It’s been an action packed few weeks. I hopped over to England for Christmas and then to New York for New Years and Girl Hunter media, and then to Indiana and Dallas for book signings. Now I’m home sweet home. There’s something magical about eating at home and sleeping at home. There’s no place like it.
While I was in England, aside from doing my favorite things, I went to one of my favorite places up ‘narth. You may remember it from last year. It is a friend’s estate where they have their bird shoot three times a year.
Oh, did I tell you my family got a new dog at Tulipwood over the holidays? I’ll show you pics soon, he’s the cutest.
The British fields are awfully magical. They have that gray mixed with royal green look all the time because of the light. It seems to settle on the land there in a way that I don’t see many other places. I think Montana is the closest I’ve seen it come to that in the U.S. But Montana has its own magic light that is distinctly Montana. This is distinctly British light.
I like that lab in the background just going for it, whatever it is.
Isn’t Barnaby just the coolest name? He is one of the villagers and he is the funniest chap full of good cheer and humor at every moment that I’ve known him.
A drive is when a group of villagers and their dogs go through the bushes and woods and beat the trees with white flags in order to get the birds to fly out. The “guns” stand at their “pegs” and shoot in their line of sight above the treeline.
I love the red tassels. Have I mentioned that yet?
In the olden days, each “gun” also had an assistant to help them reload their guns as quickly as possible. Often you’d have at least two guns so that one could be reloaded while the other was shot and you’d just switch off. Since this isn’t the olden days, and since I’m not royalty, I had to just reload as quickly as possible.
We have to eat after all.
Does anyone know if we can get sloe berries in the U.S.? I want some.
This is his greenhouse and his estate.
But you know my favorite part about the inside?
It is light and crisp and tangy and rather dangerous because it tastes like juice so you can get carried away. It’s wonderful over ice. I wish I could have smuggled a case back with me. But instead I can only have it in The White Swan. One more excuse to go back.
This is a house on the corner of the road near the pub. The people that live there are called The Goths because they are a family that wears all black. They never seem to come out. Aren’t you curious to know what they’re all about? I am.
And dessert was a sublime sticky toffee pudding, over which we poured a healthy amount of heavy cream… from one of his cows.
And after dessert, big wheels of cheese were passed around. Along with an ample supply of port which was never allowed to touch the table. You had to keep on passing.
I love England.