Rudders at Home

I made Paul get the suitcases out last night. Four years ago, I would have had them packed and waiting at the door by now! My, how things change.

Instead, I’ve had to bully Paul into getting them out. And he wasn’t thrilled about it either.

So, the suitcases are down, and now all we’ve got to do is tackle the packing. 🙂

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We took a country drive today and ended up at Chartwell, which isn’t too far from us. Chartwell was Winston Churchill’s family home. He bought it in 1922 and it now is being taken care of by the National Trust. It’s just down the road from us and we’ve been meaning to get there to have a look since we got the car last year.

There are two main bits to see when you go – the house and the garden. The gardens were definitely the highlight. The house was ok, but not fabulous. Perhaps it was because it was really busy that I was put off a bit. Entry is by timed ticket, which means you have a fifteen minute window to get into the house. Then you can stay in as long as you want – and boy were people sticking around. Getting in wasn’t the problem, it was moving around once you were in. People just were not moving along. Slow shuffle was definitely the speed of the day. There wasn’t much in the way of “house” to see inside, there were a couple dressed rooms, but then the rest was set up as a sort of museum to Churchill. I might have been more appreciative of it had there not been so many people. I thought the gardens were much better.

The amount of space and land was what struck you as you drove in to the place. That was what I liked about Knole Park as well. But not only did Chartwell have space, it was also beautifully landscaped, with other smaller garden areas throughout. My favorite bit was Lady Churchill’s Rose Garden. Not to mention the swimming pool, which is one of the first things you see as you walk into the property.

As big as the space was, it did seem rather homely. It wasn’t nearly as ostentatious as you would think. In fact, the interior was quite humble, and one of the gardens actually had – gasp! – vegetables in it! That was nice to see, considering I haven’t seen a proper growing garden in long long time.

I enjoyed it. If only there weren’t so many people!

Some more pictures from the gardens:

There are further pictures in the gallery.

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upon meeting Paul for the third time.

“My what a nice boy he is to hold our handbags while we get our picture taken!”

Poor fellow, he didn’t realize we’d then turn the camera on him!

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They don’t celebrate that here, the fourth of July.  I wouldn’t know why… 😉

All kidding about the UK and independence aside, I’m missing home terribly at the moment. With the warm weather starting to wane and London feeling a bit oppressive, I’m yearning for home and country again. Mainly it’s because I know what I’m missing back home that I won’t get here. I miss the hot days, swimming pools, back roads, and cookouts on top of the hill. Fireworks, county fairs, scratchy lawn chairs and laying out in the back yard. However, I must say that what I’m missing most of all, is a family tradition that I’m not sure we’re all familiar with, and my summers here are never complete without it.

My brother and sisters will know exactly what I’m talking about. For you, dear reader, I will need to explain further. I refer, of course, to the annual trimming of the hedge. It’s not a very exciting tradition, but it’s one that needs to be done.  Every year, around the fourth of July, my father trims the hedge in our yard. It’s no ordinary hedge; of course, it’s a fairly awkward hedge, situated on a bank at the side of the road.  See the suspect hedge below:

And that’s not the whole hedge! There is a bit more to it further on to the left. The picture doesn’t even do it justice. The hedge itself sits on a fairly steep-ish bank which doesn’t aid in the trimming process, and only hinders and makes things more difficult, or so I’m led to believe…

And my father doesn’t trim it on just any day of the year. Oh no, he trims this hedge on what is always the hottest day of the year. Guaranteed. You want a perfect day to go swimming? You just talk my father into trimming that hedge. Then forget about swimming, he’ll get you involved in the project.

Nope, it’s not just a solo activity. Dad likes to get the whole family involved if he can.  If it isn’t starting at the crack of dawn so the teenager in the house is awake by eight, then it involves someone fetching him a glass of water – or at least getting out of his way while he gets on himself!  I may make it sound entertaining, but if you’re smart, you’ll stay safely out of the way. I hear that this year he’s already done it, so we can be assured that the summer won’t be getting any hotter.

But, silly me, I miss weird things about home, and this has to be one of them. We may lament about the fact that dad insists on doing this task at the most inconvenient time of the summer, but it wouldn’t be summer without it.

I just have one thing to say: There’s only one hottest day of the year – why waste it? Sod the hedge, surely he’d rather be doing this:

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Paul and I have been out and about this lovely Sunday afternoon. The weather here has broken a bit – meaning we’ve seen some sun today. So, unable to bear being cooped up in the flat when the promise of sunshine is around, I made Paul take me for a drive today. We ended up at the National Trust property, Knole. In addition to a nice property, there is a deer park at Knole, and it seems that it would be a nice place to have a picnic. We had a nice wander around the park, and that’s where I took a picture of this pretty animal.

Initially, Paul thought these were roe deer, but the National Trust says that there are fallow and sika deer found in the deer park. Either way, it was pretty nice to see them there, and further pictures from the day can be found here in the gallery.

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