I am being frugal but healthy and John pronounced this lunch truly delicious, so I'm noting it down.

John has covered most of our weekend in Dorset in his blog. So I'm just going to list a few of the best and the worst things.

The Best Things were:-

1. The beautiful and comfortable Georgian bed and breakfast in an idyllic setting by the river at Frampton with the three friendly dogs, the painting of a Breton fishmarket by an unknown French artist, Beaufils, and a beautifully carved, pale wood, almost lifesize swan. And the gate, which miraculously opened by itself.

2. Walking through fields of lush, fresh scented, bluegreen grass in the evening under a big sky, making our way down into the valley where Trill farmhouse welcomed us. It looked like a gypsy festival with all the children and dogs roaming around and everybody dancing to the band. And the wine came in huge, pear shaped carafes, echoing some of the drinkers - in the best possible taste.....

3. Climbing hills, which I hadn't done for a very long time and which was rejuvenating.
Tramping the length of the ramparts at the Iron Age hill fort of Maiden Castle, meeting some delightful people there and later on sitting by the sheep on a low wall eating pink Discovery apples, Jarlsberg cheese and Waitrose's very delicious 'tiffin' bars.



4. Meeting the eccentric and knowledgeable old 'cider' man, tending his ramshackle greenhouses next to the ancient mill. The six foot square blue and gold clock which looked as if it should be somewhere like King's Cross station but is stacked up against a wall and weighs a ton. And here's a photo of the incredible hewn stone machinery.

I must just put this down before I forget because it's a story of kindness, of which I think more should be reported. And I also wanted to say 'thank you' to this unknown person, who was so kind to me, especially.

Last week I was on the underground with my nose in a fascinating book. I was wearing my deliciously soft new aubergine coloured long cardigan (Fenn, Wright and Manson), which I bought in Peter Jones last week as my 'top spot' for the Autumn. A season which unfortunately seems to have arrived already. My cardigan has a pocket either side, but it would be a mistake to put something heavy in there. They are meant only for small handkerchiefs!

Before I got on to the tube, I had been wearing my sunglasses (a free gift with a raincoat). Yes, an odd choice to put together but both good quality products. I had had the sunglasses for two years or more and like them very much because they are 40's film star tortoiseshell design...... no aviator stuff for me. This year it would have been difficult to replace them as I find the 2008 designs very ugly on the whole. Probably to do with middle age or maybe sky-diving just doesn't appeal.

Well, suddenly, I found myself at Green Park and had to leap off in a hurry. I jumped up, forgot to look behind me as I usually do in case I've forgotten something and wandered off down the platform to the escalator. I did hear somebody shouting 'Madame' at the top of their voice but ignored it, as I was part of a crowd of people walking towards the exit. Then a large man with black curly hair and a beard, dressed in robes of some nature overtook me and handed me my sunglasses, which I hadn't even realised I'd lost. I had absent mindedly put them in the pocket of my cardigan as I got on the train and they had fallen onto the seat as I got up to leave. The man who was shouting 'Madame' was on the train and going further so he had obviously asked this other man who was getting off to run after me. And this relay race of kind men reunited me with said sunglasses.

I wasn't able to say thank you to the first man in person, so I'm broadcasting it here. Many, many thanks for your kindness. I will think of you both every time I put on my sunglasses and hope I might be able to do somebody else a good turn soon. It is so heartwarming to be cared about and looked after by strangers and gives one hope that kindness might prevail in the end.

END

We inherited a rampantly overgrown garden when we moved here in the early 1970s. The old man who owned it before us had grown tomatoes and there were two greenhouses, which took up a lot of the space. They were quite ramshackle, so we took one down altogether and replaced the other, as I also planned to grow tomatoes. Somebody gave us a black mulberry tree, which sadly came to grief in the big storm some years later. I put in a grapevine by the front door which had no fruit for seven years and since then it's been like a mini vineyard, heavy with bunches of grapes every summer. They turn a rosé colour when ripe and taste of strawberries.



The garden has walls on all sides. These came in especially useful when we kept rabbits and allowed them to run around freely. Although they managed to dig a large warren while unsupervised, they couldn't dig under the walls. They escaped from the clutches of the neighbouring cats by scarpering down the holes they had dug. We were sad when they died but I was thrilled to find I still had some of my original plants, which began to flourish again, with nobody around to eat them.

I had been prowling around endless nooks and crannies in central London, sniffing out the territory for possible office space re John’s new venture, VOLANS, when, without so much as a ‘gardez-loo’, one of those unpredictable and vicious April showers targeted me, threatening to leave me like a drowned rat, upended with the entrails of my pink rose umbrella, in the gutter. And initiating a ‘bad hair’ day to boot…rah…

I ran for cover, bounding through the back door of Stanford’s travel bookshop in Floral Street, where there is a small and welcome café and a feast of travel literature on the shelves beyond. I had a day or so to make up my mind as to where we could go for a week at short notice.

The wind was very blustery this morning. So fierce at times that as I was buying a box of organic eggs from the Somerset farmers, the stallholders had to hold down their flimsy tent coverings, two of which were buffeted mercilessly to the ground..... the eggs survived. I also replenished our apple juice store from Ringden farm orchards. A husband and wife team come up every Saturday from the Kent/Sussex Weald to sell both apples in season and juice all year round. I bought two bottles of 'Russet' and one of 'Discovery' for £5.00. They do a great variety, including Worcester, Cox and Bramley, Red Pippin and Grenadier. Large green glass bottles, great value and truly delicious.

Cyprus. Not a number one choice for me, but John had talked about revisiting his childhood haunts there since I met him in 1968, so when I saw Northern Cyprus scheduled for early March in the ACE brochure, including many castles, I thought I would make it happen.

The tour leader is Curator of the British Architectural Library at the V & A museum. That sounded good, too, and when I managed to book the last two places, I was cautiously optimistic. John was thrilled.