It was extremely stormy on Saturday. Rain and high winds battered the south of England to the point that the south coast nearly got blown away. It all sounded rather dramatic. We had no such dramas. In fact, Saturday morning was quite nice. Then rain arrived and so did wind. But nothing really excessive, especially given that it is November. The seagulls, who are back from their summer holiday, rather enjoyed the winds.It is fortunate, though, that we weren’t having the gales they were having in the south. We had arranged to meet my colleague Joanne and her daughter in Bakewell later in the afternoon. She is hoping to buy a house there and wanted The Builder to cast his eagle eye over a place she has her eye on. It would have been quite dangerous driving to Bakewell in a truly, proper howling gale!

The house/cottage that Jo has her eye on is in the same terrace that she is renting in. And it’s rather cute. It’s up on the hill above the church with spectacular views. But it isn’t worth what they are asking for it. And it’s odd, because they had it on the market a year ago for less, they even had it featured in a house selling TV program – and it didn’t sell. The market hasn’t really picked up since. You’d think they would have put it back on the market at, or slightly under what they were asking last year. But no. Up by 5 or 6K. It’s still not selling! The vendor caused much mirth when she asked Jo if The Builder and I were her parents (I’d have been starting motherhood at an unusually early age if I were her mother!). And it was unfortunate from her point of view that it was raining heavily, thus indicating that the roof was leaking into the upstairs bedroom. What really horrified her was when Jo pulled up the rug which was tastefully arranged in front of the gas fire and which was the only piece of furnishing in the otherwise empty house – to reveal a mess of dried cement on the tiled floor!!!! Jo has put in an offer, but at considerably below the asking price. I don’t suppose for one minute they’ll accept it, but she can always offer a little more!

We went back to Jo’s for a cup of tea, and a late afternoon snack of cheese and bread and red wine.

For some time I’ve been thinking I should be more adventurous in what I eat. I’m extremely adventurous when it comes to types of cuisine, but not so much when it comes to ingredients, especially meaty ingredients. Once I went to a friend’s place for dinner and we were served boar. I was extremely suspicious about this. Don’t know why. I eat pork perfectly happily. And the boar was delicious. Many years ago I went somewhere where I was fed rabbit. Extremely suspicious of that, I was. And it too was delicious. I’ve had it once or twice since and really enjoyed it but have never cooked it and wouldn’t choose it in a restaurant, although I can’t think why not. I was absolutely appalled when Simon fed me barbecued kangaroo once when we were in Melbourne. That too was very tasty. Clearly I need to eat more widely among the food animals available. But if you are going to be adventurous when you are out and paying good money for your food, then you need to be adventurous somewhere where you know the food will be of a high standard and beautifully cooked. Not an easy call, somewhere with high standards and unusual things on the menu.

Now you may recall me mentioning that The Builder’s mother has been unwell lately. She had been pretty much confined to the house, had been getting forgetful and confused, was fairly miserable and extremely bored and lonely. People have been going to visit her, of course, but she really wasn’t a happy little vegemite at all. So we arranged to go down to visit her on Sunday. It had to be a day trip, although that is definitely not our preferred option (dinner on Saturday evening, followed by breakfast on Sunday morning in The Swan is definitely the preferred option) partly because we were going to look at Jo’s potential house, partly because there were Things To Do, and partly because we need to be a bit more careful with the pennies sine The Builder retired. Mostly, though, was that we simply wouldn't have driven to the south of England in the storms, tempests and inundations of Saturday!! Fortunately, I was working an evening shift on the Monday, so that gave me a bit of leeway for getting to work. And as it happens, I didn’t go in until later in the afternoon anyway.

Anyway. We rang Gwen on Thursday and found that she was feeling a lot better. Her medication has been changed and I think her memory and confusion are not as bad as they had been on the old medication. Certainly she was nothing like as bad as it seems she had been the previous week. We asked if she would like us to bring something for lunch with us, or if she would like to go out. She leapt at the opportunity to leave her four walls. I rang and made a booking for Sunday lunch at The Swan. (And it was just as well I did – The Swan was extremely busy).

It did not go unnoticed by Matthew or Carl that we had rocked in for lunch but had not stayed over on Saturday night! (We’re going for lunch on New Year’s Day without staying New Year’s Eve too – but that didn’t seem to worry them when I made the booking)

The Swan, of course, more than fits my requirement for high quality food which is well cooked and which has adventurous menu offerings. And amongst the Sunday roasts was roast partridge. The Builder’s mother was very excited by the partridge. I had never eaten it. But if Gwen was excited, and if The Builder was carefully considering whether or not to have it (he had the pork in the end) – I really had to go for it, in the spirit of being adventurous. And you know – it was lovely. Absolutely delicious. I had a remarkably nice tomato and butternut squash soup before it. No room for dessert, alas, despite not having had any breakfast.

I must keep an eye out for partridges and try cooking them myself. Or find myself in Stoford for Sunday lunch more often!!