Jack tours Old Quarrington

The week in between Dave and Kathryn's wedding and Jack's Christening was spent catching up with the Grandparents Thompson, and lots of other things, including taking Jack to see some of the sights around where I spent most of my childhood.



Grandma and Grandad's House - Jack probably recognised it from the painting on his nursery wall... well, assuming he's good at interpreting Mummy's abstract art!


That glazed look says it all ;)


The light was fading on our early evening stroll but we still thought it important to show Jack 'the front paddock' where Mummy and Auntie Katy spent many hours engaged in the equine and ovine adventures of their youth (Jack was very excited to see this... obviously)



Equally important was the gateway to 'the hayfield'


We continued up the road to the farm. The track leads up to the quarry (now in large part a nature reserve) where, from a young age, Jayne and her sister Katy used to ride out and walk the dogs. Grandma still walks this trail even tho the horses are long gone and the dog is not the one Jayne used to walk with. The shell of a barn you can see to the left is what remains after a stack of hay went up in smoke many years ago... it caused much excitement in 'the street' (what we affectionately call the little community of OQ) as people rushed to get horses and cows to safety.


Jack peeks out of his stroller into the farmyard. It was the first time he would have seen big bales and such.



Taking a detour on the way home down 'the track' which runs behind 'the street'. We would always rein in the horses on the way down this part of the track and by the time we got to the bottom they'd be sooooo ready to go... we'd spin round, let them have their heads and gallop hell for leather back up to the barn... Rolly was always the fastest despite being the littlest! Remember Katy? :) I remember our adventures down the track mostly fondly... tho not so much the time we were out riding when one of the kids from the street came hurtling past us on a very rattley bike sending Rolly and I flying down an embankment in fright, at the bottom of which I was unseated (errr... fell off!) when Rolly bounced off the wire fence. Poor Rolls cut his leg open in his panic tho by some miracle managed not to crush me. Bloomin' boys and their bikes! Tsk.

Anyway, there are plenty more stories about our antics 'down the track' which I'll no doubt tell Jack some day... like almost losing wellies in knee-deep mud (there'll be moral to that story somewhere), somersaulting in huge snowdrifts (one of the few years we had proper snow), falling in a water trough teeming with horrible mosquito larvae (I think that's where my worm phobia came from... still sends shivers thinking about it), the time we held the "OQ Olympics", oh yes... and the infamous horse poo fight of OQ... yes, I know... it's gross... it was boys v girls (of course... and we were very young... and stupid!)... and of course the boys won... us girls could only just about bring ourselves to touch the old dry stuff while they were flinging fresh dollops! Like I say... boys... tsk. (roll the eyes).


Back to our trip... here Grandad T talks with Jack... when I say 'talking' it really was more like raspberry blowing. Enjoyed equally by both. :)


Grandma preferred the full contact raspberry blowing approach. ;) I don't know who was laughing more out of the three of us. :))