Pooh Corner is in Heartfield which is about seventeen miles from where my parents live. So since Mini had been nagging for weeks to play Pooh sticks, always at dried up rivers, it was suggested that we played at the real bridge, the bridge that inspired A.A. Milne to write the story about Pooh Sticks in the first place.
It was suggested that we went to the Pooh Corner Shop to get a expedition certificate and map of the area, as it is easy to get lost. The lady at the shop was lovely, enthusiastic and very helpful.
The best advice, however, was to bring our own sticks. Just think about it, people come from round the globe to play at the site, thus their availability has been depleted. I had not even considered this, so thank you for the tip-off.
By the time we arrived it was just before lunch, so we decided to walk to the bridge then stop for a picnic.
It was a fair bimble for two pairs of rather short, peckish legs in the thirty odd centigrade temperatures, but they are Scottish, tough and eventually made it.
Even with the river rather dry it was beautiful, old and rickety and evocative of childhood memories.
So we played game, after game, after game. Mini and Maxi won seven games each, Grama won four and Mama one (borrowed from Maxi’s tally). It was so much fun to drop and then watch for your stick to emerge from under the bridge on the other side. It was even more fun to watch the glee on the boys faces as they rushed from one side of the bridge to the other.
Having almost used up all our stack of sticks, it was decided that food was in order. So we walked on to find somewhere to put our picnic blanket.
Just by chance the tree we chose to sit under had a wee surprise waiting for us.
As we placed the blanket on the ground, Mini spied a door.
A wee door, perfect for a piglet. So we sat down, munched our sandwiches and waited for his return.
It was decided that he was off adventuring with his best friend Winnie the Pooh and a particularly bouncy Tigger.