Wordsley, Stourbridge, England: 10 degrees, sunny, slightly grey and overcast.
It is Saturday, the weekend and time to go out with my beautiful, little, perfect woman. She picked me up at about 10:30, and we went to Kinver Edge for the second time with her dog, Austin. The man!
We parked the car at the Edge and walked for about an hour around the hills, fields, and the open area. It’s truly beautiful, and it evokes many memories from my childhood. Instead of driving down into the town centre, we left the car at the Edge car park and walked on foot.
It was a short half-hour walk down to the main High Street, which is now a kind of boutique village with its beautiful, tiny, quaint, and sometimes quirky shops; the pavements are perfectly organised and clean. It was clear to me that you could smell the fragrance of money in the air all around.
The sun is shining, and it is warm, though not hot, but it is still a rare treat for England. On the way down to the High Street, we met a woman who had a greyhound, a whippet, and a gargoyle—essentially all the racing breeds of dogs.
We discussed the pros and cons of owning these types of dogs for more than 15 minutes. Inevitably, any dog owner will shout and sing the praises of their kind and breed of dog, but what is happening with me is that this movement for adopting a greyhound is growing, and it is perfect for us.
Its size, posture and general temperament are perfect principally for my mother and me.
We said goodbye to the lady and entered the High Street, taking in the nice boutique shops with exclusive brands and souvenirs on offer. We visited an interesting coffee shop that was once an old, small Tudor-style house converted into a business premises, like so many on the High Street. There was a sign telling us to wait at the entrance. We waited, and after 10 minutes, one of the very young assistants attended to us, only to find out there wouldn’t be a table for at least forty minutes.
What really caught my attention was that everyone working in the café was very young; the oldest would be in their early 20s at most. I’m not sure whether it was a family business, a cooperative, or just exploitative labour.
We decided it was not realistic to wait forty minutes, especially with Austin, so we continued walking down the main High Street. There was a discreet entrance to an open, outdoor shopping arcade. Julie was going to walk on, but I said, “Let’s go and take a look.”
We entered and, hidden at the back of the alley, were many charming little boutique shops and stalls, along with tables and chairs for people to sit, eat, and drink outside. A circus tent tarpaulin provided additional cover for people. Next to the circus tarpaulin area was a discreet café, with an entrance that was not immediately obvious; only by entering could we truly understand its proposal. Opening the door and walking down into the sunken cafe, there were lots of tables and chairs, most of them reserved.
We were seated at a large table with benches that could accommodate six to eight people, which made us feel uncomfortable since it was only for us. When a couple left a smaller table with benches for four, we quickly moved to that spot, thinking it was better to sit there instead of at the oversized table, allowing others, a larger party, the chance to use the larger one.
We asked if it was dog-friendly, and they said it was. We ordered a kind of sandwich meal that was very nice. Everything was great here: the people, the food, the service, and so on. It was clear that we had found a hidden gem in Kinver. The owners were extremely hospitable and dedicated to their craft. We left, promising them that we would return very soon.
Continuing our walk along the High Street, we entered one shop or another, but there was nothing particularly interesting or special to buy. On the way back, we thought about returning to the first cafe we had tried to enter, but it was full. This time, when we arrived, it wasn’t so busy; the rush hour had passed.
We decided to give it a try and went out to the back of the café and into the garden. At the end of the garden, a small glass greenhouse stood, resembling something from Alice in Wonderland, complete with a round garden table and chairs inside. It felt surreal, especially with the wind blowing while the sun was still shining. Julie was concerned that the glasshouse might blow over, but it appeared to be securely anchored in the ground.
Julie went to the counter in the cafe to place our order. She ordered two cappuccinos and a cake for us to share. The cake was delicious, but the cappuccinos were weak, which was a bit disappointing. When you’re dating a barista, you begin to develop a discerning palate for coffee, allowing you to easily distinguish between a good and a bad cup of coffee, whether it’s hot or cold, etc.
It is amusing how we tried to go here before, but due to the wait, we moved on and opted for the second option, which turned out to be much better than we had expected. It goes to say that not always something that we wanted but could not have is bad.
Sometimes, the universe conspires in our favour; all we have to do is let the universe either show us or take us, but not to force or insist. We must be open-minded enough to accept the disappointments and deceptions that life brings us and know how to move forward and on.
Moving on is the key to a fulfilled life!
We got back to the car, and in twenty minutes, Julie dropped me off at home. She picked me up again at 8:00 p.m., and we headed to The Six Ashes pub, about six miles away in the heart of the English countryside. When I was younger, around forty or fifty years ago, it was one of the most important and popular country pubs in the region.
Now, however, it looked a bit rundown and neglected. It was a cold, rainy night, and we rushed into the pub to escape the weather. Inside, we found a table with people gathered around it, while all the other tables and chairs were completely vacant.
In an annexe of the lounge, we found two large old leather sofas, probably older than us, put together, and we stayed the whole night there in a cold, rundown pub, laughing and joking in our own private company with the rain lashing outside. It was so good.
On the way back, we stopped off at our personal car park for some smooching, and Julie finally dropped me off at home. What a day, and how good it was to spend some quality time with my beautiful, little, perfect woman and The Man-Austin.
In bed by 2:00 p.m. after raiding the fridge.
Thank you.
Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.
Richard
