It Might as Well be String Theory (book 3 of the hexology in seven parts)

During the summer months, my family would sometimes breakfast on the garage roof. It abutted onto the front of our house, and you could gain access to it by a full-length window half way up the stairs. Two of its sides had the walls of ours and next-door’s house to catch the sun. Giving us the feel of a Mediterranean balcony. The other two sides had a low rail, allowing an unhindered view of the Clent hills, two mounds in the distance. The rail would be a health and safety nightmare by today’s standards, but back then people were just more sensible.

My father had constructed the barrier, just as he had made a metal sword for my brother. The weapon was useless for cutting anything, but we had fun over the bypass, in the farmer’s fields before the hill began. My brother dropped it in a stream, when we had to take to a tree to escape a herd of cows. I always hoped some archeologist from the future might find it, and deduce that a great battle had been fought there.

On the days when we wanted to head further afield for our breakfast. We took the family car up in to the Clent hills, and headed through the woods to a natural hollow. My farther always claimed it had been a great rabbit hall, which had collapsed. Just like the one hazel and his friends had on Watership down. On these days we devoured rounds of toast, and a thermos flask full of tea. It was ridiculously over brewed, but my parents had long ago decided the best way to get tea in bed in the morning was to make it the night before and let it stew before dispensing it in the morning. My brother and I would troop in on wakening to fill our cups.

I suppose that was how I got a taste for tea you could stand a spoon in, and the necessary sugar needed to temper it, at a cost to my teeth. Nowadays my tea is sugar free, except as a treat. So we sat in the natural hollow with our tea and toast, enjoying nature. To prove his back woodsman skills my brother once caught a young rabbit with a wooly hat, but he soon let it go hopping on it s way. We had better vittles to fill our bellies.