I've been wanting to put something up about Calke Abbey for a while now. The estate is just a couple of miles away from our home in Melbourne. This proximity, combined with easy access because of our National Trust membership, means that we've been there many times. We've gradually accumulated enough photos to have something blog-able.
There's a herd of deer living on the grounds of the estate. Evidently they are very cost-effective lawn mowers.
They also double as excellent topics of attention for squirly girls whose father needs to get out of the house for a while.
The grounds also have a decent number of sheep (as do pretty much any green spaces in Derbyshire). Evidently the lambing season at Calke Abbey has been an attraction for quite a while. Several of the herds were recently sold to a private farmer, but there were enough for Kristine to take the girls earlier this year.
The proximity of Calke to Melbourne and Derby makes it a good place to meet for play dates. This was during Easter break when we met up with some friends from St. Giles church in Normanton.
The Oldfields (whom we visited in Swindon at Easter) came to visit us for this past weekend. We spent a good bit of the afternoon on the grounds with a picnic lunch and ambling walk around part of the estate. Here's the route from RunKeeper.
Typical of England's schizophrenic weather, the previous week had switched back and forth between sun and rain. The skies were clear and sunny enough when we left the house that Kristine asked the girls to bring along sun hats. Elise and Charis took advantage of the chance to model the pouting poses they learned from the Gorgeous Georgians at Warwick Castle.
The normal first photo from any walk is of the three girls running off ahead. That didn't happen this time. Clare decided she wanted to start the walk riding on Kristine's back. Elise and Charis were otherwise occupied chatting with the Oldfields. The walk started across the field in about the middle of the trees below.
We stopped to get a shot of the girls on a fallen tree. This is what happens when you tell your children to frown on 3, and one of them takes you seriously.
The girls got some hero poses in on the same tree.
They found a standing tree with a hollow trunk that all of them could fit inside.
A couple younger folks (ahem, Clare ...) started running out of steam shortly before the 1 mile mark into the hike. John graciously treated us to ice cream. As it turns out, ice cream is one of the foods that our US-trained taste buds have struggled to adapt to what's available in the UK. The ice cream we ate here, which came from a local dairy farm, got high marks from all of us.
Early in the hike we had an unfortunate encounter between Clare and some stinging nettles. John pointed out the duckweed antidote that usually grows near nettles. Charis decided to preempt a potential nettles encounter by carrying this particular (large) leaf with her for the last half of the walk.
By the last half of the hike, Carol and Elise were ahead of the rest of us, cheerfully singing (songs that I couldn't hear because I was bringing up the rear with a certain 3 yr old on my shoulders). I caught up with them here because they went exploring on a path that made them turn around.
We came up to this stone wall near the end of the hike. I counted nine girls milling around the wall, and one man trying to line them up for a photo. The girls were all Elise's age or younger. I watched him with a mixture of admiration for taking that many young children out for a walk alone, and relief that it was him instead of me. As the girls ran away from the wall and into the forest, I heard him utter the magic words to get them (mostly) under control: "Girls, let's go back to the cars so we can have a snack." This was followed by shrieks of "Snacks!" and a stampede across the field. The man's head is visible just above Elise's left foot. The girls he was corralling are all in front of him along the path.
We got a picture of the girls on the same wall. Clare's expression brings to mind a recent conversation I had with a neighbor on our street as I walked with the girls to the post office.
Friendly neighbor (to Clare): You're a mischievous one! I can tell in your face.
Looks at me: She's the troublemaker of the three, isn't she?
Me (smiling): That's right.
We made our way out of the woods and back across the field to the cars.
Nothing tops off a hard day's walk (or, in Clare's case, ride on parental backs and shoulders), than a refreshing swig of water out of a Marmite themed cycling bottle. More on Marmite and its role in our move to the UK is here.
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