From my window i see the changing hues of autumn, stubble fields being replaced with fields of fresh green shoots and the majestic oaks shedding their thick coats of resplendent green.
I have a wonderful view, uninterrupted field and hedgerow leading softly down to a large hornbeam wood. As a child i remember my numerous sorties down to the wood to collect leaves and nuts, filling my pockets to the brim with chestnuts to roast on the edge of my grandparents open fire, the sweet taste still lingers strongly in my memory.
Every school holiday was an adventure on my grandparents farm, fishing in the numerous pits, playing in the wood and stacking the straw bales in readiness to be pitched on to the straw cart. I would always help around the house too, chopping sticks for the fires and filling up the wood boxes and coal and coke scuttles, and as my grandmother was an excellent home baker, there was always a bowl to clean out and enjoy. I loved all the food in their diet, from shortcakes in the morning to a rusk with my cocoa at bedtime, the bed warmed with a large metal framed warmer housing a large red bulb, and the bed as soft as cotton wool. Halcyon days!
Sadly my grandmother is no longer with us, but my grandad at 90 is still living in the house, albeit with the loving help of his daughter and son-in-law. I worked along side grandad for 15 years and loved every day of that time. He could plough the straightest furrow with the least effort of anyone i have ever known, his combine gave the cleanest sample of any combine locally and i learnt much more from him, than i ever did at agricultural college.