We met almost twenty years ago, both escaping babies and nappies in the only way it was available to us: online . We both had a blog, we talked about knitting and sewing, we ‘crafted’, baked thousands of cupcakes, strung buntings and learnt how to sew pouches with invisible zippers. All this while holding tight to some idea of selfhood that risked sinking into oblivion between feeds and deadly boring playgrounds visits. We eventually met in real life, in yarn stores and quilt exhibitions, and as time rolled on these morphed into shopping afternoon and book store browsing and garden centres. Twenty years. She discovered tennis, and I did another degree and took up walking and a new dog. Our children have grown up and have semi-left home. Yet, still meet once or twice a year, because real friends are like that, now we be-moan our aging bodies, we swap our boys’ stories and elderly parents mishaps, and we still laugh.

And we walk.

The Oxfordshire village of Finstock was our meeting point last week. A typical Cotswold village, attractive stone cottages along the main road that descends softly down to the welcoming village pub, The Plough Inn. TS Eliot was baptised in the local church and Barbara Pym spend here the last eight years of her life. Quite the literary connections for such a small place! Also, more prosaically in the local church you can find the rather grand mausoleum of the millionaire founder of the Dunlop PneumaticTyre Co, Harvey du Cros.

Murphy came too and while we stomped gingerly along muddy paths and fields he happily ran and frolicked in puddles.

The grass was beginning to grow green but it felt like it was losing its battle and perhaps we were returning to short Autumn days. So much water everywhere, moss, boggy fields, marshy pastures.

It felt like a small childish adventure and we put the world to right and gulped fresh air and tried in vain to keep our feet wet.

We walked through the remnants of the ancient Wychwood Forest, a few weeks ago it would have been carpeted in snowdrops.

And at the end a delicious pub lunch and a promise to do it again soon.

Best of days.