The farmer and I, along with friend W, have been out for Sunday lunch. Isn't it good to do this? When I was young I don't remember our parents ever doing anything like this. Morning coffee perhaps at a friend's house, or afternoon tea (we always went twice a year to a great Uncle and Aunt who were very 'posh', so that I always had to be on my best behaviour and had a new pencil and a new exercise book to take so that I had something to do to keep me quiet).
Coming, as I do, from Lincoln, then Stokes's Coffee house was always a place to meet for morning coffee. Last time I was in Lincoln I was pleased to find that it is still there in Glory Hole - a bridge over the River Witham.
But now the thing to do is to go out for Sunday lunch - a full roast dinner which saves a lot of hard work on the part of the cook, and also means a couple of slices off a really big joint, which is much more succulent that a tiny joint for two.
What did we eat? Predictably the farmer had roast beef and Yorkshire pudding with horseradish sauce and vegetables (he also had mushroom soup first). W and I both had roast pork with stuffing and apple sauce and vegetables. It was delicious.
Did we need any more? No, definitely not - we were full to bursting. Did we have any more? The farmer had chocolate brownie, W had poached pears and I had icecream. All followed by coffee.
We are now home - Tess has been walked on this lovely Spring afternoon - sun shining, sharp breeze, lambs in the fields, daffodils out in gardens, primroses out in the hedgebacks - oh yes -Spring has definitely sprung. Now I am going to sit in the chair and sleep off that Sunday lunch.