It probably didn't escape your notice today that there was some kind of a flap on in London. We turned it into a party down here in darkest Kent, with Mum inviting a houseful of wimmin round for drinks and food and to watch it all on the TV including regular member of the cast of this story, Diamond. The house was primped and prepared to within an inch, the sideboard loaded with bottles and the fridge was bulging with everything from Coronation chicken, quiche, strawberries and cream and crisps, with guest bringing reinforcements of sausage rolls, a superb rhubarb tart and more booze.
This was always going to be a 'girlie' event with lots of commenting on dresses and hats etc, and the men decided to do a runner. We got our walk round the boatyard really early. John headed for a house he's doing up in town and started chipping off old plaster. Dad had agreed to go help 2CV Llew in his workshop down the other side of Canterbury. He stayed home to see the guests arrive and to share in a breakfast of salmon and scrambled eggs but then loaded me into the car and headed off.
Llew's "workshop" is in fact an enormous commercial (disused) green house with an earth floor which has, at the back end of it a decent sized rabbit warren. Some of the panes of glass are long gone so the rabbits have fairly free rein to come and go from greenhouse to the surrounding farmland and outbuildings. Others are broken and there's enough room for a rabbit to nip through but maybe not a westie..... (can you tell where this is going?).
The boys set to work moving cars about and tidying up. I wandered off in search of bunnies, rats and other farm beasties. At one stage I got a rabbit cornered but couldn't actually get at it and shouted at it, which set off Llew's dog, Rosie. The barking attracted out the land owner, just to check what the barking was about and he was chatting to Dad and Llew when they both hear a glassy crash. Men ran to see what was up, to see me whoosh off across the field in pursuit of a bunny. They worked out that I must have chased it through one of these not-quite-big-enough holes and 'finished off' another pane. There goes Dad, apologising for me again, but land owner was amused and not that worried.
A few more chores and Dad and I returned to the house in time for the food catching the wedding 'balcony scene' on the radio. The pictures tell some more tales of part tomfoolery.
All the best, William and Catherine