Extract from Sunday, 25th October, 1981:

A fine sunny morning, though the wind was cool.

We drove out to Edenham and walked to Creeton, Swineshead and back through Grimsthorpe Park. The trees were just beginning to turn, though many were still quite green. The Park was full of geese.

The green lane north from Creeton had been leveled and was brown - we promised Vicci a swim all the way up, but when we got to the River Glen it was dry.

Retired to the Five Bells for some Sam Smith's ~ excellent.

Pathfinder Harris triumphs again, arriving at the pub at midday precisely!

Weatherman Harris not so good ~ we sat in the garden and shivered, despite his predictions of a continuing warm day!

A fine morning, though overcast and the sun never broke through. "What a morning for a Fenland Walk!" cried George. M ² & I (of course) acquiesced, and so the Fodderlots it was.

Max and Minnie started a hare, and chased it about 500 metres. Vicci ran half way after them, glad to join in but not really understanding what it was about.

En route we saw a typical Fenland house:

"Needs pointing," said George.

Extract from Sunday, 15th November, 1981:

The banter started early in the car with Harris boasting about his Norfolk exploits - "I've been up Gypsy Lane!" he announced, smirking at his superior knowledge. "Do you know Gypsy Lane?" he demanded of George.
"No," muttered George unperturbed, "But I knew her father, Tiddler Lane,"

We arrived at Y ^e Olde White Harte too early, despite a conducted tour of Ashton, searching for a mythical cottage called "The Well", which George claims he nearly bought 17 years ago. "It was a quaint little place," he said.

"Did you get to the front door by bucket?" I asked.

Two weeks ago George deposited his walking stick with Harris while he ran. We usually have great difficulty securing his stick to Harris' "Orange Caravan", but I used two "sheet bends" on the upper flap cords, and it worked perfectly.
"How did you do it?" asked Harris. "Para-dog-stickally?"