Ammerdown

Ammerdown is a very beautiful retreat house ner Bath (Jane Austen country). Tony and I were there this week for his 'pre-retirement' course, and I was invited to go with him. Presumably this is in case he forgets how to retire and I have to tell him. A firm of consultants had been brought in to instruct, and boy, did they instruct. On the most beautiful spring day of the year so far, we were all made to sit down around tables and listen to somebody telling us the cost of nursing homes. Yes, really.

The next day the sun was exhausted from all that shining and went in again, while we spent the entire day learning about insurances, pensions and benefits. It was all very fast paced and there was barely time to down a coffee between one session and the next. Then we got to the session about 'what to do if you haven't got a house'. Thanks to you, my lovely readers, I don't have that problem, so I went for a wander round the lovely woodland instead, and met a very busy little wren. Really I was getting too over-excited after all those pensions, and needed to calm down. By the way, it was a case of no Wifi, no blog, and I could only send a text by pointing the phone out of the bedroom window.

On the other hand, the place itself is lovely and I asked the chef to adopt me. We'll be back.

AND - I turn my back on The Archers for a few days, and what happens? Chris Carter gets himself kicked in the chest by a horse, that's what, and now he's critically ill. He wasn't too thrilled before that because Alice, his missus, wanted them to move to Canada and had gone for an interview there. So now all the Carter, Archer and Aldridge women are gliding about and whispering anxiously, his mum just had a fit of the vapours, and Alice has flown home and was last heard sobbing at his bedside. Get a grip, woman. Pull yourself together and tell him to do the same.