We took mum to her brother's one weekend. He lives in the village where they grew up; he moved back there about 40 years ago, after living in various other parts of the country for 25 years. Yes, if you're doing the maths, my uncle is quite old, though you wouldn't know it by looking at him. He still maintains his large garden (larger than the average large garden) and walks and climbs stiles - having had a new hip fitted last year (he was discharged after two days when he proved he was able to climb and descend stairs).

We had a walk round the beautiful village - all old cottages, colourful gardens, and narrow roads - and stopped to look at the house where mum was born and grew up. The current owners came out to see who we were (we probably looked a bit suspicious). When mum explained that she was born there they asked if we would like to come in and have a look round. Would a fish like to swim?

Now, cast your mind back 70 years. This would have been a typical-of-the-time rural cottage. One main room downstairs served as dining room, sitting room/lounge/living room (I can never remember what the correct term is) and kitchen - well, cooking anyway (in a range). There would have been a small scullery at the back of the house - no sink as there was no drainage. There was no mains water either - water came from the well, though my grandfather and uncles built a filtration system to collect rainwater. This was hand-pumped to a tank in the roof so they did have some running water - and a hot water tank above the range. Bathroom was in a lean-to at the rear with access from the garden, and toilet was a bucket. Originally one room upstairs, but my grandfather divided that into two, and converted the attic into a bedroom. Even so, very cramped for seven people. Later my grandfather bought the adjoining cottage and converted the houses into one over the next several years. There was no electricity. Lighting was by candle and oil lamp; the radio had an "accumulator" that had to be taken to a shop to be charged - something like a car battery, I imagine.

Anyway, 70 years on and the cottage has been converted to a very des-res. Insulation has been added to the walls; it has mains water and electricity; double-glazing; central heating; complete kitchen; indoor bathroom. The lean-to that had been my grandfather's workshop has been extended and converted into a sitting room/lounge/living room with uninterrupted views over the valley. Did I mention the beautiful view that you could sit and look at all day? They did have one problem that the builders seemed unable to solve. When they use the wood-burner something causes the stonework around the flue to stain. Mum and uncle pointed out that the flue went into the chimney that had originally been used by the kitchen range, so it was probably several generations of food residue that was melting and leeching into the stonework.

One of mum's NZ friends had lost touch with some friends of theirs in the UK. The last they heard was that they lived somewhere in south Gloucestershire - which is where mum's village is. Mum offered to see if she could find them and, after a bit of detective work, was successful. Turned out to be the same same village - a short walk from my uncle's. Small world!

Back in Hmpshire, we went to the New Forest's best kept secret where we saw a number of birds, including this jay.

Jays are elusive creatures, so we were lucky to see one so close and for it to stay still long enough for me to take some photos. OK, I've taught myself a trick. Take a video and pull still photos from the video. It's at times like this that I wonder whether I should invest in a DSLR camera, but then I get a shot like this and think that my camera isn't so bad.

CGF was listening to some High School Musical songs - it's her school production this year so she is trying to familiarise herself with the music. I remarked that none of the songs had a hook - there was nothing memorable about them. CGF's Sprog 2 put it more succinctly (and accurately): "they are rubbish".