Service Game

(I'm miles behind in looking at blips and responding to your kind comments. New grandparent! Bear with me) 

The happy accident of a missed turning, a complex road network and Google maps. We found ourselves in a slightly mytical land of unlikely place names - the sort of names that would appear in a dry comic novel or a country house murder mystery: Barton-under-Needwood; Coton-in-the-Elms (no elms any more); No Man's Heath; we took a risk and drove through the magnetic field between Netherseal and Overseal

MrsM pointed with confidence to a gap in a hedge and said "café". She was obviously wrong: it was a tennis court. I started looking round for a turning point. "No, there is a café; the 'Courtside Café'" - pointing to a brick outhouse. She could tell I was dubious: "I can see tables, and people!" Indeed there were, and tea in pots, and warm scones and a welcoming smile, and a fine view of two tennis courts in the pelting rain, and ironic decor. On a grey Monday morning, on a narrow lane between these tiny villages, but not actually in any of them, this is indeed mythical beyond belief. Don't question your luck; don't question MrsM

There were signs around the area saying we were in the National Forest, something I was only dimly aware of. A charitable, not-for-profit company that has been planting trees and doing its best to stimulate regeneration in this post-mining, post-quarrying, marginal farming area on the borders of Leicestershire, Derbyshire and Staffordshire. The numbers on the web site are impressive: an area of 200 square miles; forest cover increased from 6% to 23% in 35 years; 9.5 million trees planted; 2,500 hectares of non-woodland habitat improvement; and lots of other positive figures. Most endearingly, it has called its visitor centre 'Conkers'

Is this part of an answer to my vague 'where do we go from here' questions yesterday? In the right places, with the right spirit and the right people, maybe it is. A touch of good humour is a good sign