Sunday 3rd February 2019

Sunday

I laid in bed until twenty to eight. I must have needed it.

And with no football to watch, having seen it as broadcast the night before, so all there was to do was listen to music, make bacon butties and then decide to go out.

To go out to do some mild orchid hunting.

Not that there would be any in flower, but there should be rosettes, if you know where to look. And anyway, it was a glorious sunny day, no wind, and a walk in the wood is never wasted.

So, we drive to Barham, along mud caked narrow lanes, through woods and across muddy fields.

First all, I walk up the bridleway to look for the Early Purples. I was hoping there would be loads, as the winter has been quite damp. But I think damage over the last two years from rabbits means that there was only a few rosettes to be seen. The upper bank was almost orchid-free, which was startling to see, but there was more the other side. More might come in the next few weeks, but maybe not.

The other side of the road, the wood was silent, and with there no leaves to stop it, sunlight poured through onto the forest floor.

I found a good dozen Lady rosettes, some quite advanced. I hope for a good show in three months!

Jools has stated a new hobby, collecting litter when I go for flower-hunting rambles, collecting the stuff others leave behind. A Kentish womble! So, as I went orchid hunting, she collected a tyre, a burnt out chainsaw, some coveralls among other things. If we can do it, why can’t the wankers who dump this stuff?

On the way back we go to visit Mike and Jane, to catch up on what has happened.

Mike has his best friend over from the States to be a rock for Mike; its working. They went up to London on Saturday, to collect some of Meg’s stuff from the police, including a bundle of photocoped notes. Jools or I did not read them, maybe we will one day, but some seem to have been written either the day she died, or soon before. The coroner has the originals, for the inquest, and there is no news regarding the funeral date either, but it seems that it will be two weeks at least away.

An evening meal was arranged, so we scrap plans for steak and ale pie, and it being Jools’ last day before her diet begins, we have the bottle of fizz with the last of the cheese and crackers for lunch. Which means I end up falling asleep in the afternoon missing the most of the Arsenal Citeh game, which City win 3-1.

We get a taxi into town at seven, dropping us outside the Italian restaurant. We were the first to arrive, and I am confronted with a bottle of Brunello on display, and thinking I could really go for a drop of that.

Darren, Mike’s friend arrives with the rest, and is a wine fan, and orders the last bottle of Brunello in the place, and he and I are the only ones drinking it! Result.

Darren is a self made man, and a very nice guy. Turns out we have many shared memories and likes, including he owns the resort that my friends in Arkansas used to visit.

We eat well, and talk lots, though Meg is never far from our thoughts, and that when Darren comes back over (he’s going home this week) it will be for Meg’s funeral.

Jools and I have to be up at half four in the morning, so we bid farewell, as Darren opens another bottle of fine wine, and tries to tempt with just one more glass.

Jools and I leave, we go to the nearest taxi office and get taken home. It was already half ten, and we were to be up in 6 hours. Here we go again.