The four seasons, by Land Rover
The sun is beating down in Mu Mu Land, bathing The Enchanted Village in bright light and glorious heat.
I drop off Number One Son at the railway station with a snowboard the length of the Panama Canal under his arm. Cruising home in the Freeloader, driving through country lanes to avoid the main road and its stationary cars, The Mamas and the Papas are singing 'It's gettin' bedder..' while I do accompanying yelling on harmonies.
A large Landrover Discovery approaches but doesn't appear to be slowing down. The driver seems to be an upper class twit in a flat cap.
We edge past each other in the narrowest part of the lane. We are just about to do synchronised growling through open windows when I realise it's Mr Champagne-Charlie.
'I didn't think you were going to stop,' he says.
'I didn't think you were either,' I say. 'I thought you were...'
Mrs Champagne-Charlie's voice pipes up from the passenger seat: 'An ass in a hat?'
Not only my next-door neighbour but telepathic too.
I drive on to the top of Loggins Lane, where the Love Shack used to be. The only thing left now is a solitary chimney and fireplace, a monolith surrounded by wasteland, with one of the best views in Dorset.
A 'proper', old-style Land Rover chugs up the hill. I come to a halt and as the driver passes, he waves like the Queen to thank me for stopping. It's Celebrity Farmer.
Around the corner, Nobby Odd-Job's Range Rover gleams as it stands in his driveway.
Four four by fours. Have a happy weekend.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x
I drop off Number One Son at the railway station with a snowboard the length of the Panama Canal under his arm. Cruising home in the Freeloader, driving through country lanes to avoid the main road and its stationary cars, The Mamas and the Papas are singing 'It's gettin' bedder..' while I do accompanying yelling on harmonies.
A large Landrover Discovery approaches but doesn't appear to be slowing down. The driver seems to be an upper class twit in a flat cap.
We edge past each other in the narrowest part of the lane. We are just about to do synchronised growling through open windows when I realise it's Mr Champagne-Charlie.
'I didn't think you were going to stop,' he says.
'I didn't think you were either,' I say. 'I thought you were...'
Mrs Champagne-Charlie's voice pipes up from the passenger seat: 'An ass in a hat?'
Not only my next-door neighbour but telepathic too.
I drive on to the top of Loggins Lane, where the Love Shack used to be. The only thing left now is a solitary chimney and fireplace, a monolith surrounded by wasteland, with one of the best views in Dorset.
A 'proper', old-style Land Rover chugs up the hill. I come to a halt and as the driver passes, he waves like the Queen to thank me for stopping. It's Celebrity Farmer.
Around the corner, Nobby Odd-Job's Range Rover gleams as it stands in his driveway.
Four four by fours. Have a happy weekend.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x
Does no one in the village drive a rusty old station wagon?.....a derelict VW Golf or a declasse Nissan? Elegant old vehicles with good bones and better lineage only, in your village!
ReplyDeleteHello,
ReplyDeleteWe had an old Land Rover in Cornwall. Geoff now thinks he's died and gone to heaven as he drives a long wheel based TD5 Defender every day when he's working in the summer time here, boys eh?