The weather seems to have developed a troubling pattern: we wake to a sunny, if frosty, morning, but by the time we're actually dressed and quasi-breakfasted and on our way, the clouds gather. We usually get to our destination, pay the entrance fee, and then the heavens open up. Wet, complaining teenagers (who reproach us that they didn't wear/bring their raincoat), and wet children who don't complain but need to be carried ensure. It seems that Danny is the only one who is always suitably dressed, and who has no complaints, as long as we keep sticking food into him at regular intervals.
Our first foray was to the Stourhead Estate, just over the border in Wiltshire, gardens with exquisite views, enhanced by spectacular fall colours and--a hailstorm!
The four children had wandered off as one, leaving four adults to meander the path around the lake, and wondering from time to time if they were wet and miserable. We made a half-hearted effort to call them, but did not panic when we discovered that none of us had phone service. Karen rightly predicted that they had sought refuge in the buildings at the entrance. A short stop in the fading light to get Alfred to his namesake's three-sided tower completed the tour, and we tucked into a feast of take-away Indian food.We then left the smaller kids with Crispin and wended our way through the labyrinthine streets of Bristol to IKEA to help stimulate the EU economy. In a mad dash to the checkout before closing, we had to deal with a few teenage hissy fits, but seem to have ticked just about everything off our list. Except a decent chef's knife, which for some reason, was entirely sold out.
Yesterday we took the clan to Bath, the classic Roman/Georgian attraction. I hadn't been for well over a decade, and am happy to report that they are still lovely. The boys seemed to enjoy it, and there was a breathtaking moment when we came out to the main bath to discover a thunderstorm had rolled in, and the cold rain hitting the warm water raised a cloud of steam. We regrouped with hot (soy!) cocoa for the trek home, and put together supper.
Today has dawned clear and frosty cold; we are slated to press apples into cider, which seems an apt way to spend a late autumn day.
Tomorrow we head home, back through Wales, on the ferry and back to Wicklow in time for Halloween. I wonder if we can take a kid as a souvenir?
