Playing in Time

( Still old post here, i.e. last May. For the record, I'm doing very well here. I got to bed at 4am this morning. happy New Year, everybody! )  Ok, so here's the thing. I'd imagined that the garden would be very old-fashioned, but even I was not prepared for it's level of ancient-ness. I got beyond the trees and saw the house up ahead for the first time. Creepy, to say the least. It's a massive old Victorian thing, with lots of windows. A lot of them have been smashed or the glass has fallen in somehow. They're like eyes - some blind, some seem to be watching. I'm creeped out - I said I'd go in, but I can't bring myself to do it, not yet. But I did get beyond the trees and near enough to see what the garden is like. So here, close to the house is an expanse of lawn and, further up, to the side, a drive. Behind that I can see trees - enough to be a small wood, I think. But the biggest thing is that on the right-hand side, before the drive, there a

[ Carrying on from yesterday. This is still the backstuff from May ] In front of me was the same cluster of trees that I had always seen from my window, but far closer now. They were apple trees, I knew, which meant that they had once been an orchard. Beyond them lay a prickly tangle – once, I guessed, vegetables had grown there, now I saw, when I got close up, that they were raspberry and what I guessed were gooseberry bushes. I spend a few minutes picking the raspberries and trying gooseberries for the first time – they had an interesting taste and a sort of furry texture but for the record for anybody who is reading this – I wouldn’t recommend them raw. They’re pretty sour. I’m going to find a time to cook them and I’ll let you know how that works out. The point to get onto from here, basically, is that I’ve decided to go in the house. Tomorrow. I’ll let you know how that goes.

I'm adding these first posts, even though they were written last May and a lot has happened since then (that's an understatement, actually). Think it will give you all some context. Sorry in advance if this is all a bit useless, but basically, I'm still pretty much reeling .... Ok. here goes. Here's some backstory ... I live in an avenue of little narrow houses, and the wall runs at the end of all our gardens. The big garden that runs behind the wall  is the length of all our gardens put together.  It's also deserted, and has been, clearly, for a long time.  When I was little, I used to think that it ran on practically for ever, and if I went in it I'd be able to go for miles and miles. I imagined that it the bit just out of sight of my bedroom window would keep going round a corner and then I'd come to another lawn, with old stone steps leading down to yet  another  lawn, with crumbling fountains and statues and perhaps a sundial