Places, Packs and Plots

The Baddesley Clinton House:

The last couple of days have been good for field trips. Today we went to the Baddesley Clinton house, which is in Solihull about 45 miles north of Oxford. One of the best things of the day was the drive to get to the house. We took the back roads and saw the English countryside that was so pretty it was like driving through a Contestable painting.

The house has been the home to the Ferrers family since 1517. The family, falling on hard time as happened with a lot of these estate families, let it pass out of the family a little over 50 years ago, but the man who bought it did so he could give it to the National Trust. He wanted to be sure that the house would be preserved.

One of the sad parts of this story is that the last of the Ferrers passed away last week and was buried yesterday in the family plot on the estate. He was 81 years old and they closed the house and had him lying in state for a couple of days.

Besides being a large estate with some of the most beautiful garden you would ever want to see, the house has another claim to fame. During the Reformation, the house was a heaven for persecuted Catholics. There are three priest’s holes in the house.

During this period of time priest secretly went from home to home holding mass and trying to keep the religion alive. Always in danger from the government, if caught, death was the best way out. Many of these homes had places to hide that were so well concealed the authorities could search for hours and never come close to discovering the hidden priest.

But what was so famous about this house is that it was one of the key meeting places for the “Gunpowder Plot,” crew. They almost pulled it off and almost were able to blow up Parliament and the King. The British celebrate the failure of this plot every year. We know it as Guy Fawkes day.

For someone who spent most of his life in Los Angeles going to these historical homes always brings out the fantasy. I come from a city where the oldest building is the airport. Being in a house where the same family lived there for over 500 years is something that I find hard to comprehend.

Ducks ‘O Plenty:

This morning was my last walk around the Meadows, hopefully just this summer as I plan to be back next year. My cheering section was down to one guy this morning, and truthfully he looked like he had had a rough night. But, while a bit weak, he gave me morning greetings and encouragement.

I have mentioned my swans but there is no update this year. There are two, but they don’t seem to have a family. It is only my romantic nature that thinks they may be the same as last year.

But, this year there is a large flock of Ducks, I would say 25 or so. They are there each morning and boy do they look healthy. One of them would make a dinner for a large family gathering. I see them each morning as they start their day. They spend time on the bank waking up and then slip into the river for the days hunt.

But, what I’ve noticed is that they have a guard to watch us early morning walkers. You pass within feet of the flock and they pay no attention, they just keep getting ready, heads down searching for grubs or something else equally as appetizing. 24 heads down pecking away, except for one fellow who head up and alert watches the intruder walk past. He keeps an eye on you until you are well down the path then he does a bit of morning pecking. I stopped a couple of days ago and watched, from a distance, as the sentry would watch a person go by, peck a bit and then head up watch the next person until they were our of range.

Which got me thinking. Is this the same guy each time? Or late at night before they go down after a busy day, is there a meeting? At that time when finishing up the day’s business do they appoint the next mornings guardian? “Okay, Phil you’re up tomorrow. Keep sharp, keep alert and sing out at the first sign that you see someone sneaking up with a fork.” Sort of makes you wonder.

Kingston Bagpuize House & Garden:

On Wednesday we went to the Kingston Bagpuize House, which is about 20 minutes outside of Oxford. In 1542 a moated farmhouse was build on this land that had had a house of some form or the other since Saxon times. Willed to a nobleman after the battle of 1066 it has been occupied since. Unlike other house on the National Trust this is not a major estate. It is just an old, nice simple farmhouse. Some of the furnishing goes back several centuries and every room is graced with numerous portraits.

But the charm here is this house is still being lived in. We were met by the Lady of the house how welcomed the tour and turned us over to a Doyen who conducted the tour. The owner invited us to join her in the kitchen for tea at the end of the tour.

She has two children, a girl of about eleven and a boy of nine. During the tour they stay at the top of the house so they don’t get in the way of the tourist. However, the boy has been known to hide under the big four-poster bed and pretend to be a ghost. We missed that, but I think it would have been a highlight of this or any tour.

As soon as we were out of the house, after tea, and into the gardens the kids were outside playing. It was sort of nice to be at a place this old and has seen so much then see kids playing, as they must have for hundreds of years.

Best laid Plots of Mice and Kenn:

So I decided that I don’t want to leave this room at the end of the week. I decided to take direct action and block the door with the desk and close all the windows and hold firm. But, I started to worry. Perhaps they might recognize me when the police came around. I’ve been here two weeks, and let’s face it I do stand out in a crowd. So I started to look around for a disguise.

In the High Street I passed a sporting goods store and I saw the solution displayed, bold as brass, in the window; a balaclava. You know what I mean, you’re seen those terrorist on TV, and they always have this hat/hood pulled down over their face, only their eyes exposed. The beauty of this is that you can wear it rolled up as a hat and then pull it down over your face as required. Just what I needed, with the proper tools a person can rule the world.

I couldn’t believe my luck, a summer sale. I guess it’s hard to move winter stuff in the summer, so all the ski paraphernalia was marked half price. Boy, talk about having good luck. I sauntered into the shop and grabbed the first one I could reach by the display and took it to the sales clerk. I was quite and subtle, as I didn’t want the clerk to remember me later if the cops came around.

Back at my room I was trying to decide if I should block all the passages first or get my disguise ready. After all I do wear glasses, and I don’t think that I’ve ever seen a terrorist wearing glasses, so I didn’t know just how well this would work. Without my glasses I am pretty much blind so this was an important issue.

I pulled the balaclava out of the shopping bag and went into the bathroom. I slipped it on my head, and it did go on easily. I was able to line up the eyeholes so that I could see out, and by poking the earpieces through the wool I was able to get my glasses in place.

I went to the mirror to admire my work. I peered into the glass and there staring back was my problem. On the top of the balaclava was this cute little red pompom. That tore it. You couldn’t be a terrorist with a little red pompom on the top of your head. I had just spent £15 on this thing and I wasn’t about to start tearing it apart.

Despite what you may hear on “Night Line” or CCN I decided to forgo my plans and plot. If I couldn’t get a good disguise then I would be recognized, and that would be a problem. So sadly I had been spending the morning packing in preparation for the trip home, when MI-5, who somehow had heard of my now aborted plan, came to my door. While polite they were firm. However, my solicitor says that I may be out in time for the company Christmas party.

On the other hand this winner during ski season, I’m all set and ready to go. I’m sure you will agree that I will look real cute.