Well. I did it. This post is mostly going to be me justifying it. The next one might be more of the same. I think it's going to take quite a lot of justifying.
9am: She's buttering me up with scones. They were waiting outside my door when I woke up, along with a paper, tea, honey from her own hives, and raspberry jam from her garden. The china's old and must be custom made. It's got what I swear is the actual castle we're staying in, along with tiny peasants working the fields, and outsized brown deer. It's paper thin. Even Sherlock's careful with it.
11am: Bagpipe lessons for the boys and, accidentally, for me. Well. Not so much accidental as self defense. Giving it a go myself was the only way to get them to stop. Sherlock knows he's got music lessons in his future, and I may at some point have said he could pick the instrument. I am clearly an utter idiot.
12pm: Deb took the boys on a tour of the beehives and left me behind with a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits and possibly the first real free time I've had since I left for Devon. I might owe her.
1:30pm: Lunch. Ham sandwiches with cheese and chutney on homemade bread. It's probably inappropriate how much I liked those sandwiches. We won't talk about it. Mrs Hudson, do you know how to make chutney?
3pm: The boys give me a tour of the bees. Sherlock is fascinated. Wants to keep them on our roof. I told him it's not happening. He did his fake crying bit, but no tantrums this time. Improvement. Also I think I'm getting better at telling the real tears from the fake. I'm not recording his tell here because if he knows what it is, he'll fix it.
5pm: We arrive back at the house. It's dusk. Picture it - the winding drive, the two story doors, wooden and studded with iron, carved into small twisted faces toward the top. The loch (it's definitely a loch; I checked) in the distance. The setting sun. Deb out of her tweed and purple clogs and into her family's tartan, holding the bagpipes.
TBC...
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