The English Country Weekend: “Me, Not The Horses”

It’s a silly little story but one that had me smiling; that’s what happens on an English country weekend.

We have been trying to explore on the weekends and to discover more of the English countryside. With the leaves turning and the countryside awash with colour it’s the loveliest time. As much as I am sorry to miss the gardens in their full floral glory I am happy with the exchange.

At Lucknam Park, in Wiltshire, the leaves had thrown a golden carpet for our arrival.

Back to my little tale,

I asked David to take a photo. Call me vain, but I am rather fond of this jacket and liked the military green against the foliage, especially with the yellow frames of my glasses. As I have mentioned before I don’t like having photographs taken as I think I am never properly dressed, or some such similar excuse. This day I thought, now or never.

I get myself together, preening away, so I can look my best.

He walks away from me, towards the horses, and starts snapping away. When I understood he was not in any way pointing or clicking at me, I asked him what he was doing. Looking back at me he was completely puzzled.

I should have clarified not presumed. Never presume.

The penny dropped and I said, “Me, not the horses.”

I found it hysterically funny because here I am thinking I look pretty cute and perky in all my country kit and telling myself to stand up straight, hold the stomach in and smile (remember it takes 10 years off the face or so I have been told) and he hasn’t noticed and is doing his very best to focus on the horse and riders.

Maybe this happens when you have been married 30+ years.

He did take my photograph as you can see but by then we couldn’t stop laughing.

Why would he think I wanted a very distant shot of a horse and rider? I’m still pondering that; so is he.

Have a fabulous weekend, xv.