PCR results. If she tested positive, she wouldn’t have to isolate as a double-vaccinated person, though she was still taking precautions (like not hugging the entire village, for instance).

On the evening of the 10th, Sue and I attended our first film screening at the local cinema club in over 18 months. We were lured by the hope of ‘normalcy’ and reassured by an email promising that full Covid-19 precautions were in place and that a new air-conditioning system had been installed (hallelujah!). We arrived to watch Downton Abbey, which, to be honest, isn’t exactly my genre of choice, and after two hours of what I can only describe as pap and drivel, I can confirm it still isn’t. However, the real torture came from the lack of ventilation and the absence of social distancing, despite the first five rows being inexplicably cordoned off. The shiny new air-conditioning units were visible on the walls, but, of course, they weren’t switched on. Understandably, a volunteer-run club might have a hiccup or two, but sitting and sweating in a sealed room with around 100 other souls? That’s unforgivable in these times. Rest assured, I shall be passing my thoughts on to the committee, preferably in writing, in case they’re too ill to listen in person.

On Saturday, I began re-painting the telephone box next to the pool, a task that, as always, turned into a bit more of a project than expected. Meanwhile, on the very day that Cristiano Ronaldo scored two goals on his Manchester United debut, Jamie was off to see Grealish at the Leicester City v Manchester City game; unfortunately, Leicester lost 1-0, but at least the atmosphere was electric.

Ellis has bounced back from his tonsillitis well enough to try his hand at paddle-boarding with Charlotte, while Alice was also back to her usual cheerful self, joining her mum and dad for a pub visit after Sarah had treated herself to a refreshing paddle on the canal. A fine mix of activity and relaxation!

Later that week, Sue went on another ramble, a much-needed escape into nature, before Sarah and Alice arrived with Sarah’s friend Jolene and her mother. They decided to meet up at Willow Bank before heading into Harborough for a bit of retail therapy. Luckily, it was a lovely day, and after some successful shopping, they chose to have lunch in a charming café tucked away in one of the old ‘Yards.’ Afterwards, they made their way back to Willow Bank for drinks and a relaxed chat on the patio, a perfect way to unwind.

On Friday (17th), I drove to Rothwell to help Charlotte with one of her clients’ gardens. Several very thorny bushes and an unruly hedge needed taming with a chainsaw and trimmers. The old gentleman who owned the property was an ex-rugby player and was eager to chat about his playing days. He’d turned out for Spalding and reminisced about matches against both Harborough and Stoneygate. Given the age gap, I doubt we ever shared a pitch, but it was fun to hear his stories. Despite being spiked by the thorns a few too many times, it was a joy to work with Charlotte again, something we hadn’t done for nearly two years due to Covid-19.

On my way home, I stopped to see Roger Woolnough. He’d managed to get his TV fixed, but was limited to watching only free-to-air channels. Though he was paying for broadband, he had no idea how to connect any of his equipment. I stayed for lunch, hooked up his laptop to his TV, logged him into the main ‘catch-up’ channels, and even set up a YouTube account for him. That should keep him occupied for a while, at least!

Over the next three weeks, Sue’s sister Philippa and her husband are driving around Iceland, circumnavigating the island by car. They’re regularly posting photos on Facebook and writing a blog about their adventures, which you can check out on the Iceland Blog. It looks like they’re having a great time!

I had grand plans to finish repainting the telephone box on Sunday, but, as usual, the British weather had other ideas. Despite an early start to try and outwit the forecast rain, with just one and a half sides left to do, the heavens opened! Of course, around the same time, Sarah rang to announce that she and Lee were coming to take us out for lunch. After a couple of frantic phone calls, we managed to find a table at the Shoulder of Mutton in Great Bowden that would take four adults, a toddler, and a dog. (It’s always the dog that’s the problem, isn’t it?)

As we were leaving, Jamie rang to say he was off to show the caravan to a prospective buyer. We later learned that after the viewing, he had a sudden change of heart and decided to scrap the whole thing instead. Always one for bold decisions!

Our impromptu Sunday lunch turned out to be a success, with an excellent spread that definitely earned a return visit. We then headed back to Willow Bank for ice creams (because why not?) and a gentle stroll to Welland Park so Alice could enjoy the playground. The Fair had arrived in the park, attracting families and teenagers with their screams of joy (or terror, depending on the ride), but unfortunately, little Alice was still too small for even the gentlest ride. She’ll have to wait until next year, when I’m sure she’ll be ready for the rollercoaster.

Monday brought a much warmer day, though autumn was already flexing its muscles, with the leaves beginning to turn and the grapes fat and juicy. First on the to-do list was finishing the painting of the telephone box (finally!). Then it was time to pick the first batch of red grapes, ready for fermenting. Here’s hoping they turn into something worth toasting, assuming I don’t drink it all in the meantime!

On the 21st, I rolled up my sleeves and got to work on this year’s vintage, starting with the rather laborious task of picking grapes off their bunches. It’s a slow and sticky job, so I interspersed the monotony with Radio 5’s finest offerings and the occasional trip into the garage to assist Mike with rewiring the horn on his Austin Healey. (If you ever fancy a crash course in patience, try working on an old car’s wiring for seven hours!) The job was frustrating, but ultimately successful, and just as well, the grapes, despite our rather disappointing summer, have defied the odds with surprisingly high sugar content. I’m optimistic that this first 25l batch of Must will turn into a fine red wine, though I may end up sampling more than my fair share before it’s ready!

Meanwhile, the Rothwells have sold their house again, so fingers crossed this time everything goes smoothly. Both Ruth’s and Jamie’s houses are on the market as well and had a good number of viewings over the weekend. With any luck, they’ll both get some decent offers soon. On top of all that excitement, Sarah and Lee have decided to have Alice christened, and they’ve already started making preparations for a ceremony at the local church on the 24th of October. Busy times ahead!