A diverse offering twixt the interesting, the unusual, and the amusing.
Sunday, 23 May 2010
The Sunday Story. Hermitage?
I was reminded of this story, having read a posting by Tom Stephenson.
I had a second-cousin (Actually, I think our relationship was much more distant than that, but...) who was a graphic designer for the Church of England (a black sheep, obviously). In roughly 1969/1970 he bought a very beautiful, but run-down, house, just off the Hog's Back between Farnham and Guildford, in England's leafy county of Surrey.
Having restored the house to a livable standard, he moved in, complete with wife and two small children.
Spring approached, and Mrs second-cousin decided that the impenetrable garden needed some serious work, so she engaged a local firm of slashers and burners. After several days work a path was opened to the bottom of the extensive garden where they found a small rickety shed (not at all like the one above). They had not previously known that the shed existed.
Mrs second-cousin saw at once that a well trodden path went from the shed to a hole in the overgrown hedge; someone had definitely been going in and out.
She pushed open the door to find an elderly tramp installed, complete with makeshift bed, chair, table, and camping stove. I imagine some short conversation took place, then she left him in peace.
The tramp, let's call him Jim, had been living in the abandoned shed for years, and my second-cousins had no heart to evict him. He soon became 'Uncle Jim', and even volunteered to do odd jobs for them in the garden.
I only visited this distant cousin once, and by this time 'Uncle Jim' was actually living in the house with the family. He was smartly dressed, articulate, and, had become a 'normal' member of society.
Many would have turfed him out of the shed at once, but these kind people had slowly re-integrated him into a more comfortable way of life. And they'd left the shed exactly as it had been found; just in case....
We went with friends to the Scallop festival in Whitianga; a charming
seaside town in the Coromandal District.
Had a great time...5000 people, lots of wine...
3 years ago
The difference between an optimist and a pessimist, is that the optimist enjoys himself whilst waiting for the inevitable! I AM that optimist!
This is a daily, optimistic, 'photos and comments' blog. I make no judgements (only occasionally), just notes. If you wish to comment in any way at all, please feel free. Everything and everyone is very welcome.
I was born just south of London, but for the past 44 years I've lived in S W France. I am a painter by profession, and writer by desire. Lady Magnon and I live in an ancient cottage, in a tiny village, in perfectly tranquil countryside. We have a vegetable garden called 'Haddock's' (this may crop up from time to time), a Border Collie cross called Bok, a cat called Freddie, plenty of fruit trees, and a view that takes the breath away. I try to treat our planet with respect, and encourage others to do likewise (without preaching).
Contentment is a glass of red, a plate of charcuterie, and a slice of good country bread. Perfect!