A Mixed Review

Today the sun came out at last. It wasn't warm, but O what a difference. We did the planned trip to Petersfield to hunt for Lego. I haven't been there for ages and Dear Follower Fiona said there was bound to be a swingpark by the lake, not that it was visible on Google Earth.

We parked up in a wooded glade just past the lake and walked back along the path that goes all round it. The lake has a sandy bottom and lots of geese and ducks and swans but not many seagulls because it's inland. There was a boardwalk for a while and the water rippled under it and made satisfactory gloiping noises between the slats. And then goodness me, was there a swingpark. The whole area would be good to take one of my friends to, like when Erin took me to the 100 acre wood. The swingpark has a baby area with mushrooms, tunnel, sand activity centre and swinglets. The far end was wooden climbing frame area, with monkey bars and assault nets. The middle section was large objects such as a long slide, roundabout, bouncing horse and swinging tyre.

As ever, he did the roundabout too fast and we lost a small girl to centrifugal forces beyond her comprehension. I managed all of the monkey bars, a first for me. The park is right on the shores of the lake and very picturesque with it: there is a boating pier and a cafe that does all sorts of proper food, PuddleParents would approve. At the end of the pier was a little boy feeding some tame geese with food from the cafe, and a shopping trolley visible in the water.

With promises of a return we headed off into town. It is an old town with old large houses and old money. The estate agent's window we looked at had properties ranging from 600k to 1.7M, very nicely thank you. They have gardens. Unlike downtown Pompey, they never had the acreage pressures like our island kingdom, so if you wanted half an acre and 2 garages, you got it. The middle bit has lots of coffee shops and a market and some clearly Tudor/Elizabethan buildings, one of which is now an Indian restaurant.

The bus stop had blood. Lots of it. The police car parked nearby was a focus for some serious-looking chaps discussing the blood. We crossed over and hit the first of 6 charity shops. It was rubbish. Such shops rely on the locals for their stock and it seems that there are no children in Petersfield, for the kid's section was rudimentary at best. If I'd wanted Meccano or Transformers I would have been OK but there you go. He bought a bath fizzer and a fruit bowl.

Having seen the train station (no trains today) we headed back, despondently, but still following the trail of blood spots that the stabbèd man had left behind him on his long inefficient wandering escape from the Bus Stop Assailants. We surmised he must have been a punctured postman, for he seemed to have gone everywhere.

Then we passed a real actual specialist local toyshop, and there was Lego Star Wars material in the window. I could see it. The cheapest item was £12 and he didn't even go in. I huffed and puffed and scuffed my feet for half a mile until the promised re-park and I climbed and swung and so forth. He was guilty so acceded to my demand for an ice cream. The Cafe/hut thing ("The Plump Duck" - rather like the Fat Duck in Bray) sold me a tub of chocolate heaven. 'Meadow Cottage' or similar is a local producer from Bordon and **** me, it was good. Very strong flavour, top quality home-made style and well worth the £1.75 of guilt extracted from the non-Lego-buying man. All in all, Petersfield is great for a visit with an ace park but I wouldn't want to have to buy Lego there.

In the afternoon he tried again and despite looking in another 8 shops, came back with only an England hat, because I had said I needed another cap. It was still sunny so we hit the seafront, threw rocks, made a sea wall (my latest craze) and wasted some money in the arcade of flashing lights. My feet are tired.

Hobbit Corner - Memories of yesteryear, from people living in the past
1. The Pile of Tights.  One of Jof's favourites, this stems from our freaky forebears' mindset of reusing/repairing anything. A decent attitude: depends how far you take it. Jof saw a pile of tights and cooking aprons in the sewing room (yes, they had so many rooms, one was dedicated to sewing) and asked why. "They're waiting to be darned" was the answer. Well darn me, I didn't know you could feasibly repair tights, or why you'd want to given their retail price. Ditto the kitchen aprons, given that you have a drawer full of unused ones in the kitchen, still in their original plastic bags. I guess if you have no money and will live for a further 500 years, these things could be important, shame neither apply to the Hobbits.