Where's Scott?

A little London wandering, drinking a few pints of the “black stuff” with Seb (Mabel drinks lemonade), and we spontaneously decide to head off and see the Gordon’s new cottage in the country. Celia has a prior engagement, so the rest of us pile in the car and head up the motorway. It’s not a long drive, but entertaining with Seb barking admonishments from the back seat berating Guy about his driving, navigation, signaling, braking, acceleration, waving (or not) to other drivers, and of course parking.

Their new country house is a beautiful and tiny “listed” cottage that’s so old it’s designed for people who are 4′ tall. Mabel’s the only one who can walk around upright (barely), and the rest of us are constantly dipping under heavy, black wood beams that span all the rooms. The house is composed of seven or so small rooms with a very warm sun room addition on the side. The “listed” bit means any significant structural changes to the cottage are forbidden, and so the house feels like a tiny, living museum.

After grabbing a bite to eat downtown, we make ourselves useful working in the cottage’s sizeable garden… which has “apparently” become completely overgrown in just the last few weeks. It’s great fun engaging in outdoor British yardwork, even though the four of us can barely make a dent in the underbrush despite having several motorized assets at our disposal; Mabel is especially fond of the weed-whacker (which is almost as large as she) and monopolizes it much to Seb’s disappointment.

For dinner, Guy cooks up some BBQ, and we finish with a few pints in the wonderful antique pub situated at the end of the cottage’s driveway (a significant factor in its purchase I gather).