We seriously overstayed our welcome, Son and I. But that’s what will happen when people are nice to us, serve us lovely food and are generally very pleasant. Visiting Debi Gliori and her family can be highly recommended, but don’t all go at once.
On arrival we found the head gardener busy soaking Comfrey in big tubs, but it turned out that it wasn’t lunch. I’m so ashamed that Debi had to worry for weeks about what to feed me, but luckily her sensible gardener said that soup would be good enough for a bookwitch. It is. Lovely red pepper soup, with a dash of something out of a gin bottle, which I think was not gin. Crumble for dessert, accompanied by home made ice cream. Think best Italian ice cream.
The youngest Gliori was there, having had her school wall collapse and getting sent home, so she had to witness the lovely lunches the old people get up to when her back is turned. The second youngest also turned up, having climbed on walls with her school.
Speaking of the young, Son was there to take pictures, but had a secondary use in being First Dog Tummy Tickler. Their Waywoof is very fond of tickled tummy.
That shed is no shed, Debi! Far too lovely for mere shed-ness. The view from the shed is so stunning Debi has blinds to make it go away. Lovely garden. Lovely everything.
After some late gossip about JKR, and something about Russian princesses, we took our leave. But a bit on the late side, as I said.
.
Dear Bookwitch – trust me – you did not overstay your welcome. You can come to lunch anytime.
Jealous. Just a little, honest
Jealous? Because you didn’t get to meet the witch? Or because you didn’t get to taste Debi’s soup? Don’t answer that.
A little bit of both I think.