By rights there should be nothing from underneath the Bodhi tree as we celebrate Buddha’s birthday today, but there's no rest for this bad boy.
For starters, never let it be said that Sandison children lead a cosseted or privileged existence. Last Saturday we went to look around Stowe, not at all cowed or deterred by newspaper reports the previous week of a boy having been stabbed at this exclusive public school by an irate fellow pupil with a knife stolen from woodwork class. As luck would have it Bob and I have just recently bought the most impressive stalking knife at the East Anglia Game show, but rather disappointingly my wife Sophie firmly stamped on my suggestion we take it on our visit to Stowe “to show the boys”. However the said knife was called upon the following day on what ranks as one of the more eccentric Sunday afternoon walks. Twiggie, Bob’s lurcher, happened upon a hare. It was a lovely day. We were in no particular rush. And finding ourselves in a nice secluded spot (a freshly dug and bone dry ditch), we lit a fire with the aid of a Bob’s army survival steel magnesium flint, butchered and then spit roasted the hare which was delicious though we shared it with Twiggie and our two miniature daschunds. I say “we”. To be strictly accurate I had relatively little to do with all of this, but it was my idea at least. Sometimes I am a bit worried about myself I have to admit.
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