My friend told me the other week that when it comes to calculating how manys years such and such happened you must always remember to add one to your estimation because we all seem to have mental blockage about 2020. Now for some 2020 was, for many reason not just Covid, simply the worst year of their life. Fortunately, for most of us 2020 was a year to forget- hence the need to add a year.
So how has 2021 been for me? I find I am having difficulty thinking about the year at all. Some things have returned to a strange normalcy but yet very different. I know I have changed – much more cautious, much more likely to prefer the comfort of home to going out. This, of course, could be also part of the aging process, which I have to admit is starting to creep up on me. Every day my joints complain just a little bit more and the mirror shows that I am losing the fight with gravity. One of the greatest conceits that the young hold is that they will never get hold nor will they ever die. One may be correct but in the end we all die. Whether any part of our life lives on beyond those who knew us on a daily basis is not in our control.
This brings us to Kedleston Hall. When the grounds were laid out in the middle of the 18th century the then owner of the house would never have seen it as we now enjoy it today. He might have an idea and Robert Adams plans and descriptions but that is all. No doubt by the time he died it would have matured but the plan was for generations to come. As a member of those future generation I would like to thank them for their foresight: It is a wonderful place to visit at any time of the year and I find it especially good at lifting the morale when the grind of life is just a little too much to bare. We all have those days/weeks/months and the unfettered air of Derbyshire helps me purge the heavy metals of life away for just a while.