The Oldest has a penchant for hunting horns. None of us hunt, or even ride for that matter, but the horns have come in handy for one very specific reason: when the kids are outside mucking around, and the noise of the river is drowning out all means of communication, we blow on one of the horns, which can be heard all over the valley. Within minutes, the kids come swarming in from the fields. It’s amazing how well this works, and that they respond at all, being, er, at a certain age of independence. Continue reading →
An assortment of Devon autumnal colour – greatly enhanced by our Japanese maple.
I grew up in Vermont. I am used to cold snowy winters, sticky hot summers, mosquitoes through three seasons, and mud for the rest of the time. I am used to laconic speakers, world-wary (yes, wary) farmers, free-thinkers and honest politicians. I am used to four-wheel drives, and steering out of a skid in the snow. I am used to hills, lakes, and rushing mountain streams. I am used to being independent, surrounded by beauty, and always a little bit chilly. But one thing I will never get used to, Continue reading →