Once upon a time there was a windmill. I may have mentioned it a time or two before.
And while I thought it was a lovely building, and a rather nice backdrop for photos, there are some people who are serious windmill fans. They maintain the windmill and more than that, once a year they open it up, build the wooden staircase under the arches, arrange for a really great ice cream van to come to play, and let fly the sails. Well, this weekend it was just two out of the four, but that was all that was needed to set the mill turning.
High up on the hill looking out over the top of the Cotswolds, the ditches and ramparts that show where a Roman fort once stood, and the silvery stream of traffic tootling up and down the M40, a monument to a slower pace of life and a beautiful and rather mesmerising sight as it slowly spun around.
And Kitty, excited possibly by the prospect of an ice cream as much as the changes since our last visit, ran up the path ahead of us, arms whirling.
And when you’re three, and still young enough to get away with it and only attract indulgent smiles, why wouldn’t you want to run across a hilltop pretending to be a windmill!
PS – She did get her ice cream (strawberry and cream). So did I (honey and stem ginger).
PPS – I really truly do feed my children food that isn’t ice cream I promise. In the interests of balance I shall now devote myself to finding a reason to photograph them tucking into a giant plate of carrots or singlehandedly working their way through a box of cherry tomatoes or something similarly nutritious.