A Different Voice

 On Saturday this Robin came to sing to us while we ate our picnic

next to this three pronged spreading tree,

in the  gorgeous gardens of 

Lanhydrock House near Bodmin in Cornwall,

the Victorian home of Thomas Charles of the Agar-Robartes family - he and his wife Mary

had ten children,

 and their own chapel and graveyard 

in the grounds.

Not sure why they had to  chop off the tops of these yew trees....they look sad to me.

This Times Newspaper from 1915....reading it brings that time to life for me.....even more than photos of the period...

A jug in the dairy - one of the many rooms making up the downstairs kitchen area - all very Dowton Abbey.

We don't spend long in the house....or the gardens...but have a cup of tea and a flapjack in the cafe before heading back down the A30. Increasingly these trips seem to tire Robin out although he says it's what he likes to do more than anything. We don't always turn the music on in the car as it often triggers " the voices" but he manages Paul Simon for a while because it's me who needs to hear a different voice.

This afternoon I lie on a couch while the lovely Kinesologist tests all my internal organs and says I'm much better....but  need to keep on with no dairy or sugar....which doesn't seem such a hardship any more. Especially after these Beetroot, Carrot, Walnut and Feta Cheese Patties I made for supper.