Tales from the Meadery - May 2026

In true Saxon fashion, our return from our overseas adventures began not with a triumphant homecoming, but with our trusty taxi expiring dramatically on the M25. Obviously in the middle lane. Obviously at a point where the entire road had to be closed.  And obviously leaving us standing on the side of the carriageway like a sack of confused lemons.  A big thumbs‑up, however, to what at first glance appeared to be a slightly lost schoolboy who’d borrowed a Highways Agency van for work experience.  On closer inspection, this remarkably youthful-looking individual turned out to be our knight in high‑viz armour, calmly shepherding a collection of pensioners — and Mrs Mead, who is absolutely nowhere near being a pensioner — to safety with the patience and authority of someone far older than they looked.

We eventually made it home, fully expecting the usual Basingstoke welcome of drizzle and disappointment, only to be confronted by actual sunshine in the garden.  Naturally, this caused concern.  Several weather apps were consulted and there was a brief moment of existential doubt that we might have taken a wrong turn and ended up somewhere continental.  But no — against all odds, it really was sunny in Basingstoke.

With morale dangerously high, Mrs Mead turned creative, deploying hanging baskets with the fierce focus normally reserved for preparing the village before a raid.  Meanwhile, Mr Mead embraced a different kind of creativity, involving a spanner, a mallet, and an optimistic belief that o‑rings would “just go in” to the Grainfather fermenter setup.

They did not.

Several o‑rings gave their lives in the line of duty, the air turned distinctly Anglo‑Saxon, and the brewery swear‑jar is now full enough to fund further mistakes.  Still, order has been restored, tools put down, and the important thing is this: Elderflower and Summer Fruit are now bubbling away nicely — proof that perseverance, sunshine, and a bit of well‑aimed swearing can fix most things.