I have been trying to ring my mother for the last few months but she doesn’t answer the phone. I know she’s okay because my sister keeps me informed but it’s not the same as talking to her.
Today, after failure number 1,456,987, Mirinda suggested I write her a letter and include photos. So that is what I’m going to do. It will mean going to Smiths but I think I’ll manage it for a stamp.
Apart from a failed attempt at communication, my day was pretty normal. Washing, tidying, cooking etc.
I did have to start using a bigger water reservoir for the tomatoes. Given we’re going away and following experiments at water usage over the last week, it was quickly obvious that I’d need one of the big black bins full.
I’m now hoping that 80 litres is going to be enough. It should be. It equates to around 7 litres a day and I’m sure it doesn’t use that much.
Apart from that excitement, the highlight of the day was going to Farnham Heath for our walk. And the weather was perfect for it. not too hot, a bit of a breeze, scattered clouds. Ideal.
While there’s quite a bit of the walk under the shade of trees, there’s also a lot of wide open spots where the sun can threaten to boil your brains. And the girls get very thirsty. So on a day like today, it is a perfect walking spot.
And a brief update on yesterday’s post about the stone marker in Farnham Park.
On Twitter, Luke suggested it may be some sort of boundary marker because of the line down the middle. He could be right because there was mention of a fence going up at a reasonable distance from the castle walls in order to keep the townspeople from disturbing the ecclesiasticals at their play.
The Bishop’s Palace was still being used to house some bishop or other and, I assume, his retinue of servants. The last thing they wanted was a bunch of townsfolk chatting and farting and generally being the great unwashed.
These days, of course, we can walk right up to the castle wall and look through the key hole of the blue door. But then, the bishop has long gone and the palace is now used for conferences and things of that ilk. And once a year, the great unwashed eat venison in the Great Hall.
I should also add that my investigations are not over. As soon as I can access the Herald archive, I shall attempt to locate the story behind the stone. I’m sure it’ll be there. Somewhere.
In the meanwhilst, here’s another photo of Farnham Heath.