01.09.13. Art exhibition day fifteen and cake to make your eyes water

Art exhibition day fifteen

Italy

Italy

 

It’s as if the weather knows it’s the official start of autumn, this morning it is dull and there’s a cool, actually it’s a cold, breeze. My winter walks never take as long as my summer walks – too cold to stand and stare………..

With harvest barely over, the shoot season begins today…………. deferred to tomorrow as there is no shooting on the Sabbath.

But back to a little harvest story of many years ago. I think it was 1984 or 85, and the harvest was very wet, it was extremely arduous and everyone was terribly tired. We suddenly had a few days of glorious weather. To make the most of this I had combined all through the night with Jim, the estate plumber, corn-carting for me…….(I know, I know, the night I spent with the plumber – please note, Lady Chatterley was not combine harvesting – it’s not the same thing at all).  The next day I slept.

We had one last field of barley to harvest; our men voted to work through lunch (I usually took over for the lunch break, but they kindly let me sleep through)…………….

I woke at about three, realised that I had not relieved the combine driver for lunch, and went into guilt mode. I hurriedly made sandwiches, a cake, and flasks of tea, I even found a checked cloth, and went up to the harvest field. I spread out the feast and took over the combine. After the break my husband joined me and we sat on the cloth to have some tea ourselves. About half of the cake had been eaten. We cut ourselves a slice, my husband took a large bite…………….. a look of horror spread over his face and he spat the cake out. That was the moment when I realised that I had mistaken my large glass jar of salt for my large glass jar of sugar. The cake was, I have to admit, disgusting. I tore up the field to the combine, full of apologies. Arthur, our combine driver, gave his sweet smile and said, well yes, he did think the cake was a bit salty, but it was nevertheless very nice of me to think of them, and it would have been very rude of him not to eat it after I had gone to so much trouble! I spent the rest of the day taking copious amounts of barley water and the like up the field, as I thought the men would certainly die of thirst. My salt and sugar now remain in the original packets!

The Holt children's play house

The Holt children’s play house

My walk today took me to the village and past my neighbour’s garden. I though the play house looked charming……………..Ah, childhood…………….

A thought for all the children both in our land and further afield, who’s childhood is filled with fear, and pain, and neglect. The children who have every right to be loved and protected – and are not……………………………….

More art tomorrow…………………….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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