Beehive

Yesterday we hugged Daughter goodbye, as she returned to Cardiff. Pleased to say she got there in one piece, in spite of somebody driving into the side of her sweet little car while she and Chap were visiting relatives.

Tony and I were off in the other direction, and arrived at my parents' home in time to take them to lunch at a delightful little pub near Seaton Delaval called the Beehive. We had heard good things about it and weren't disappointed, and it's such a very English little stone built building, too. On the subject of bees, it's been a dismally poor year for them, and the health of all species depends on bees. If you're thinking about planting a bee-friendly garden, do it. We put in a buddleia last year, and they love it.

Today we buzzed off to the beautiful village of Corbridge on the North Tyne, where we lived for six years. Something about the Tyne rippling over stones under that bridge makes me ache and sigh for joy at the same time. One of the joys of going back to Corbridge is that we're always sure to bump into somebody we know, and today it was the redoubtable, funny, lovely, Audrey, who is also a writer, a village stalwart, and a Scotswoman. What more could you want?

I came home to a lovely e-mail from Helen, and a couple of candidates for 'literary characters who need a slap'. Anne from 'The Famous Five' - yes, I too ploughed my way through that series hoping that sooner or later the only girl who acknowledged being a girl would do something to justify her existence. The other was Dora in David Copperfield - but personally I wanted to slap David. He fell soppily in love with the airhead when there was a proper heroine just waiting to be asked.

Speaking of characters I want to slap, what is happening in Ambridge these days? I miss a few episodes of the Archers and come back to find the village needs sorting, good and proper. Adam Macy needs a slap, Matt needs a slap, and Pawel needs the next flight back to Poland before he can cause any more trouble.

Sorted.