“Fall colors are funny. They’re so bright and intense and beautiful. It’s like nature is trying to fill you up with color, to saturate you so you can stockpile it before winter turns everything muted and dreary.”
It was about time for another meet-up with the girls and so, with Autumn colours calling, the highly organised Helen Reeley with her ageing, apricot poodlette Obi, Lazy Trollop and myself set off for a wander around Winkworth Arboretum.
The day was not obviously conducive for warmth and well being, the first of the winter cold having set in with a penetrating grey mizzle but after a fortifying coffee (or in Helen's case a huge mug of chocolate with cream and marshmallows plus a slab of cake!) we set out into the gloom.
And this was time for first mishap of the day. I've been a National Trust member for years and remained so despite having rarely used my card, so sod's law dictated that I would not have it with me on the one day we visit an NT property. As Lazy Trollop had two cards (one for Mr. B her husband) I demanded that she give me that so I didn't have to pay to get in. I duly flashed this card at the bloke on the entrance which he perused with an ever darkening expression of suspicion. "Hmmm... this card says Mr. B!!" he growled. At this point obviously I should have said "It's a fair cop guv" or "That'll be the sex change op" but instead I grinned disarmingly and said "Yes, that's me!". How totally unimpressed can someone be? "Look, I do have a card but I don't have it with me - I've been a member for years" I said unabashed holding back my "and I've left money to the National Trust in my will" trump for the moment. He drummed his fingers on the desk and said sternly "What's your name and address?" I gave it, fully expecting a police van to screech up and throw me in the back whilst everyone in the queue pointed and screamed "She's the perp!". Fortunately he just phoned the membership office who confirmed I was indeed a member. The look on his face told me how disappointing he found this news - like someone had really pissed on his chips! There was something of a reluctance to hand back Lazy Trollop's husband's card but I did finally wrestle it off him accompanied by a little lecture about my wickedness.
The incident was soon forgotten and even the slight rain couldn't spoil the magnificent vibrance of the colours. It was mainly acers that provided the display, most other trees were still in full leaf but only gradually turning a soggy brown.
The second mishap were my home-made cheese scones. They would have been fine if they had risen more, been warm straight from the oven and smothered in melting butter. As it was they were really only good for duck food. Next time I will take a flask of warming whisky as my contribution! Our luck was in though, Lazy Trollop had prepared a goody bag of cookies and granola bars for us and what with that and my pressie of a scented candle from Helen I did pretty well out of the day.
|Spot the film reference|
I'm afraid that after my moans about 'nobody knowing the value of silence' on another blog, we shattered the peace and quiet of Winkworth with our squawking laughter and magpie chatter luckily there weren't too many other people around to disturb.
A lovely place Winkworth is well worth an autumnal visit and is also noted for its Spring bluebell walks and bluebells - definitely a place to return to next year assuming I'm not blacklisted by the man on the gate!
|Obi, Helen and Lazy Trollop|