Returning home yesterday morning from St Paul's where I had been persuaded to add my name to the church booklet (does this mean I'm an Anglican heretic?) I discovered the place swarming with these bees. The kitchen was full of the brutes and having cleared them out I spent the rest of the day forcing more, in one's and two's, out of other windows.
Where did they come from?
I have a horrid idea that a Queen has found a home in the side of the house and we will have this lot all summer buzzing around the kitchen window, hovering across my delicacies and being annoyed by my swiping them with a rolled up newspaper.
Oh joy!
How old is this oak tree? This one has sat here near a p-lace called 'Hanging Hill' for many a day.
i wonder if it is 300 years old or thereabouts? They do last a long time.
Whether 'Hanging Hill' was used for hangings has not yet been proved but the name comes from somewhere. Possibly a corruption of an old English word, possibly where they hanged miscreants. Rough justice in these parts in days gone by. There again the justice was served by the local nobles and not near this place, and hangings took place shortly after sentence unless you were an important bod.
So who planted the trees down by the river? Did they occur naturally or was there a plan? I suppose we will never know. Today this is a pleasant but muddy wander along the unseen river at this point. That appears later when a wooden path has been constructed.
The far banks were until recently the grounds of a convent of some sort. Here the nuns and their visitors could relax and contemplate while pushing one another into the river for fun. Next time I take the bike out I will trundle down the councils newly laid path that runs around this area and see if I can find anything interesting.
Treasure chests, dead bodies, plastic bottles and empty beer cans possibly.
The rain clouds, complete with a tiny airplane, threatened me all the time I wandered along. Pah!
Now I have to spend the morning furniture shifting, wall painting (which will go on for ever at my rate) and go to the museum for an afternoons volunteer get together. When, ask I, will I get my siesta?
3 comments:
No doubt a Wee Free inquisitor is on his way already....don't tell him about the tree.
You could come over and paint walls here if you get bored with your own...
You could have your siesta on those beautiful river banks. Just keep one eye open, though, in case a stray nun wanders by and rolls you into the water.
It looks like a lovely spot to sit and ponder a while.
Fly, I am attending that Anglican church these days, if the wee free found out I might get stoned.
As to painting your walls I would of course but I have just washed the brush...
Lee, I often ponder on nuns...
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