Not long after Tom was born, in March 1995 I very proudly showed him off to the farmer who used to farm this place, when it was a working farm (as did generations of his family before him). Freddie the farmer (you’ve heard about him before) used to spend a lot of time after he retired and moved down in to a bungalow in the village, for an easier life, pottering around in the lanes, you’d see his car parked up in a gate way, Freddie would be leaning on the gate in the time honoured old farmer sort of way, watching the seasons go by, with his dog Scruff (a dog that could have no other name, it was him to perfection) sat at his feet.
Not a Spring goes by but I think of the words he said to me about Tom.
Ehhhh, a Spring baby, grand as owt; he’ll grow up wit’ grass
And grow he certainly has, he’s taller than me and his dad, and his younger brother is not far behind him (and may well end up the taller of the two).
The problem with this is that they no longer fit in the house. When Mr Uhdd and I bought this place (20 years ago this very month) we could never of imagined that our children would be so tall as to have to duck through door ways and stoop under beams.
I may have to show and tell.