French guests

We have just had some delightful guests to stay who came for their wedding anniversary. Specificaly to visit Casa Mia an Italian restaurant in Bristol which has a Michelin Star. Luckily I asked them if they knew how to get there and they happily produced a google map (clearly pleased with their preparation and rightly so, they had seen the restaurant on tv and decided it was the place to visit). Unfortunately google were not aware that one of the major roads that they were directing them to take has been closed for well over a year and for the forseable future. We lent them a street map of Bristol, suggested another route and off they went. Good thing, had they tried the google route they would have had to go at least another 6 miles and might still be searching for their supper.

Next day they reported that they had had a lovely time and showed us photos of the different tasting dishes that they had eaten.  It looked very interesting the final course full of dry ice and funstuff which had rounded off the evening well.  It just happened that it was the Bristol half marathon when they headed home. One of my liveries had taken hours to get out of Bristol as many roads were closed so I suggested to our guests that again they should ignore google and take another route back to London. Nothing like a bit of local knowledge.

mountain bikes, woods and co

So out for a ride with my own horse and two others we are picking our wayalong the deer trail  through the newly scattered brash from the tree harvesting that has been going on in Ashton Hill Woods, the forestry above Gatcombe. There hard at work with a couple of spades are three young men. Mountain bikers they tell me, they are not 'we only do jumps'. This is apparently not the same as down hill. 'You simply don't understand, it's about the adrenalin rush. The jumps just give us such a rush. You wouldn't understand'.  Well he was speaking to one of the people who just might. I know that I am now old (in his terms) and cranky, but age doesn't allow you to forget the rush of riding fixed fences at speed, point to pointing, recovering from near falls, as Lorna Clarke puts it 'getting off' with some mad risk that one takes in the heat of competition.  No young man, No idea.

I put it to him that many people use the woods and its not for their exclusive use. He felt that there should be; give way to bikes, that walkers, riders of a slower form be they bikes or horses, pushers of prams and dogs should all fall back into the undergrowth to feed their desire for an adrenalin rush. Hmmm. I suggested that the accident in Still Woods above Long Ashton had led to there being closed as the person injured had been too difficult to get out. To my amazement one of them admitted that it had been him. That he had had a broken arm and that his friends had called the air ambulance to help him but that when it could not reach him he had wlked out. Why on earth hadn't he done that in the first place? I am a great believer that if you do a dangerous sport then you suffer the consequences, falls and injuries, with as much dignity and little hassle to those who have to look after you as possible. Long ago my horse bolted when a poacher fired a gun nearby while I was in the woods. The horse fell, trampled me when she got up and ran off leaving me with 2 broken ribs. So what do you do? Walk home, go looking. Last thing that you want to do, as collapse with many pain  killers and feel sorry for yourself is top of the agenda. Possible on a bike but not with a potentially injured animal who may also be causing a multiple pile up. We had a call from the police at 10.30pm she was near the motorway at Gordano. Get vet, stitch up leave with friend close by as too shocked and too late to move. Home 2am. Up 6 am fetch horse, work at 8.30 washed brushed and clean.  No excuse not to be at work. After all you could call the injury self inflicted! I am not alone, many of the people that I evented with appeared to have the same ideology. One comtemporary  rode round Burghley with a collar bone wired up. Fell off, broke the other one and completed the show jumping with both strapped. Now that I think is mad as with a fall you cannot be in the reckoning. But we admired the grit.

What a lot of softies some of these bikers must be. One had a fall the other day and just left his bike in the undergrowth no-one, neither him or his friends moved it for weeks. I believe that these bikes are quite expensive. But hey. He's hurt poor chap what does the bike matter.

Mid August

8.15am. Our guests breakfasted at 6 leaving for the airport in good time for the 10 minute journey and their flight to Dublin. As they said in their very king comments in our guest book. So easy for the airport and not under the flight path. We are so lucky on that one. Beds are changed and all would be bliss if it were not for the shower having inexplicably no cold feed.

Such are the travails of an old house. Where exactly does the cold water come from? Those in the know are long dead and those left are opening bath panels and pulling up floor boards. We have two days to get sorted before our next guests. Rather more time than when on an old boat chartering in the Caribbean. David sent me off snorkelling with the guests while he attempted to repair the 'black water' (no prizes for guessing what that is!) pump. A diaphragm affair that had come adrift from its mountings and a rather crucial ingredient of what is known on a boat as the 'heads'. He spent 2 hours upside down in the bilges while we meandered about on a reef watching brilliantly coulered small fish. A magic row of cuttle fish which reminded me of 'little maids all in a row'. On our return for tea and cake at 4pm all was working. He is a wonderful man and very good at cobbling things together with what we have. Easier here as we can at least go shopping for bits and pieces rather more easily.

des ja vue

Tonight David went missing and suddenly my mobile rang. text; 'a dog is attacking mr'. Mr is myIrish thoroughbred horse. He was being chased around the field by a collie and was in quite a state. Fortunately the collie scarpered when David yelled at him. We shall have to watch out for a repeat visit but... it reminded me of a dog attack years ago when we had a small holding near Bovey Tracey. I left the house one morning to be greeted by a neigh from my horse 'Bale' (Harper's Bazaar) this had to be bad news; she only ever made a noise when there was a problem, and there was. I went into her field to find that she had a huge gash down one side, her whole shoulder joint was exposed and she had further wounds to her sides and rump. After 24 years with me it was clearly the end of the road. We had a wonderful vet and he came and put her down. Her two daughters came and supported her in her distress and after we had destroyed her they stood over her for the rest of the day and over her grave that night. She had clearly been chased past something sharp and David went off to check on the rest of the stock. One other 2 year old was in distress and would not move otherwise they were all right. The vet considered that they had been chased probably by a dog or dogs. As we had seen three boxers chasing the chickens in the same field two nights before we were pretty sure who the culprits were. We taxed our neighbours with it and they were adamant that it was not the case. Two days later one of the boxers turned up with a very recently live lamb's leg in his mouth and there was no doubt.

The evening that they attacked and killed my wonderful horse that had taken me round Badminton and Burghleigh on two occassions was a wake. She had always been very much a product of the island of her birth, Ireland. Brave, clever, idiosyncratic and slightly nuts but fanatical. At 15.2 carrying 75 kg she had been fearless across country and did fences that some felt were unjumpable. Frank Wheldon thanked me for jumping the triple bounce dog kennel as if it was a small grid and she was pictured jumping the Normandy bank 'with a stride' apparently impossible, easily if for me in a rather heart stopping fashion. But all that was over. Wonderful friends from up the valley came down with their digger and we dug a hole to bury her in. A couple came down as planned from Hampshire to stay and we got stuck into the red wine. Several bottles later the filly wasn't looking to good. I think I was in shock at the whole day. I'd had a three hour lecture on marketing to give Thank god for John Harvey Jones and the VHS machine for providing most of that one, I was in shock at the turn of events.

At some point it was decided that the filly should go to Langford vet college to be operated on. We loaded her up met the vet at the top of Holden Hill and drove to Bristol University Vet school arriving at 3am. She was in distress and had terrible stats. We then drove home the adrenalin that had kept me going to try and save her rapidly deserted me and we stopped again at Taunton for more coffee. Getting back to the farm by 7am we just started the day with lots of bacon and egg and a dullness that suited the moment. The vet college rang to say that the filly had died on the operating table her whole alimentary canal, twisted beyond aid, by being chased over the fence and falling and struggling in the ditch. To dispel the mood we decided to go for a ride on Dartmoor. Got the lorry stuck en route and took hours to get disentangled. Definitely a weekend to forget. Reading David's text brought back the nightmare . How can people lose such control over their dogs? It also reminded me how completely careless people are when looking after themselves. No consideration whatever of the consequences of their actions. It can be very tiring. RIP Bale

Rather a busy time

This afternoon we went on a trip round the harbour on the Matthew. I learned how the lock gates are operated by hydro-power which was fascinating I had had no idea. The occasion being that the Matthew currently part of the Great Bristain Trust is now going to be maintained by its own Trust. She has had a busy time down in Falmouth and up the Channel to London where she apparently appeared out of the fog dressed up as the Dawn Treader as she had for the Narnia films. (Voyage of the Dawn Treader et al) What terrific books they were to read as a child and probably for ever. Though I never like to see a film once I've read the book my vision is never the same as the casting director. Is anyone's? We were entertained by sea shanties and champagne and had a wonderful hour of sunshine unlike the group earlier in the afternoon who had had the misfortune of precipitation. Our Italian guests think that it is always this cold and yet last week it was quite hot and steamy at times. Such is our weather and I'm sure it is cold in the rest of Europe at times.

Tonight a Parish Highways and burial ground meeting. Some heated debate on various issues it is good to have an airing of views and different opinions as it keeps the whole place alive. The Bon jovi parking debacle was to the fore I have been astonished at the complete lack of communication between the Stadium and Long Ashton PC. How very short sited of all those who wish to see a new stadium not to try a bit harder to make sure they had a smooth running of the parking in Long Ashton instead of the complete grid lock that was caused. Vicar stuck for hours parents cut off from their children etc etc. Anyone who was of no fixed opinion is now clearly in the anti camp. Except probably the farmer who sat there raking in the loot for several thousand (or so it seemed) cars.

I visited the burial ground (as requested by our Chair) and was very impressed at how well it looked though there is work to be done. As was suggested it is a pity that the road down to the Church is in such a poor state of repair. Perhaps we should make it a toll road for functions!

Too late tonight but will write on our trip to the festival of eventing with our RDA group. Great fun had by all.

85 years on

My father would have been 85 years old today. He was born and died in this house and loved it dearly. When he retired he turned to the garden with complete zeal making copious notes on every rose. When it came into bud, flowered how good the crop. he sprayed at the first hint or black spot, rust or greenfly. Top Rose filled his boots and the garden was a picture. Amazing for our wedding and for the open garden day when it was featured in the Independent newspaper (when questioned as to what the picture of the famous Edney gates with house behind was of a 3 year old nephew replied 'Grandpa's cat'. . . and so it was sitting at the side of the gate; and we were summoned to help with tea and stand duty on the gate. More than 1200 people turned up we ran out of everything there was to run out of. Tea, milk etc. No farm shop then so much more drastic effort required for recovery.

His last triumph being his and my mother's 50th wedding anniversary which ran to 6 parties over 5 days; everyone having a jolly good time with different musical entertainment and a host of guests. They were in their element. We returned from work on the yacht to join in. For us quite surreal to go from an 8' x5' cabin to call your own to the space here. We started with the Welsh Guards summer party, always good for a jaunt they brought a coach as they did for his funeral and as then they carried off in style and for many hours. The last party was people from the valley and the church and a good time seemed to be had by all.

By the end of the celebrations my father was as he put it, inexplicably tired. We thought at the time that it was age (76) the hot weather and the effort he'd put into the jollity but the week after we returned to work my mother rang me in Antigua to say that he had been diagnosed with prostate cancer and I never saw him well again. He was dead in less than a year.

That is all a long time ago but he would be quite disappointed in the actions of some here now. I often think of us all as 'Shambridge' an everyday tale of country folk. We have had all sorts of shenenagins from drug heists to bean thieves. He would have been astounded at the drugs and cross about the beans. Why would anyone come into the kitchen garden allotments and steal broad beans? What a risk for a few pence worth of one of your 5 a day and 2 years running! Criminal record at best, jail at worst. Bonkers. At least last year they left an empty bottle of vodka. This year just stripped bean plants. Cameras next year its getting like midsomer murders. The mystery of the missing beans. The drug round up found stashes of drugs in woods and fields and led to a conviction (yes made the papers) of a temporary resident. Now its watch out for your washing as apparently their is a designer clothes thief in the village. Am I writing a book. You bet!

The street light at the end of Gatcombe Lane was put there in the 1930's to light the bus stop and make it safe for staff from farm and court getting the bus back from the village in the dark. North Somerset in their wisdom failed to appreciate why the light was there and have moved it across the lane where it no longer fulfills it's purpose. They are trying to pretend that its a question of cost but we all know that in reality it never occurred to them why it was there and as there were trees on the other side it was easier to locate it without cutting any branches. It would not have taken much immagination to have worked it out. Now we are told it is too costly to put right the blunder. Perhaps we should be radical and give financial penalties for this sort of mistake? Would it improve performance?

Fennel and Thyme

I have been sitting in the fennel and thyme bed in the sun, doing a bit of weeding. The perfume is amazing and quite heady so a great enjoyment and one of the reasons that one stays here. D is as usual, mending a wall but they are looking so much better that he is quite pleased with the results. The roses have been so good that they are an inspiration. The pink rose on the outside of the garden wall has survived both the ministrations of the stone masons who had to repair a very difficult piece of circular wall and the frozen winter with cement covering so it must be pretty hardy. To my surprise the inside rose which has been a stump since November has suddenly re-awoken and is sprouting.

I am taking cuttings of various herbs so that there may be some to sell at the open day on 17th July when the house tour will start at 2pm. People need to telephone 01275 393141 if they would like to join a tour (£10 including all you can drink of tea and some home made cake either made by me or Mrs Foster who is 91 and still going strong. From time to time she rings me up and asks if we would eat a cake if she makes one....a silly question really. I bought her a new Kenwood a month ago as the previous one's motor burnt out with all the use it had).

The rose Kiftsgate has excelled itself this year. After several years of attempting to get it to 'tumble' over the garden wall into the lane it now has and the perfume for anyone walking down there is terrific.



As for the dogs in these warm days who said that terriers are not water dogs!