The Kids Are Alright

A "bletted" medlar, about to made into a beautiful golden jelly

In my first few months at Pilsdon there were no children in the community. In fact the community was mostly middle-aged and male, with a few exceptions. Although this seemed OK at the time, when River was born in May that year (2012) the change was very noticeable. Tough men who rarely smiled began to put on goofy grins and waved across the room at him. At break-times in the Common Room there was a new centre of attention when conversations flagged, as River was placed in the middle and learned to crawl, walk and break toys.

Once again Pilsdon's parsnips have grown to enormous proportions

River and his parents have since departed but the community has been enriched with more little people as families have joined. Right now we have three of them. Carl (5) and Henrietta (3)* arrived last December from America bringing their parents who became community members, and immediately won everyone over by their utter lack of bashfulness. They both seemed very easily to adapt to having about twenty-five adults to play with. And Matt and Mary brought their firstborn Rowan into the world in February who is now able to crawl and bring himself up to standing position. In fact when I moved his legs alternately whilst he was held in an upright stance I managed to get him to walk, as he repeated the leg movement without assistance.


Henrietta had her 3rd birthday last Sunday. She is a girl who knows her own mind. When asked what she would like on top of her cake she said without hesitation that it must have a bird with a pancake in its mouth. No one is sure where this came from. I suspect it might stem from Pilsdon’s Shrove Tuesday games which include “Toss The Pancake over the Manor House”. Of course no pancake makes it further than about a third of the way up the roof so birds do get quite a feast. Whatever the provenance of her birthday wish, it was granted and we all admired the marzipan bird with a tiny pancake inserted into its beak, perched in a nest of Cadbury Fingers.

The posts and wire are going in for the old espalier apple trees to be re-trained against. 

Somehow having kids around allows the adults to be a little more carefree too. Some miniature water pistols turned up which Carl and Henrietta were playing with, on strict instructions not to fire them at people. They both obeyed but sadly the adults did not, as an after-supper wash-up descended into an all-out-water-warfare.

Carl is quite the dapper dresser. Quite often he turns up to meals wearing a shirt and tie, his own preference not his parents’. He’s on a one-boy-mission to smarten our collective dress sense. Only very infrequently does the community rise to the occasion, such as the Christmas or New Year’s Eve’s feasts, when shirts are dusted down and fingers try to remember how to tie ties. I shall miss the Christmas occasion as I’ll be up with my family in Lancaster, but will be back in time for the New Year’s Eve shenanigans. Already people are planning what acts to prepare for the party - songs, skits, musical numbers, games. I can’t reveal here what my plans are of course, everything must be a surprise on the night. If the last three are anything to go by, it's going to be an awful lot of fun. 

An old cedar has blown over on our neighbour's land taking some fence posts with it

* names changed