Saturday 12th May

Whilst looking for the Victorian botanist that had lived in Weston Park, Bath, I came across the fact that my old house was up for sale.  So here are two of the photos of the garden, drastically altered, most of my apple trees have gone but still holding its magic with the small copse of trees at the bottom.  It was here that Tom, aged about five years old, my grandson made himself a tent, only finding on getting into it a bumble bee had already made its home in a small nest. Never forget his cross and tearful face as he flew out of his tent with an angry bee behind. The garden was in a valley, with a stream running through (long gone) but we had the remains of a bridge across, apparently there was a footpath across from the back of a row of Georgian houses that went straight over to Weston Lane from Weston Park.  Originally the stream functioned for a medieval mill further down the lane and when they put a drain in an old mill leat was exposed.

Actually I think the garden has benefited from its newly acquired look, the house has been rationalised into a modern version of what you see mostly on tv shows, which I find rather boring and archaeologically wise, come back in a couple of hundred years and such houses will practically have their date written on them.  So many memories, it was up through this copse that Moss escaping the house after internment of three weeks because of operations which included castration, leapt the 8 foot ha-ha wall at the back chasing a cat, I stood there cursing him, visualising all his stitches on his legs and underneath had pulled open, luckily he had healed.  I must sort the photos of our time there, the barbecues, the language students, Mark my son and his swing.  See I am taking a leaf out of Jennie's blog and reminiscencing about the past.  

And it all started with listening to a talk on the gardens of Victorian Scarborough, the old cemetery with its tree-lined walks, and an old murder in one of the glens.  Fascinating in the end, one forgets that many a town was made up of nurseries and market gardens.  The second picture shows 'ladies' being escorted into the sea via bathing huts, apparently, and I can't think of the name for them, there was already women in the sea who would dunk your head under water for several minutes - scary.

Scarborough - look at the crowds...

 Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1261740

Yesterday dreamt that I was getting out of bed, I did it in the real world as well at the same time, apparently dragging the duvet cover after me, I tripped over it and fell against a chest of drawers cutting my head quite deeply.  Lots of blood but a very together Paul brought towels (he said he would panic later;)

Scary, but I am alright, and didn't need any assistance but I did say if I need to go to hospital then it must be Scarborough hspital, coincidence or what?..... Paul was brilliant (he wants that recorded in my blog) .....