Country Life.

There are definite up sides to living in the country, I know this because I don't....live in the country that is.

B's brother and wife (P&A) however do, witness yesterday's sunny afternoon blipfest with bubbles. Acres of of land. The smell of cowslip hanging in the dry air. The silence interrupted by a snort from the bull in the top field or the roar of a distant quad bike as the local 'travelers' race around their arrested domain.

We can see 2 other houses, both within a half a mile. We make as much noise as we like, there's no-one listening. The boys race up and down the lane in pedals carts with little Ollie chasing them on his bike. They create an imaginary scenario, cops and robbers I like to think. Reality is, they are completely safe, no cars down this lane other than those parked in the drive already. It looks and sounds such fun and in my head, I'm there with them. Youth is wasted on the young.

We drink and catch up, telling stories each in turn, some more out of turn than in, amusing nonetheless. Laughter streams in through an open window in the kitchen along with the midday sun reflecting off the Water jug as it gets refilled - conversations continue - walls no barrier.

Smoke from the BBQ lingers and swirls around the table in the middle of the lawn, diners wafting it away as they do the variety of flying insects made more visible by the setting sun. We cannot tell when the smoke disappears - we have no reference points to gauge it's distance from us - but it's still around for we can smell it, perfumed with tree bark.

Feet up, the evening sun warm on the legs and wine smooth on the throat, tongues are loosened and laughter is louder. A moment of silence provides me with my cue...
"This is the life!" I say like it's never been said before. Everyone agrees.
"I could do this!" I continue. There's a lot of nodding follows my revelation but few words. My brother-in-law breaks the silence with a more profound admission...
"We do!"
Fair play.

Yes there's definitely a lot of upside to country life.

As we drive away to make our way home, I'm left thinking I wish I could stay. Stay out in the country away from the smoke. Away from the every day grind that awaits me up the A21. B and I try to cheer ourselves up by manufacturing some downsides and quickly find one that needs no followers....

P & A have chickens. One is called Mrs Thatcher. She's had three good seasons providing fresh eggs daily for her masters. Some fiendish detective work has revealed it is she that has ceased producing. 3 seasons is enough for Mrs Thatcher. It's a shame for her....for she only has one use left now. Judging from the look on her face in today's blip, she's been told what that is!

Apparently 3 seasons is about all one can expect. Lucky it applies to chickens a not humans! Pass the gravy.