It’s Life Jim, But Not As We Knew It.

The Stately Pile

Our Stately Pile

I can hardly believe that it’s been a year since I left the chilly shores of Dear Old Blighty behind me for the sunnier climes of the Southern United States. For the first time in a very long time I experienced a winter without any snow! I can’t tell you how good that feels; no scraping ice off the windscreen, no shovelling snow, no slipping and sliding on glassy pavements, no woolly gloves and scarves, no thermal hats or linings to ones shoes, no heavy moleskin trousers or innumerable layers of clothing, no cars being snowed in or stuck because the roads are covered in ice, no weeks and weeks of slush everywhere and salt on ones shoes, no heavy overcast skies for day after day, no biting cold wind whistling round your trossocks, Continue reading

You Can Ring My Bell

BING, BONG. I say “Bing, Bong” because we have a rather nice doorbell that doesn’t just go, “Bing,” or “Brrrrrrriiiinnnngggg …” as doorbells seem to do these days; and neither does it go, “Bong” like a Westminster chime might do. No, it has a rich, mellifluous, “Bing, Bong,” a definite announcement reminiscent of a past era when the butler would intone with a dead pan, “Mr Pish Posh to see you, sir.”

“Ah, very good, Smithers,” you’d say, “Show him into the Library, if you would, and inform him that I’ll be there presently.”

“Very good, sir.”

It’s the kind of chime that says, “There’s someone at the door wishing to see you. However, there’s no need to rush as I’m sure they can wait a few moments, but, if you choose not to answer the door then I shouldn’t worry about it since they’ll either ring the doorbell again or they’ll go away.” Continue reading