Welcome whoever you are to A Pondering Beasel. I have been indoctrinated into the world of the blogger by my brother, the ever more ponderous Tideliar due to my increasing lethargy caused by being sat at home following back surgery. I won't bore you with the details, but suffice to say I still have several weeks before returning to work so I shall try to post as much as I can ponder over, which will invariably be a lot.
I have rather an insatiable appetite for the finer things in life, which generally cost more than I should spend, but as my father always says in his ever optimistic way, "There's no pockets in a shroud", therefore I shall have to swallow my pension as I get old. Anyway... having had a pretty turgid year so far what with discs not staying where they should in my spine and having a 13 year old son, I decided to treat my wife to a weekend away in Somerset. Following hours of trawling the interweb while my wife napped on the sofa one evening wailing with the dog at their combined night terrors. I came across Glencot House Hotel. Have a look at the link, it's one of those places you must visit before you die. After speaking to the very nice lady on reception when I phoned to book, she kindly offered me a four poster bed for the first night and then one of the more regular bedrooms for the second night as the four poster was already booked. She tried to convince me that this was the right thing to do to ensure my wife had the best time possible. I considered this and being the dutiful husband opted for the cheaper option of the normal double for the two nights. (I would like to add that the cheaper option was still £225.00 a night). The sound of dissapointment the receptionist produced in her "Oh, well, it's your decision" quite literally stripped me of my manhood and made me feel like I was taking my wife for a dirty weekend at a travel inn in Croydon. So not wishing to appear a pawper and bastard I caved in saying, "Well, it is a special occasion after all... we'll have the four poster." Whats nearly £300.00 a night between husband and wife?
The drive down was as eventful as my sat-nav makes most journeys, it's amazing how long she can make 100 miles last, and eventually we pulled into the hotel's driveway. This is the oddest place I have ever been. It's owned by the antiques bloke, Martin Miller of Miller's antiques guides if you're curious, and is full of stuff he's collected over the years. There are books piled up all over the place that you can take home if you've begun reading one during your stay. It's the kind of place where a suit of armour stands next to a stuffed peacock with a manequin holding an umbrella, that sort of thing. We got shown to our room by a very polite petite young lady and were asked if we would like our bags brought up to us. Very nice I thought and quite right too seeing how much it was costing me! We climbed the sweeping, ornate staircase, entered our room and were greeted by a massive, antique four poster bed and views over the river and manicured gardens. The young lady left us to it and we had a bit of a snoop. "Wow, you could sleep more than two in that bed!" My wife exclaimed. "Awesome" I replied "As long as they're female, I'm not going anywhere near another man's thing."
A few moments later there came a knock at the door, pulling my mind from the gutter and hoping the pervert's leer that had spread across my face had dissipated somewhat, I opened it to find the very petite and now very flustered young lady from reception. She stood there wheezing over our over stuffed suitcase trying to smile and insist it was "Quite alright" as I guiltily took it from her. I assumed these places had some sort of boy who does that kind of thing.
Anyway, over the weekend we discovered Millers Gin, which is the owner's own brand. It's distilled in Iceland or somesuch. If you take nothing from my ramblings, please take this. Treat yourself to a bottle of this gin, it's one of the finer things in life and at about £20.00 a bottle won't cause the massive dent in your credit card it cost me to discover it. Then again... it was worth every penny to cheer my wife up.