Taking in the grounds

My friend the Historian, the Historian’s mother, and I took in the grand grounds of Blenheim Palace on Sunday. Although Blenheim has been mentioned several times before in this fair blog, this was my first visit. The view as we rounded the entry gate was just stunning.

And yes, a certain Mr Darcy in flowing white shirt diving into ponds came to our three female minds.

We hopped through a short exhibit about poor 8-year-old Winston Churchill’s lonesome upbringing, with far too many heartbreaking letters to “dearest Papa” to “please consider coming to visit as it would so cheer me, although I’m sure you have too many meetings in Parliament to keep you occupied”.

These two icons of fashion put me to shame, but on the other hand I was proud to have taken in the grounds with them on each side of me.

Plus, there was a good deal of puppy talk, which is a bonus these days when I have my heart set on (not being allergic to) these little guys:

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