Communication - the selection of an appropriate word with the ability to articulate it / them with tone and timing. I have spent a considerable portion of my time honing this craft and still have many frustrations as the depth of words and use thereof in my toolbox is indeed of an uneducated yet now more worldly wordsmith. This forms the basis of the blog exercise.

So what did we do today - sometimes a break from the bright lights can be just as good as the knock out tick in the box experiences . Being made feel welcome in an unequivocal manner does indeed form a sound foundation. Up at each individual's own alarm clock, the breaking of the fast also up to you. For me a meander around the grounds, after all three and a half acres does take some approving, yes handed down through the Lucas generations.

Late morning we join forces to make the trek to the Peterley Farm, through the front garden and secret wood path, cross the road and we are there. They have just added another arm to the farm by adding a yurt, some shabby chic accompaniments - wallah you have the Wild Strawberry Cafe. Before tea leaf tea and cake we have to work for it so out into the farm we go, raspberries, strawberries, peas and my Everest in veg, broad beans all picked and maybe just a tad of tasting done we then inspect the yurt and the cafe set up. Naturally some consultancy work needs to be undertaken but don't overthink it as it is running red hot. M-L, I think, starting to board the bus .

We then march off through the fields to one of the local pubs, it is where they held the beer festival without us, the Full Moon. Back to watch the Aussie new kid on the block, knock out Raffa, mother rang to say she was just going to bed at 4.10 am after watching the tennis match, she must have her times wrong as it was only 6.10 pm. It went to message bank as the girls were out at the safari hut boozing on French champagne, Deb said it was to ensure that the fire in the pizza oven was going right to plan.

Funny: Deb was sworn to secrecy by the Don but it only lasted from the back door to the safari hut as good tales need to be shared. The Don, as we all no is a real sleuth, able to smell out a dead rat at fifty paces, he is the one that John assigned map duty to on his departure, one to guide us all round Europe.

We needed some semolina for the pizzas and as he was going back to the house was asked to bring some on his return . Now D & K do have a back garden larger than most but should it take more than 20 minutes for said chore? It was questioned if he knew which room in the house said item would be located, maybe that was the problem. No, it turns out that he became disorientated going to the back door, took a wrong turn and ended up in the neighbours kitchen, as they were not around, upon looking to find the required article sensed maybe not sure of the features around him, lucky Clare who had earlier been partaking with the girls fluid intake helped him, suggesting that perhaps he should use Debs kitchen rather than hers! He is the person that you must have when lost and looking for definitive direction - when the Don says go north you know the right direction is definitively south.

Not that I am picking on the Don but feature articles just seem to jump out right out at you. A person makes a pizza and then we eat it before the next one is placed into the oven etc etc. it's the Dons turn to make a pizza, normally you shove the pizza paddle under the pizza and then slide it off into the pizza oven, no not the Don, he slides the paddle through the pizza and it ends up all over the ground! Take two for the Don.

Play old records and wine away, Maddie convinces Kathy that they should bunker down in the safari hut for the night so the pot belly is lit in the bedroom, hot water bottles filled and we leave them to a pommie summers night in the great outdoors.