an auspicious day

philosopherontap logo featured image

On this most auspicious of days the sun is smiling on the empire of the Davies. The second most religious of occasions in the calendar of the Christians was somewhat let down by the quality of the Sunday Service on the beeb. The ole Archbish of Canterbury didn’t do it for me and was my stimulus to rise from the horizontal, not unlike, metaphorically speaking,  the object of the celebration on this day two thousand or so years since.

This morning we are taking advantage of the oasis of warmth in an intemperate sea at the start of April by visiting the gardens at Doddington Hall. Never been but Anne has and wishes to revisit their presumably verdant surroundings. Tis fine.

On the covid front all the graphs continue to head in the right direction. Yesterday only ten deaths were reported. Strange that we might celebrate the fact that ten people died but this is a reflection of the change in people’s sensitivities at a time of war. It feels almost like someone dying in the last few hours of the first world war before the armistice officially kicked in. We shall remember them. Perhaps.

Although there have been no direct Davies casualties in this war it has had its effect on the family. My dad has been isolating in his “assisted accommodation” and only recently allowed one visitor, my sister Sue. Her visits, behind a glass screen and in full combat gear, have not been in ideal circumstances but are better than nothing. Anne and I are waiting for our travel permit to be signed off and the rules surrounding visitations to be relaxed before we head in his direction. It involves border crossings, potentially at night. The risks are there.

Today in Lincoln everything is under control. The steak and ale pie filling was slow cooked on Friday and I will make the pea and watercress soup before we depart for Doddo. It’s all about making life easy later. 

Ciao for now.

We walked around Doddington Hall Gardens. It will be a totally different experience in summer when the plants have all grown, they have finished renovating the gardens and the extensive scaffolding has been removed from the house. 

As it was we had a good time in the blazing spring sunshine. Felt as if life was starting again after being locked down all winter. Lincoln was rubbing layers of sleep from its eyes, stretching its arms out wide and warming its face in the sun. We picnicked on the lawn in front of the church and purchased two cups of cardboard tea from a bright yellow catering unit at the entrance to the grounds.

Laid on my back on the picnic blanket, eyes closed to the full glare of the sun I was prompted to sing The Flowers That Bloom In The Spring followed, for what it’s worth by I Have A Song To SIng, O. The latter has great lyrics. Sung to the moon by a love lorn loon who flees from the mocking throng O. Look it up. It is good to be alive.

In the farm shop I bought two expensive jars of honey, and expensive marmalade and an expensive raspberry jam together with an over priced bottle of red wine. I didn’t mind. It’s part of the experience. It wasn’t really expensive for what you got 🙂

Categorised as diary

By Trefor Davies

.-- . .-.. .-.. / .... . .-.. .-.. --- / ... - .-. .- -. --. . .-. .-.-.- / .-- .... .- - / -.. --- / -.-- --- ..- / - .... .. -. -.- ..--..

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *