Then to The Angel Inn, where a garden table awaited us. It was pretty warm. What's this, table 70? What a coincidence!
We ordered what we wanted, and got some fizzy to drink. Then Jackie revealed that she'd brought along some Birthday Envelopes and a Mysterious Package.
Inside, encased in pink tissue, was a beautifully wrapped little box. I loved the fan-like embellishment! It was almost too nice to take apart. But needs must...
Aha. The sapphire ring that Rebecca Smith had made for me. I slipped it on. Perfecto! Oh, thanks, girls! (They had each contributed towards some of the cost, including Sue, who couldn't make it on the day) I kept looking at it on my hand.
So glad I hadn't chosen a dark blue sapphire. The light blue of this one caught the ambient light and changed its colour accordingly, varying from ice blue to slightly mauve, with other colours mixed in too, if they were nearby and strong. The 9 carat white gold went excellently with my silver jewellery, having only a pale straw tint to the metal, which I rather took to.
Our starters arrived. I was having soup. For my main, pork with pasta, pak choi and broccoli.
LXV handles these food shots very well. The large depth of field means that I can take oblique shots too, with everything still in focus. I'm scornful of the current obsession with big apertures and a shallow depth of field, meaning that much of the picture is irritatingly out of focus. It just doesn't suit how I want to capture most subjects. I want clarity, and I want context. I've a use for a pleasantly indistinct background only when shooting close-ups of flowers and similar.
We'd polished off the prosecco. We were now onto rosé wine. Cheers! (Yet again!)
I was being treated to this lunch as part of the birthday, so while the bill was being settled, I made myself scarce in the loo. I hoped there were no obvious signs of my recent super-indulgence in food and drink. I'd front-loaded the booze: the rest of the day would be tea or coffee only.
Next, we had a wander round Petworth's upmarket shops, making mainly for the antique shops. Very interesting to inspect the things on offer. Some were very affordable. All of us were on the lookout for items that would look good on us (if jewellery) or in the home. I hankered after a painting. In the largest shop, the Petworth Antiques Centre, I saw this picture - a good portrait of a self-aware girl of fashion:
The price was hidden by that silver salver. On tip-toe, I saw that the ticket said £695. What a pity. This was beyond my current budget. I've spent more than £695 on paintings in the past, and will do so again in the future, but in mid-2022 this would deplete my already-hammered cash reserves too much. With a sigh I passed it over. I thought of consoling myself with one of these Ward Lock Red Guides from the 1930s:
I even considered this beastie, to go with my other figurines (no, I'm not really being serious!):
On the way to another antiques shop, we passed this very old and entwined wisteria. Actually, positively knotted. Another photo-opportunity!
Another shop. It had some globes (another item I wanted for my home, though these weren't big enough):
But my eye was caught by a section full of children's books, with a special emphasis on Enid Blyton.
I often claim that I went straight from Beatrix Potter to Ian Fleming and his James Bond books, because (a) I couldn't renounce Beatrix Potter's entrancing books at the proper age and move on, and (b) I found Dad's Bond books fascinating reading, with their action (exciting), and all the sophistication (nice meals, clothes, cars, cards, foreign travel and danger), and (let's face it) sexual encounters. But in between I also had a long gallop with Enid Blyton. I owned only one of her books (Shadow the Sheepdog), but I voraciously read many more from the local library. It was all about the characters, the situations they got into, and the happy endings.
I'd spotted The Castle of Adventure, an early one in her 'Adventure' series. Sure enough, there was the old gang of half-childish, half-adult schoolchildren on holiday, complete with parrot, a similar mix to the 'Famous Five' series, but subtly different. Enid Blyton was careful to create in her various series of books a pantheon of kids of every type - or at least, of every middle-class type - so that her likely readership could identify with one or other character. I was of course middle-class, and even though I hated school, the world these rather daring children inhabited wasn't on another planet. I could easily tag along. James Bond was a tough, grown-up man; it was much harder to fit myself into his shoes. Like me, he was rather a lone operator, even though at ease in any company. He was knowledgeable and had so many skills. Yet vulnerable, if he allowed himself to be. I thrilled to what he got up to, whom he met, and how he succeeded against the odds. I hated the hurts and tortures he suffered, though. Thankfully, there was none of that in Enid Blyton's books.
In the 'Famous Five' series, I particularly liked tomboy Georgina - or George as she insisted - even though I wasn't one bit like her. I'd been (in my own view) a failed child, and had become an introspective, unconfident teenager, ever unhappier about myself, wishing I could be someone else. She would have scorned me. I'd have felt the oldest of the Famous Five, Julian, more of a soulmate. He was clever, but inclined to be too cautious and sensible, and a drag on having fun. A good foil for George.
Anyway, here I was, fingering through the pages. I could remember the parrot Kiki, but had quite forgotten that one of the girls was called Lucy-Ann. Almost my namesake! A sign! I must buy it, and find out what I thought about the book sixty years on. So I did.
There were other books there too. Gosh, Heidi.
And adventure books for boys, presumably teenage boys who may have started work, on topics as diverse as boxing...
Whaling...
And muscular sword-wielding Scottish history...
An annual from 1955. I suppose not exclusively intended for boys - girls might want to read this too, especially as the stories within were derived from the Big Screen, still pre-eminent when most homes didn't yet have television. It all looks fantastically tame stuff now, in our world of blockbuster CGI-ridden movies, all mind-blowing spectacle. Don't get me wrong: I enjoy eye-popping films as much as anybody. But I may want to see them only once. Not many have staying-power. And all of it is fantasy, in its way undermining the vital need to distinguish real life and real issues from dreams.
We now went in search of tea and cake. It seemed however that despite the sun shining strongly, and people about, Petworth had collectively decided to close up at 4.00pm. We eventually found what we needed at a place called Cherry's. We sat outside, pooling the cakes we'd bought.
Yum! Then into Fiona and back home. Having said goodbye to my friends, I found a delivery awaiting me. A parcel from Hilary and Don! (Hilary is a Dommett and a very distant cousin of mine, on my Dad's side) How nice of them!
Then a late-afternoon knock on my front door. Another delivery! This time flowers - orchids? - from my cousin Rosemary. Stunning.
They joined the flowers Waitrose had already given me. What lovely birthday treats!
And I could now contemplate the sapphire ring without time limit. I intended to wear it always and forever, to mark a fresh phase of my life - then undefined, but now taking clearer shape. I got out my little Leica D-Lux 4 and took these macro shots.
A lasting momento of a day I want to remember.
And now it's three weeks later. How the time slips by!