Donald & The Field

We've finally settled into The Field (to the locals known as Therfield and we'd have been much better off if we'd known that when we were figuring out where the taxi should go. Therfield is surrounded by many "the fields" so we trundled hopefully o'er many a heath on that there night). This, as it turns out, is Therfield:



And this is the view of the fields and gardens from our current cosy home with Tom's sister and boyfriend, and nephews and niece:







There are deer and wood pigeons and all sorts of things I go cuckoo about because I've never really seen bunny wabbits and with those little cotton tails, they need chasing around the front lawn. Better than rabbits for chasing are pheasants which blatantly boast they are good for eating and I have raisins stuffed to the brim ;). This is a pheasant:

Which unfortunately I didn't even manage to find, so took a photo of this one by the lake which Tom shot clean out of the sky:



As we speak, Donald the Scottish gardener (formerly amazing military man, who times his tea breaks around the Aga with as much precision as he no doubt once deployed the troops) is hiding out under camouflage shooting wabbits in the field. It's 14 degrees, daylight reaches to 9.30pm, we're sharing duty of three kids between just as many people and I believe we are practically in heaven. Tennis and pimms less pimms plus vodka and I think that - at least for a moment - we're enjoying some serious heaven! The local pub is Fox & Duck and while the food isn't top notch the wine is great... but this is Therfield and it's a long way away from Mumbai, Calcutta, Delhi, Himalayas and Kerala... so I think it's time we went straight back to that tale...