home

well, after being a home to three generations of us for many years, there's not much point in trying to describe Scotta House Farm as anything other than home for me. the actual farm house is the building at the bottom in the middle, although in my lifetime it featured white walls.





there are many tales that this old building could tell. the one of the New Year's Eve party i held there probably won't be referenced on this site other than this sentence, even if it was so good that people caught a taxi back to it after requiring some medical attention at the hospital......

moving on, to the bottom left are the trees where every Autumn Richard, Gillian and i went over to gather conkers. i believe the fine art of conkers is now banned or at the least frowned upon in schools in England, which is a great shame. just thinking about it, i can feel the crisp brown-yellow leaves crackling under my feet.

the field to the bottom right will forever hold a special place in my heart. one winter saw Gramps take serious objection with a rental matter, and so he marched through that field, despite it being knee deep in snow. Gran and i stood at the top of the stairs and watched him walk across, puffing away on one of his beloved King Edwards. why he walked up instead of phoning i don't know - knowing Gramps, i would imagine that it was because it was cheaper to walk up!

the way in and out, up in the top left, provided the moment of one of the funniest things i have ever seen. as we were leaving after one visit, Richard decided to open the car door. he didn't fall or jump out, but he opened as we went through a puddle, and turned around to face us with a nice splat of muddy water under his eyes, giving us all a big smile!

i have been busy with the scanner and some old pics, so more images on the way. you have been warned!!!


be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!