"Let's go for a little ride," said Mr M, "just us, no interruptions, then we can go straight to the Bluefunnels in time for dinner." we had been invited, I hasten to add, so we weren't just going to rock up and expect food.
We had breakfast in Morrisons and then headed across the county and up to Abergavenny then onto the Hereford Road, still not really knowing where we were going.
"Rural Landscape", said Mr M, breaking the spell I was under just breathing outdoor air. It took a moment until I realised that he was thinking Scavenger Hunt so I switched on the camera and clicked a few times.
7. A rural landscape: This is a picture of several things that have a story. A field with those large round bales requires the occupants of the vehicle to say, in a loud voice, "Big Bales" (the origin of this ritual is forgotten). The tractor is driven by an expert - "A man out standing in his field". "Expert" also has to be said loudly (origin of this ritual also forgotten). The cows are not foreign, they are Holsteins so are technically foreign but they have been a part of the British rural scene for so long they have become native if not indigenous. I am looking for foreign cows so that I can make a page that says "All these foreign cows, coming over here, eating our grass .;.." daft I know but when Mr M suggested it I laughed out loud and he earned a point.
6. An Urban Street Scene. I thought this was a pretty street, sorry Road. We were going through Ledbury on our way to... oh who knows where we were heading, we didn't at that point, we were looking for the lovely sign that welcomes you to Ledbury but it was on "The Other Road".
2. A Garden Gnome. I have to say that he is more like a Pixie than a gnome and has the same expression on his face as I imagine would be on the faces of the Pixies that hide behind my fridge and sit on the wires, swinging their legs, waiting to make things in the fridge grow hairs and shrivel up. This is how I imagine a Karma Pixie would look ... oh what a handsome Pixie.
We stopped in a garden centre in a village called Staunton & Corse. It seems that everywhere we went to get a cuppa the apprentice was the one that served us. This has a different effect on Mr M than on me. I make sure I am clear about what I want and I am prepared to let them take their time and learn. This way the next time I go they will be efficient and up to speed. Mr M huffs, he leans on his walking stick and sighs, deep and meaningful sighs. The sort of sigh you don't want to hear when everything your boss said about the till has gone out of your head. I give him a look, no, I give him The Look and he raises his eyebrows and says "What?" as though he doesn't know why I am doing it. He knows. That was why I made him walk around the place to look for gnomes, as a penance for being a grump. He then took me to a place where they have a Gruffalo trail and I photographed him with a Gruffalo