Billow and breeze, island and sea. Mountains of rain and a little sun.
Sunday evening are my quiet time, time to ponder the week ahead and the years gone. Enough crying in my pretzels, time is passing and things need to be told.
Susan and I took ourselves off to Sherborne Castle on Saturday. I saw a write up about the castle. I digress, the first historic novel I read was about Sir Walter Raleigh, explorer and sailor. He brought potatoes and tobacco back to England. This book opened my thirst for history, if you do not know the passed you are likely to make the same mistakes again, learn from you passed and move on to the future.
Sir Walter Raleigh built the original Sherborne Castle, huge and very expensive to maintain so he converted the hunters lodge into acceptable accommodation and lived there. Ok let's get on with it, he was beheaded and the Digby's bought it and have owned it since 1630.
Original castle is but a ruin, but the Digby's extended the hunters lodge to make it into a new castle, 40 rooms and countless painting and old tapestries. The gardens are grand and vast, meticulously maintained with a great lake in the middle. This is a garden where children can run free, picnics a must and for those who enjoy taking the odd photograph, a haven of tranquility.
All that is good, all that is fair. All that is me, is here.