We begin a mini-series for November; Coo publishes an extract from her diary dated 28th September 2018 :>) (poem to follow)

Coo's Croome: introduction

Dear Diary,

I am well and hope you are the same.

I have just returned from a very pleasant trip to Croome Court in the company of our FT, Mr and Mrs T., and the two bros. I am feeling inspired to write about it at length, in a series of entries such as this one interspersed with poems. Woo-hoo!

Croome is situated in Worcestershire, one of our neighbouring counties. Our journey was a little delayed by a traffic queue on the motorway, but the scenery en route provided ample interest. Of course we were travelling in our FT's wheelchair-accessible vehicle (WAV), with Mr T. driving and Mrs T. seated next to us in the back. The two bros made their way in Bro. A.'s car.

Once we had left the motorway, the road became a tad bumpy. Our FT began to resemble one of the Jumblies, by which I mean that her face took on a greenish tinge. At my suggestion she consumed a Gin-Gin, a ginger sweet that is usually effective in combating motion sickness. By the time we had arrived at Croome, she was much improved.

We met up with the two bros in the car park and progressed to the visitors' centre, to purchase tickets to view the grounds. The site of Croome contains many attractions, not least the imposing mansion; however, we had decided that we would focus on the outside areas. Due to a painful hip, it had been a few weeks since our FT had been able to venture out of office, so she was very much looking forward to spending some time in the sunshine. We were fortunate that there was plenty of sun throughout the afternoon, and only the merest whisper of wind.

Purchase complete, we proceeded in the appropriate direction, through a garden shop. I was pleased by this shop, as it stocked a fine assortment of bird sculptures. I stared at a handsome metal blackbird for some time.

Our route also took us past a tea tent, styled to recall the 1940s. Mrs T. explained that Croome had hosted an airbase during the years of the Second World War. This was known as RAF Defford, although in fact very few persons were aware of its presence. Mrs T. had bought a small guidebook in the visitors' centre; she read also that RAF Defford had hosted the testing and development of airborne radar, which proved very useful in the war.

By now, we had reached a small patch of woods with a path running between the trees. I am pleased to report that this path was smooth tarmac, a comfortable surface for our FT. We rode happily past young beeches, birches, and ash trees, with our FT able to concentrate a good portion of her attention on the glorious colours, textures, scents, and sounds. We encountered a few humans, but they did not create any difficulties. Some parties included at least one canine, but it is a rule at Croome that dogs should be kept on leads at all times, so we were untroubled by this life-form also.

After approximately 50 metres, the woods gave way to a clear area. We paused to admire the view, which was rather spectacular. At this point, I compose my first poem.

Essay by Coo & Co The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2018-11-05 at 18:54

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