I arrived home to my mother's late to cups of hot coffee and some rather wonderful game pie (wrong season I know, thank god for freezers). Mother was in bed of course but Mrs M up and about to see me settled in.
I woke up early so that I could go down and have breakfast with my mother. She looked about as pleased as she ever did when I came home which is not very. I'm never quite sure if she would rather have not had children at all or if she sees me as part of the whole aberration of being married to my father. We asked each other painful questions about how we were and then she sat looking at me as if quite, quite puzzled as to why I was there. Almost as if I were some acquaintance she once knew but couldn't remember from where. I sighed and finished my breakfast in silence. As much as going home soothes me I quite realise that it is the silence, the old dogs, Mrs M, the food, the country and the fresh air that does so. Mother is about as soothing as a snore.
I grabbed Hatty and Pidge, our house dogs, as fat as ever, found my old barbour and wellies and strode out with a home made pork pie and flask of coffee warming my pocket. The weather was wet but I tugged up my hood and strode on with determination. A little rain never hurt a true English girl.
I stopped, as always, in with the grounds staff and said hello and listened to any complaints. There weren't very many as usual, Mother, whatever else I may say about her, is a very efficient and good employer. I often wonder what her life would have been like if she had been born when I was and had the opportunities of my generation... university, jobs, no expectation to marry, excitement, fulfillment...
There was much talk from the gardeners, huntsmen and groundskeepers about the new squire. The old squire, as he was known in these parts (and rather feudal parts they seem sometimes), had recently passed and the heir, whom no one knew much about, had popped up and taken over The Hall. I pictured, as I always do when someone mentions "the squire" a slightly overweight man in tweeds. I asked about the staff at The Hall and was told that all were being kept on if they wanted to stay although some were retiring.
I listened to their gossip and chatter with only one ear before heading off again. The dogs and I walked down to the river and I ate my pork pie and drank my coffee under the vague protection of a weeping willow whilst fatty Hatty and Pidge looked at me like they had been starved for a month until I started to share the pie with them too.
The rest of my day was as lazy and slow. I had a long bath, I read English newspapers, I phoned friends and Alpha and we spoke for a long while as he was getting up and I was falling asleep.
Not the most exciting of days but nice in its own way.
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