Our Stay in Thaxted

In 1969, my father, a MSGT in the USAF, was stationed at RAF Wethersfield. While waiting for base housing, we rented a beautifully situated place named Barn Cottage, a 600-year-old converted stable. Our landlord, Mr. Ainsworth, lived above us with his charming family in Prior's Hall. The place commanded a magnificent view of the valley and town, and we watched the farmers bring in their crops and burn the fields afterwards. I sometimes took our small dachshund for walks up the hill behind us, to watch water rats swim about in a pond at the top. Those times I remember as singularly idyllic. Our landlord had a peacock named George, which we would call down from the trees to feed him cookies. Sometimes he came asking on his own, sitting on the brick wall outside our kitchen. George was in love with a bantam hen. He followed her around, fluffing his feathers for her benefit, and when she laid a clutch of eggs in our garden, we thought something unusual might be in the offing. (They did not hatch.) I always remember these times with great fondness, and hope to return one day.