About Rob.

 Sunday 28th September 2025.

After I recently mentioned taking a pie to Rob, I was asked for more details about him, so I thought I would do so today.

I often mention Rob in relation to the stables, and that is because he lives in the house at the stables. The stables were once part of a farm in their own right, farmed by Rob’s family. When his mum and dad decided they wanted to retire, and with Rob having no interest in farming, they gave it up. They sold the land and the farmyard but kept the house for themselves and for Rob to live in. As my parents’ land bordered theirs, it made sense for them to strike up a deal, and that is how we ended up with what we now call the stables.

I’m not sure of the exact timescale, but eventually Mum took over the farmyard for her horse business. She offered livery for other people’s horses and also used her own horses for treks around the farm and riding lessons.

As I said, Rob never had much interest in farming. Instead, he preferred working for the local country estate. He went there straight from school and never worked anywhere else, staying until his retirement just a couple of years ago. Now he spends his time in his garden, which seems to occupy him non-stop, only ever driven indoors by the dark.

I first met Rob when I went to help at the stables on Saturdays. Mum insisted I go to meet people my own age. The first person I ended up making friends with, though, was Rob! I did eventually make some friends my own age, but Rob remained my anchor.

I’m drawn to him because he is steady and reliable—always there, always ready to help. No matter what I bring to him, I never feel like I’m a bother. Quite the opposite, in fact. My biggest grumble or problem, or a freshly baked pie—it’s all greeted the same. With all those young girls at the stables, things could at times be a little toxic, full of squabbling over who was riding which horse. When it all got too much, I’d take my lunch to Rob’s. Even if we didn’t talk much, I always came away calmer, steadier, more able to face the afternoon.

That’s Rob, really. Content in his own world, yet with a calmness that rubs off on you. His advice is always forthcoming, given freely, and without strings attached. He makes you feel it’s meant just for you, no hidden motives—just quiet wisdom from a man at peace with his place in life.

And so I always leave Rob’s with a little of that peace tucked under my arm, like the last warmth of the sun carried home in your coat. By the time I’m back in the kitchen with Mum or out in the yard with Dad, I feel steadier—ready again to take on the day, and glad to have someone so quietly dependable just over the way.