The House Husband

with occasional entries by The Dean

How do sheep climb trees?

When we lived in Haslemere, we often wondered what was behind the great walls at Ramster. One day I walked along the Sussex border path and ended up at the Mullberry pub which is almost opposite the big gate to Ramster. It is in a place called Rams Nest. I have no idea why anywhere would be called Rams Nest. Anyway, today we went to Ramster and found out what it’s like. To quote Mirinda “It is the best garden I’ve ever visited.

It’s famous for it’s rhododendrons and azaleas, with very good reason. They are magnificent.

Ramster azaleas

The place is enormous. It has paths and steps going every which way. Each time you crest a hill or turn a corner, it’s like you’ve travelled into another garden. Every step is an adventure. Actually, same steps are quite steep. Like these ones.

Mirinda waits patiently for me at the bottom of the steep steps

There’s the usual collection of awful gunneras which, thankfully, were not very big this time of year. Though seeing them so early doesn’t actually thrill me. They are pretty ugly full grown but they look like a bunch of evil triffids waiting to reach maturity before destroying mankind with poison spitting madness, when they’re little. Needless to say, there are no photographs of gunneras.

There were lots of lovely trees. This one had a sort of natural seat in it. Which I sat in. And managed a wet bum.

Gaz sits in a tree and gets a wet bum

We spent a lovely couple of hours wandering around. The day was gorgeous – not too hot but nice and blue and sunny. Mirinda had spent the morning studying so it was a lovely break. It was also a lovely way to walk off lunch before stopping for a tea/coffee at the Ramster Tea Room.

One final shot of Ramster. This is a reflection in the pond. The image is actually upside down but I think it looks better that way.

Reflection in a pool - Looking Glass World

After our prolonged and thoroughly enjoyable visit, we took the dogs to Hankley for a lovely late walk through the heather. It was a lovely time (now we have daylight saving and the sun is still up) to walk.

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Audrey sent me a photo of Leo in his life jacket. He looks a little unsure, if you ask me! Cute, but unsure.

Leo, ready to join the merchant navy

I think he has a while before he’ll be captain.

posted by admin in Gary's Posts and have Comments (2)

Micro-climate

When we lived in Haslemere, we became aware that, because of the surrounding countryside (mostly woods and hills), we were locked in our own little world of weather. Of a morning, it was imperative that I note the London weather before deciding what to wear because the weather in Woking was always different. I should add that Woking is only about 24 miles from Haslemere. All of this was brought back to me today when I once more visited Haslemere.

As I left Farnham, the day was a mix of grey and sleet – a truly grim day. As we (me and the three other passengers on the number 19 bus) trundled through Frensham, white began to appear where it remained on the countryside. This, in itself was not unusual. As we crossed the A3 at Hindhead, the snow started and the white either side of the road was thickening. By the time I left the bus at Shottermill, snow laid all about, thick and even. It was like I’d travelled to another country.

The reason I’d popped over to Haslemere today was to have lunch with Dawn (my second Cansfield this week). I haven’t seen her for ages while I’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time with her husband recently. My first task, however, was to take the hard drive out of their old PC. And this meant braving the vicious Polly.

Polly is a Westie, just like Basil, but unlike Basil, she hates everyone. She barks and bites and snaps and…well, she’s generally pretty antisocial. That is until she calms down, then she’s a lovely little dog. So I had to wait outside while Dawn put Polly behind bars. Basil, of course, came running up to say hello, all shaking with pleasure. Secretly, I think he was looking for Mirinda, who he adores, but he always hides his disappointment quite well. Polly remained behind bars while I went upstairs to de-brain the PC. Having had a sticky at their new kitchen, which is LOVELY! The cooker had me very jealous.

Apart from getting covered in the inevitable dust, the hard drive was a doddle and I soon had it cradled in my hand, telling Dawn to put it in a box somewhere and forget about it. I also told her the computer horror story of the man who’s information was retrieved from a PC he’d taken to the dump but which had ended up in Africa.

I foolishly offered to fix her rear wiper but my enthusiasm was a bit hardier than my automotive repair skills and it beat me. Sad and defeated by a silly little bit of plastic, we then went to the Mill for lunch.

I love the Mill. It’s a wonderful, very English pub. And they had Alton fff as a guest ale. Excellent choice. We enjoyed some of this, me more than Dawn…who was driving. Lunch was lovely though I think I hogged the conversation a bit, reminiscing over theatre days…which always makes me miss it…for a little while.

I then took the bus back home. Again, the snow stopped as we crossed the gridlocked (as always) A3. I was greeted over-enthusiastically by the poodles who, no doubt, wanted to know why I’d been to visit Basil and not taken them.

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