jackl’s blogPotato Day at Stonham Barns (10/2)
The Wife is an avid gardener. She has an allotment. She is a member of an organic gardening club. And she enjoys Gardeners Question Time. She would, no doubt, have Monty Dons baby if he was in need of such a service. I feel I have to go into this sort of detail so that the following report doesn’t sound quite as off–the–wall as it would otherwise.
On Saturday we expected to spend the day looking at potatoes. We might have the chance to hear someone knowledgeable talk about potatoes and, this was the bit me & The Girl were looking forward too, maybe even eat some potatoes!
Getting there
I’ll admit to not being particularly excited with the prospect of a trip to Suffolk in order to see some potatoes. This may have made my usual cheerful morning mood a little less cheery. Along with the Large household time zone problem (treats time in a Tardis like fashion: it moves much faster inside the house than outside) which meant we were late getting out to pick up The Father–in–Law. The rain, like my mood, was getting darker by this point and the thought of standing at a bus stop waiting for a coach that may have already left reduced me to snappiness (at best).
The ‘coach’ did arrive and as we were the last pick–ups we got the three seats that were left. Sadly there was four of us. The Wife, perhaps realising my demeanour wasn’t all it could have been, let The Girl sit on her lap.
Stonham Barns
After a short while we arrived at Stonham Barns where the Potato Day tent was pitched. Yes, the main event was in a large tent, you could call it a marquee but that promotes visions of weddings, smart people and fun.
We were charged £1.50 to enter and for that sum got a catalogue of, you guessed it, potatoes. The strangest thing was the fact that it was packed. Not just busy but single–file London underground busy! There were the expected ‘seed’ potatoes, books, tools, a corner devoted to HDRA flyers and yes there was the samples to eat… me and The Girl swiftly moved in the direction of the food leaving the gardeners to their interesting uncooked potatoes.
After 15 minutes even Gary Lineker couldn’t have stopped me escaping this ‘tuber–tastic’ tent. That was it for Potato Day for me and The Girl; we left the green–fingered mob to their spuds. As we exited to see what delights Stonham Barns would reveal we noticed a small takeaway hot drinks hut. A coffee and a 7–up later and we were on the move again.
Redwings
Stonham was obviously a very virtuous place. It was a sanctuary for not only horses but owls too. The Girl being a horse fanatic was more than happy to go see them. However first we came to the Owl Sanctuary. Knowing little about owls I was vaguely interested (come on they beat potatoes hands down) but it was a cold day in Suffolk and we still had drinks to finish so I thought it best not to go into the Owl gift shop with an eight year old and half a can of 7’up.
So The Girl got to splash through some more lake–like puddles while I regretted my footwear decision some more until we got to Redwings. Unfortunately, just to add insult to a pretty poor day out, the horses were on holiday! There was just a demountable gift shop which fronted the horses normal residence. The lady behind the counter was friendly and the gift shop was warm so we decided to set up camp there until The Wife and Father–in–Law left Spud–U–Like Land.
Redwings, in case you don’t know, is a horse sanctuary. The wife is quite knowledgeable on these establishments having been involved in a smaller Horse and Pony rescue organisation in Wales (Lluest Horse & Pony Trust) for a good number of years. She’s never had much good to say about Redwings as they tend to spend a large amount of the donations on things like gift shops and glossy brochures. However, as I pointed out, Redwings is now a national organisation whereas Lluest is still struggling to keep it’s head above water in a small farm in Wales. Both have been in existence for about the same amount of time.
Whichever philosophy you choose they both help equines and donkeys that would otherwise have a very raw deal in life and that should be saluted.
The Girl was unphased by any of these adult concerns as this shop had toy horses and she was an expert in toy horses. The shop could be looked over in around ten minutes if you took it really easy so twenty minutes later we were starting to look like we were casing the joint. I forget the number of times I told The Girl to “look not touch” before I relented and let her buy yet another toy horse (we couldn’t decide if this was the 41st or 51st horse in her stable). It had to have a name and so Sparky was galloped around the perimeter of the gift shop when The Wife and Father–in–Law finally made an appearance.
Waiting for the mini bus driver
I took the opportunity while waiting for the mini bus to talk to the Father–in–Law while The Wife and the lady behind the counter discussed the relative merits of horses and donkeys. He has a liking for techie things, all things motoring as well as golf and gardening so I can always get a decent conversation (as long as you discount the golf).
The village pub: salvation from an otherwise average day
We left Stonham Barns and proceeding in the wrong direction for around 10 minutes came to possibly the best small, rickety public house that I have ever seen. It was what you–d expect a pub for hobbits to be like, roaring fire, little to no decoration in the last decade and the best selection of local ale (you had a choice of three). We settled for the ‘Albert’ and were not disappointed.
Photo courtesy of Pyrator. Great work, thanks.
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