Mr Chips

One of the most pragmatic things I have ever done is to move to a school town. I arrived here about 14 years ago, and very soon met some of the teachers, the bursar and the headmaster of our local boarding school, and their families. It was a good choice.
Some have moved on. One is doing the sums for the RHS, sadly some of the older ones have died. But this old friend remains.

He lives life to the full. He spreads his time between Australia, Africa, Norway, America and Rutland, and mostly on bets made on football.

He had invited me for a chat and some wine at 5.30 this evening. He told me he would be in his garden, so I went down and caught this sight of him waiting in this lovely light.

He keeps his garden very straight, as you can see. I made him a card two weeks ago for his 85th birthday. It was made up of a list of his attributes, and characteristics. The one he liked most was 'Lawn Keeper to the Gods'.
He told me that Stephen Fry had written about his house when he was a pupil here. Fry had said that my friend's house was the Florence of the town. But it seems the lawn keeper description has gone down even better.


This is the same spot in winter...
Garden in thick snow