"Let's go fly a kite"

On many a wet day at Chateau Baws the cry would go up for "Poppins" and we'd gather round the TV  to watch it for the umpteenth time, although we knew it all more or less by heart. This year, on the 11th October, it would be ten years since Gideon died. I thought it would be nice to haul out the old kite and fly it over the marshes behind Two Tree Island, where we used to go with the kids and the dogs. People sent us wishes of love and remembrance, which I printed out on coloured paper. We bought some gold and silver ribbon and made up a long kite tail with the messages stapled onto it. To hold the ribbon tail to the kite end, I attached key rings, still with their dog tags attached . One was from  Wicked Wanda the Warden's Dog (Doberman/Labrador cross :1987 - 2003), the other belongs to Lola Russell - (Jack Russell : 2004 to present.  She has a microchip, so graciously lent us her dog tag for this worthwhile cause).

I hadn't had a chance for a test flight.  Although there was a stiff wind and the kite was at its best in a light breeze, I thought that with the added weight of the dog tags and the tail, it would fly fine. It was a marvellous day of vivid blue sky, light fluffy clouds,  the sun bringing out the colour of the yellow  wheat stubble and green hills. We walked beyond the end of the golf driving range, along the sea-wall of Leigh Back Creek behind the island. On the second bend, facing  towards Hadleigh Castle, we stopped to set up the kite.

I was in charge of the line, Sam was the 'lift' man, Lucy had the 'phone camera and Suzie made supportive noises. The large kite exerts quite a pull and I was wearing gardening gloves to protect my hands against rope burn. The first flight was brief but encouraging. "Try adjusting the string to lengthen it, Sam!" The next flight was better, but still brief. More adjustment. "That's it!" The big green kite soared aloft before plummeting  to earth with a bit of a thud. Sam examined it. "Strut's broken Dad."  The cross strut is two pieces of dowelling held together by a hollow aluminium tube"Can you fix it Sam?" "No, can't get the broken bit of wood out of the metal." I usually arm myself with at least a cheap version of a Swiss Army knife whenever I go further than the end of the front path, but this time I had no tools EXCEPT the tiny two-ended screwdriver on my key-ring, used to tighten screws on my glasses if they come loose. I managed to prise out the broken bit of dowelling and force the two pieces together again. We were ready to try again.

Up soared the kite, with me letting out line as fast as I could. I had made a really crap winder on a piece of batten, with nails as guides! It held a lot of line but was a bugger to unwind fast enough. The line must have caught the edge of a nail. "The line's snapped!" I shouted with an anguished cry. Away flew the kite on its best (and final) flight of the day. It cleared the slope where Sam was standing, lifted over the water filled borrow-dyke and landed in the wheat field on the other side. There was no obvious way we could get it back.

We gathered together for a group hug. "I think it's rather nice" said Sam. " It's as if Gidz has flown into the sky and over the water. We can't reach him, but he landed safely."

Postscript:

Sam and I did try to retrieve the kite but could find no route onto the other side of the dyke that did not involve  the need for thigh-waders and machetes. I consulted a local map and spoke to a friend who used to work on the estate. We planned to go over when my cold got better. The following day the home 'phone rang. "Have you lost a kite? I found  your number on the dog tags." Nice chap with an old Staffie, he brought  back the kite an hour or so later. I failed to ask him exactly how he got to it, although he said he "often walked the dog there". Never mind. Another flight is planned for Gideon's birthday next March.