...around Lyme Park. As I stared morosely out at the teeming rain this morning, waiting for the Tesco man to finally turn up with my shopping, the deluge slackened and so we descended upon Lyme Park. I bought a National Trust membership and in we pranced, and then pranced straight out into the Gardens to The Gruffalo Trail. The boys (and Dad) had a blast following the signposts, clambering over various trees and logs and bounding upon Gruffalo footprints. Eventually the Gruffalo (or at least a wickerwork effigy) was sighted and cuddled to death, and we headed over to the gazebo where the boys pounded ferociously on drums causing lights on the adjacent tower to flash different colours. I stared at this amazing sight, blinking raindrops from my eyelashes as I huddled into my thick down jacket, and reflected that truly, there is nothing that compares to an English summer. Once the excitement of re-enacting the smugglers/bootleggers code palled, and the bout of rain had slackened, we headed into the Rose garden, and then the Orangery, where Axel Scheffler's art from the Gruffalo, and other books, was being displayed. After that we headed in to the Hall, which was fabulous, and the boys had a blast in the children's theatre and Nursery. Once we had finally sampled the delights in all the rooms, and it being 2pm, we had a picnic lunch (in the rain) and watched the boys cavort in The Crows Wood. A good day overall. Tomorrow morning I work and the boys are having a half day of school sport holiday programme at St James.
No comments:
Post a Comment