Paddocks

Matthew's partner's son's girlfriend is thinking of grazing her pony in our fields (which she calls paddocks.) She was here yesterday, sizing up the situation. "Beautiful trees!" "Yes, my parents put them in." "How long ago is that?" "40 years." If the deal goes through no money will change hands but we'll get the grass kept down, the weeds and brambles and baby trees driven back and the infrastructure (sheds and fences and things) maintained in working order. I hope it goes ahead.

The pony comes complete with its very own goat. I've never been around goats before. 

A Lazy Day In August

It's been a very hot day, but  golden, autumnal. I understand there's some heavy rain on the way.

I've been looking at old maps of our area. I wasn't wrong in my supposition that the place-names that start in "King"- King's this, King's that- are a 19th century innovation- possibly in the service of gentrification- because what has this corner of rural Kent to do with royalty? On the earliest Ordinance Survey map (early 19th century) I find the word isn't "King" but "Fin".

An odd thing. I was sitting out in my deckchair just now, and suddenly- for a fraction of a second-  the foliage in front of me stopped being random and turned into a pattern of concentric circles. This happened twice.