Blenheim in the heat
A summer holiday in England is always a toss-up. I’ve had summers where even homo sapiens feel the sogginess of hoof and mouth disease, and other summers with dry reservoirs and lengthy hose-pipe bans. This is one of the Augusts when green is but a memory.
So here in our holiday home just outside the gates of Blenheim Palace, our raincoats and heavy shoes haven’t made it out of our checked luggage, while we’ve had to restock sun block more than once. Salads for dinner, rather than Sunday Roast with Yorkshire Pud.
Still, we’re not quite to the hose-pipe ban stage, and so long as we can let the kids run through the sprinkler in the heat of the afternoon, we’re okay. And I may have found a fixer-upper on the palace grounds:
It’s along the beginning of the stream Capability Brown claimed and brutalized to make a pretty lake for his client the Duke of Marlborough, the better for strolling aristocrats and floating swans.
I hope your summer is going well, though perhaps not quite so warmly.