And here I am at the Edinburgh gate, Terminal 5 at Heathrow.

The flight is full and starting to board according to bank account size!

The Edinburgh flight landed fine, vaguely only time and happily into good old Scottish drizzle.  I have just completed my ten mile hike away from the thriving shops, restaurants and bars of the airport to the far reaches of an outer galactic quadrant that is the home of Gates 26, 27 and 28.

Apparently the Shetland flight is leaving from the bottom of a locked filing cabinet stuck in a disused lavatory with a sign on the door saying “Beware of the Leopard”. (D. Adams)

It is no better at Aberdeen airport.  Shetland is considered the poor relation.  An embarrassing destination, really.  One we don’t or shouldn’t talk about.

And I’m home!

Total phew.  The sunset as Daisy drove me home was spectacular.  Everyone was pleased to see me, including BeAnne, Monster and the sheeple.  The house was clean and OH had cut his hair.

Night, night. xx

And so to Wokingham, our local market town, for some messages.

Wokingham means ‘Wocca’s people’s home’. Wocca was apparently a Saxon chieftain who may also have owned lands at Wokefield in Berkshire and Woking in Surrey (thank you Wikipedia).

Wokingham was named one of the top places for families to live in England, apparently, in a survey, once.

With a long history, Wokingham was raided by both sides in the Civil War but was most famous for its bull-baiting in the 17th century.  It was prohibited 200 years later, thankfully.

From my childhood, I mostly remember the Victorian town hall, the market, and traipsing endlessly around the shops with my mother.

The town now seems smaller than I remember but I like the old buildings, the architecture and the small independent shops struggling to stay alive. They too live with the constant threat of the big shops out of town luring their customers away.

We went to a superb local family run business in Wokingham town centre specialising in wool, fabric and haberdashery.

Well, you can imagine the fun we had getting ideas and looking for stuff for my films.

Tomorrow, I travel home to Shetland.

Today the rain has cleared and we are back with the beautiful Autumn days again so Mum and I went to have coffee with an old friend.

She lives at Swallowfield Park.

Built in 1689, and designed by architect William Talman, a student of Sir Christopher Wren, Swallowfield Park is the classic example of an English stately home.

We had a lovely time being shown around.  This is the front hall.

The horse statues are bronze replicas of the Chevaux de Marly by Guillaume Coustou the Elder in Paris.

We were shown a very well stocked and comfortable library.

There was even an “invisible” door.  Very Harry Potter!

The sitting room was perfect, complete with a good grand piano and ancestors.

These fire “dogs” are actually dragons and allegedly originally from Brighton Pavilion.  This may be myth rather than actual fact.

They are very special (and highly coveted by me, and my mother!)

The original front doorway was moved many years ago.

The view outside was complete with a pretty water feature.

Then along to the Servants’ Quarters.

Outside to a stunning brickwork stableblock.

The octagonal dovecote is from the mid-18^th century.

The gardens are carefully landscaped and were laid out around the house within the estate.

We walked along to the walled gardens complete with fruit trees.

Swallowfield Park is a beautiful house set in the quintessential English countryside.

A perfect Sunday morning.

It has been raining and getting steadily colder all day and, while Mum’s garden breathes a huge sigh of relief, we all stayed indoors looking at old family photos, which I found fascinating.

I managed to dig up the family tree that I have been working on for many years which made the photos even more interesting.   I could see both my daughters’, Daisy and Flossie, features in many of my relatives.

So these are my parents in 1959 just before their wedding.

Me and my mother. I have an elder sister. She wouldn’t thank me for plastering her baby photos all over t’net!

And lastly “Winston Churchill” as a baby (or probably me).

There has also been a bit more sheeple building today plus some landscaping and possible birds.  Even mum has been surprised by my creating abilities and, from her, that is a huge compliment.

Mum and I ventured out today.  We drove to a superb pick-your-own vegetable place that also has a farm shop.

I kept thinking that I should have been working at Turriefield this week as I measured ourselves a portion of carrots, spinach and sweet corn, all freshly picked.

Afterwards we went exploring to a local craft village and bought some supplies for my animation venture – mostly felt and glue and we have been making flowers all afternoon.

Before we went home, we dropped in at the next door garden centre where Christmas seems to have arrived.

I was quite shocked, to be honest. I mean it is only the beginning of October for crying out loud.

Having said that, it was quite an impressive display with some nice animated animals with no carols playing in the background, which was encouraging, though I did feel sorry for the dying fauns (I think they just weren’t plugged in).