Long ago in the early 1960s when little runs in the country meant going out for a drive in the car rather than being part of a fitness regime, Biscathorpe was for us a favourite destination for a picnic. Less popular and therefore less crowded that Hubbard's Hills in Louth, this is where two streams run through a meadow to join and become the river Bain - that same river which a few weeks ago and not many miles further on its journey to the sea burst its banks and flooded Horncastle. Here it is is a gentle dimpling brook which was once none-the-less the lifeblood of the village that stood here in the middle ages. In my childhood this site was reached down a farm track which has now become a metalled road but it still fords both streams, and the cattle still graze in the meadow making it an 'interesting' picnic place for the unwary. I am sure that I remember being told that there was a huge and forbidding house in this valley in my parents' childhood, but I have glanced through various books of local history as well as googling for Biscathorpe Hall, and can find no trace of it, so I may be mistaken. Now all that remains of the village is a small church which appears to belong to a period many years later than the demise of the village and a derelict cottage or small farmhouse. The present Biscathorpe House stands quite a bit away from the former village site.
Joel (not wanting to go to a rugby match with his father and brother) was spending the day with Jess, and - after a morning's riding and general horse stuff - they both came to me once Helen went to work. There wasn't enough day to take them any distance (nor enough money after the dentist on Wednesday and having my car serviced on Thursday) so we went to Biscathorpe for an hour or so and they played in the stream as children always have played in streams. It costs nothing, is healthy outdoor exercise, and is great fun.
Here they are . . .
Joe didn't deign to get his feet wet, but he did join in the fun otherwise. Joel made up for Joe's dry feet by getting his jeans soaked to well above the knees. When we walked up to look at the church he was wearing a large bath sheet sarong style over his boxers to the amusement of passing walkers, and even more so when later we passed some roadworks and it was he who jumped out of the car to move a safety barrier which (unsafely) had fallen over into the lane so that I could drive past it and on past the workmen who were in stitches at the sight of Joel in his 'skirt'. I have a little mercy, and did not take a photograph of him thus attired.
skip2468
A wonderful family experience. Congratulations.