The chickens are adjusting to the changes we’ve been making in their field. Daniel and I had moved the food to the opposite end of their space to make sure we don’t get rats again. Jan then moved the food closer to the coop, yet still not right next to it as it used to be. We have been receiving from those girls fewer eggs. I cannot tell if it’s because they are agitated with all the recent goings on, or if they are laying eggs outside somewhere. There is a huge stickery bramble that we see them crawling into so we’re going to have to cut that down. Jan brought home his scythe from the woodland and I told him I’m going to have to take a picture of his back while he’s swinging it around like the Grim Reaper because it’s awesome. He laughed and said, “It’s a really great tool.” The scythe also sort of looks like the pound sign.
Monday night we had dinner in the woodland with Jan and Pat. Since the weather has been nicer Jan wanted to be closer to nature. I wish we had outdoor furniture at Grange Place so we could eat our family dinners outside here. Usually I do not like eating outside, however this house stays very cold inside and I much prefer - you’ve learned by now, right? - to be warm. Daniel and I eat outside on our stools from our kitchen, and there is also one outdoor chair that is more comfy and we take turns sitting in that. Before dinner Daniel and I took a walk in the small forest taking pictures and talked a lot about people, habits, what is “Normal” and how it seems professionals categorize all those subjects. And then I did a funny walk and asked him if he would still be my best friend if I always walked like that. He said yes. Then we made a video of us both doing that strange walk. You have to keep yourself entertained. I told Daniel one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned living here is how to be comfortably flexible; which has proved extraordinarily helpful. Jan told us we were having dinner in the woodland at four so Daniel and I ate a small snack around noon. After arriving we discovered food wasn’t happening for a couple more hours and instead of becoming frustrated, I grabbed a couple crackers and we took a walk in the woods. Going with the flow has a more visceral meaning to me now. It’s not just about going with it; it’s about being a part of it. That being said, the part of me that is very organized, prompt, and efficient can still get a little tripped up when something happens differently than what was originally anticipated. Yet it doesn’t last very long anymore. I know the best thing I can do is to feel good. And I also know how to make myself feel good. It’s quite simple, go outside! Run or walk or read a book in the sunshine, listen to good music, or watch a fun film. Life is as complicated as I make it. Oooh man! Sometimes I really love taking responsibility for myself!
We could just see the cabin through the trees when we smelled the cooking meat. I was glad because I knew it meant dinner was almost ready and we were hungry. Since I didn’t end up making soup on Sunday, I made it Monday for our dinner. Pat and Jan really enjoyed it and asked for the recipe. Pat is somewhat of a picky eater, or at least has eating habits that she does not care to change so it’s always nice when she likes something new that I’ve made, or that Daniel and I have made. He does a lot of the cooking with me. Jan had barbequed some chicken for the two of them and we also had a tomato, parsley, and green onion salad. You’re meant to just plop some mayonnaise on top and eat it. We eat slightly more mayonnaise here than we did in the States, and actually we like it. Following those courses Jan had cut up a pineapple and we enjoyed that with some red wine, and finally our last few pieces of French chocolate. It was a really nice evening.
Yesterday we accompanied Jan into Exeter. He had to take Pat to the hospital there for some tests. They’ve gone again today for the test results. Daniel brought his laptop because even though he has finished his paper for school he is the kind of writer who does fourteen hundred rewrites. At first I was going to say, “A true writer” and then I thought “What does that mean?” I do about three edits myself each blog post and after this long being fairly consistent I’m inclined to call myself a writer now as well. And what I’ve been saying, for me, is true. So we sat in the car, Daniel typing away, waiting for what would happen next. We had a few things on our list to get sorted out. We solely took care of one thing. No big deal, I have to remind myself that if I really wanted to have those errands completed, I really would have done them.
Pat had waited on a park bench for us while we ran through the crowded streets of Exeter’s downtown mall area. Jan went to collect her when we finished and told us to meet them at the big French café we went to the first weekend we were here. It’s not a great café; however we appreciate all the French fare. Jan and Pat both took some kind of meat concoction with bread. Jan had a glass of white wine, and Pat drank hot chocolate. Daniel and I split a baguette sandwich with hummus, red pepper, rocket, and leaks. Daniel had an Americano and I stuck with lemon water. Then Pat and Jan shared an ice cream and sorbet dessert with fresh berries. They both seemed quite pleased. Afterward we drove back into Crediton where Jan dropped Daniel and I off at Morrisons grocery store while he and Pat went to pick up some dog food. Remember she has twenty plus dogs on the property so it’s a lot of food. Daniel and I sat in the sunshine waiting for them to come back for us, only to find out when they did come back Jan had some shopping of his own to do. Thus, we waited longer. They had a few more errands to run while in town and Daniel and I became slightly antsy about our frozen food getting warmer in the car.
Back at home we felt slightly frenzied to connect to the internet. It hadn’t been working all morning and personally it makes me feel much disengaged from people. After sufficiently answering a handful of emails Daniel suggested we walk into Bow for a pint and some cheesy chips. The house wished us luck as it is an arduous walk up and down three miles of hills and as we walked down the driveway Daniel joked, “We don’t need luck, we’re American. This is what we do!” I joined in, “Yeah, we have hubris! And that’s all we need!” Although for the first quarter mile I was feeling a little daunted by the return journey. It’s the same way we walked home from the bus station after our trip to Paris. The hill is pretty brutal. I had asked Jan about hitchhiking here and if anyone does it. I also asked if people would understand what it meant when we stuck our thumbs out. It is the same gesture here and so at one point walking down the hill we tried it. Daniel said the person smiled, but they didn’t stop. I told him to manifest a ride home, at least up the hill. The closer we got the more excited I became and I talked Daniel’s ear off about Lord know what, all sorts of topics. We passed cows, sheep, and three runners passed us. Runners! I always like seeing runners. Two of them were running together, and sometimes walking, but that’s how you start and I was glad for them. They happened to be wearing black pants and white shirts and I wondered aloud if they had planned it. I personally love to match my sister, Janelle when we run or work out together. I think it’s funny and cool. I took Daniel through the football [soccer] field as a shortcut and he snapped a photo of an awesome tree that looked like an elephant to me. On the street I pointed out to him all the houses Jan had pointed out to me the week before and gave him the small stories of the folks living in those houses.
Finally we arrived at The White Hart and we ordered our cheesy chips and garlic mushrooms, a pint of cider for Daniel and a pint of Bays for me. It was very relaxing sitting and sipping on our brews while listening to the gentlemen at the bar talk. [Where are all the ladies of this land?] Eventually, as it always happens, the fellow pub patrons engaged us in conversation. It’s established that we’re American and usually some political banter ensues. There was a young gentleman there who was polite and pretty much hammered. He told us how he had visited California years and years ago and that he liked it. He had no idea where he was in the state though and mostly his story didn’t make a lot of sense. Haha! The older fellows at the bar told us stories of Devon, stories of old pubs, and they also talked to us about horse racing. Then they told us about “The Village Idiot” whose photo is on the wall inside the pub. Apparently he walks down the lanes telling people that he killed his mother. The truth is that she used to say to him, “You’ll be the death of me.” And when she finally died, he thought it was his fault and it has made him a little nuts. They advised us not to talk to him if we ever see him. At one point Daniel said, “That guy reminds me of Phil.” And then I saw what Daniel was talking about and it made me happy. As I’ve said Daniel and I are truly blessed with loads of great parents and Phil, aka Phillip, aka P Daddy is another one of our dads from Springfield. As it happens, the bar man’s name is Steve and he picked up his keys at the same time Daniel and I were making our way toward the exit. The other men in the pub were not too happy about us leaving yet and even offered to buy us another pint. We knew it was time to go though and I whispered to Daniel, “Ask if anyone is headed up toward Hillerton Cross!” Instead he asked Steve, “Do you live near Hillerton Cross?” Steve asked us, “Why? Do you need a lift?” Daniel said, “Yes, we’d like one.” I think Steve did not live up that way, yet he offered to take us anyway. So nice!
As we said goodbye, shook hands, and learned names, one man took my hand and immediately I thought, “Come on dude, gimmie a real handshake!” I had misinterpreted though and he turned my hand, put it to his lips and said, “You’re lovely.” And then he planted a kiss on the back of my hand. Oh, what a little eye shadow can do! I said, “Thank you.” And feeling a little embarrassed hurried out the door and asked Daniel, “Did you see that?” We both laughed and Daniel answered, “Yes, and you are lovely.” Awe! There is a poster in the ladies restroom there that says, “Closing Time: If you’re drunk, then I’m handsome.” It makes me laugh; I’ll get a photo of it for you.
We hopped into Steve’s truck and got to know him a bit better, even though the ride to Hillerton Cross takes about five minutes. It would have taken us close to an hour to walk. This town is tiny! Turns out Steve knows Pat and was one of the men who picked apples in her orchard. The very same apples that made the cider we drank in the woodland last Saturday. Steve has some of the cider himself. He encouraged us to come to the pub again this Saturday for the horse races and to meet more of his friends. We told him he could drop us at Hillerton Cross; however he drove us directly to our driveway. As we said goodbye I told him, “Steve, thank you. We owe you a pint.” He told me, “No you don’t. You got to do nice things for good people.”
As much as I sometimes miss living in a big city, these are the times I feel thankful we are here. The good folks of Devon know what it means to live in a community, and they seem keen to let Daniel and I into it.
The sun is shining and soon we’ll go have lunch outside under the rays. Apparently the house has “solar something” so we’re waiting for it to get real warm and later this afternoon we’ll be able to take a bath. Our last bath was exactly two weeks ago, although we’ve washed our hair in the kitchen sink, and taken “Sponge baths” at our bedroom sink. It sort of sounds gross to read it, though we don’t feel too gross and we do not smell. There must be a part of our being-ness that is instinctually primal and that part has come out to run all about the farm.
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