Sunday, May 8

Sunday Joy

Since Sunday, the weather fine and Katy here, we motivate to Ham House on the Thames. The Shakespeares mood only worsened when they realise we will have a guided tour of the grounds , 1230PM, sharp. I tell each they must know one thing, and one thing good, which they will tell me afterwards (Madeleine: "Aw, Dad, this is torture.") while Eitan sulks. The old-age pensioner takes it in stride and gives us a lovely overview of the property from gardens to gates, kitchen to ice which, we learn, Queen Victoria had shipped from Norway until she decided America had better ice, then it came from there ("beggars belief" our guide says). Once concluded, Eitan and Madeleine snap-to with Best Behavior, under Sonnet's watchful eye, and all ends up fine.

This morning I look up Ham House's opening times.
Madeleine: "What's that?"
Me: "Ham House."
Madeleine: "What?! We're going there?!"
Me: "Yep."
Madeleine: "Aw, Dad, it's just an old house."