The Cottage

 

Bacons, the name of a cottage in the new forest, also known among my family as The Cottage. It was on this lawn aged 12 I smashed a red swing ball racket on my sister’s head in rage, and also where at the precipice of each summer we would all hunt for the hole where the clothes line pictured slots into. Recently my dad got a weed burner, and singed the grass around it, so nowadays it’s easy to find the hole.