My First Watch of War Horse

I’m going to go right out there and say it. I cried. Bawled like a baby. Sad bits and happy bits. The whole film. About a horse. That’s right, I cried over a horse. Now I am not a horse person. Don’t get me wrong, I love animals and horses are beautiful . But also a little scary, with their giant mouths containing giant teeth. Not to mention their hooves that can crush you on one stomp (small exaggeration there). Alas, I cried over a horse.
I don’t how familiar you are with the popular Michael Morpurgo story of War Horse, but in summary it is about a horse in the war. I was drawn in with each mini story as the horse encountered different people and their own struggles during WWI.  You get rather emotionally attached. Spielberg really know how to pull on your heart strings. The horses were the best actors in the film by far. I’m not saying the other actors were bad, they were brilliant. However, I think that just emphasizes how good these horses were. How do you train a horse to lift its head in a certain way on command? Absolutely incredible. Yet, they weren’t even mentioned in the credits! My Dad and I watched the credits twice. Yes, twice. That’s a lot of names across a black screen. Not a word of who played the beloved war horse, Joey, anywhere. I felt a little bit of anger rise up at this point. That horse deserved an Oscar! Ok, exaggerating again, but that horse deserved more credit as the main character than German Soldier # 3.
I would like to say here, thank you to the horse that played Joey. You were amazing and I would love to see your next film. I now see horses in a new light. And will try to love them more.

My First Meal at the Red Lion in Redbourne

The Red Lion is a restaurant pub in the North Lincolnshire village of Redbourne. I was expecting good things as my sister and her fiancé go there regularly for a meal out, and she had requested it for her family birthday meal. So off we went. It looked good. Standard cute English pub. We walked in and it looked busy which I like because it means it’s popular, so must have good food and service.
The waitress that took our order was friendly, bubbly and generally loveable. However, she failed to tell us we would have to wait half an hour for our food, which we had tried to avoid by not ordered a particular dish that took a minimum of 30 minutes to cook. Having said that, it gave us time for conversation and a catch up. My stomach growls just interrupted us a lot. Then the food came. This was when I realised I had made a mistake that I had not ordered last. When I go out for a meal with a large group, I tend to ask around the table to see what everyone else is having and base my decision off that. The reason being I get terrible food envy if someone else’s food looks better than mine. My sister’s fiancé ordered a chicken tikka masala, which came with enough rice, chips AND naan bread to feed an army. I got handed a plate with a pork belly slice with a bit of BBQ sauce and cheese on top. My mum had the same. My older sister had a plateful of gammon, egg and salad. My younger sister had a giant burger and mountain of chips. My dad had a bit of fish with some rubbery prawns on top. The waitress that brought the food seemed to have a scowl painted on her face (not the same woman from earlier). She thrust some bowls of chips and salad on the table (presumably for some of us to share, as she hadn’t told us protocol), then told us to enjoy our meal. I yelled after her that my dad was supposed to have new potatoes with his meal, at which she looked confused then said she’d go get some. She came back with 5 half potatoes in a bowl. No dressing or herbs, no nothing. No one came to check if our meal was ok, and thank god as I would have complained. The food wasn’t bad, just inconsistent. It was better than I’d cook for myself that’s for sure, but I expect better service in a restaurant. Maybe I’d set my expectations to high for the little place. The food was yummy, the service was not tipped. I think it is lovely for a drink with its beer garden and cosy atmosphere inside. But for a meal, I think I’d rather go to Nandos.

My First Trip to Doddington Hall

Doddington Hall is a country house on the outskirts of Lincoln, in Lincolnshire (my hometown). I have often heard it’s name but had never ventured there so I thought now was a good time to investigate. Despite being an occupied family home, they are kind enough to open up this historic estate to the public. However… my boyfriend and I failed to look at the opening times or days. It turns out it is only open on Wednesdays and Sundays and Bank holidays, so Tuesday 6th August was a bad day for this first visit. Fortunately, there was a walled garden open. This contained vegetable plots as it was located nearest the kitchen, rather handy when you want some fresh runner beans. From here, we could easily see the grandeur of the house. I couldn’t help kicking myself for not checking opening times earlier. It was a beautiful and I would like to return to see the interior. One reason being that I quite enjoy history, another being I love being nosy looking around rich people’s houses. A bit of a disappointing trip to be honest, but that was due to my incompetency not because Doddington Hall lacked character and intrigue. I shall return!