The house the children built




Staving off complete lunacy, we wrapped up the most essential jobs this afternoon, shut the door on the world of work despite its knocking, and headed inland. We stopped at Kotuku School, where an enlightened teacher in the 1930s helpd the (primary school) children to build their own miniature house. More details here, as once again I forgot the camera. The building, and a little museum of photographs and maps beside it, survives.

If you get the opportunity to visit Kotuku School one Sunday afternoon, Mr O'Brien will no doubt be as obliging as he was once again to us. Whereas we carried Brighid in our arms last time, this time she headed off down the paddock to feed the horses a carrot. If the historic places in your patch of countryside don't also offer carrots-to-horse feeding, then I expect you will feel bereft. You could try moving to the West Coast, especially if you like rain.



Then, for dinner, we went to the Station House Cafe which has a view of this:
Tonight was misty and didn't look so much like this crisp image which is from some website publicity for the area, but it was gorgeous nonetheless. The imminent birthday of the cook prompted all of this and it was very wonderful.

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