Monthly Archives: October 2013


I have to confess that I am inordinately found of apple pie, served with cream or custard is of no consequence but with the addition of a good quality cheddar layered between slices of the delectable fruit transports it into a culinary inspiration.

I am certainly not the first and will not be the last to be inspired by this delightful fruit but if you are seeking an example you do not need to go any further than a trip to Woolsthorpe House,  Woolsthorpe-by-Colsterworth, Lincolnshire.

It lies to the west of the Great North Road, south of Grantham the birth place of  Margret Thatcher and to the south east of Melton Mowbary the home of the famous pork pie.

 Sir Isaac Newton was born in Woolsthorpe Manor House in 1642 which is now in the care of The National Trust. It was during the years of the plague between 1666-7 that he escaped from Cambridge to return to the manor house in Woolsthope and had his encounter with the pomaceous fruit of Malus domestica.

Sir I newtonpngBust of Sir Isaac Newton in the church of St John the Baptist Colsterworth

St John The BaptistSt John the Baptist Church Colsterworth Lincolnshire, Isaac Newton was baptised here in 1643 and both his parents are buried in the church.

SunDialpngInside St John the Baptist Colsterworth Lincolnshire if you look behind the organ you will find an engraving produced by a young Issac Newton.


“What wondrous life in this I lead!

Ripe apples drop about my head;

The luscious clusters of the vine

Upon my mouth do crush their wine;

The nectarine and curious peach

Into my hands themselves do reach;

Stumbling on melons, as I pass,

Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass.”

From Thoughts in a Garden By Andrew Marvell. 1621–1678

Web Links:

Woolsthorpe Manor, National Trust Web Site

The Element of Surprise, A Pair of Sturdy Boots and Winters on Leith Walk.

Life is full of surprises, when you think that the whole world has gone to Lucifer’s party someone will thank you for opening the door to allow them to enter the doctor’s surgery first, a car will give way to you as you try to cross the Zebra crossing or the supermarket shopper will give you the first pickings of the last remaining Greek yogurt on special offer.

But surprises do not come any larger than when your better half takes you shopping to select and purchase a pair of brand new walking boots in your size.

Now do not get me wrong, it is not that my wife is slow to shower me with gifts, the opposite is true, in all our married years and there are many I have been blest abundantly.

It is the nature and the timing of the item.

At my time of life and bearing in mind that autumn has now arrived (yes it can be applied metaphorically) surely it should be carpet slippers, a thermal vest or a new pair of woollen pyjamas not a pair of well shod hiking boots with a pedigree fit for the Cuillin Mountains.

Once the astonishment had diminished, I was left contemplating that there is a lot to be eternally grateful, for one the landscape of the fens in which we live is flat and inclines are limited both in nature and size, the winters in Cambridgeshire are never as severe as a December evening in Leith and last but not least my soul mate still thinks I am good for a few miles yet.


The River Great Ouse Cambridgeshire