A Wander in the Sunshine

In a vain effort to find life again I took off quite early for Tesco.  Saturday morning among the masses is often invigorating.  It was however, like the misty glinting sunshine, quite peaceful and the healthy ingredients sought were soon found.  Healthy, that is those rumoured to stimulate the brain, Bluberries and very dark chocolate for instance, were joined by Flax, Chia seeds and Hemp, the latter for one of my nieces husband's Christmas's, he will probably think it will get him high.  He is one of those convinced cannabis is the answer to all problems, from cancer to covid.  This, he attempts to prove but he so far has not been successful.

The rest is for my latest health trend, and having paid through the nose for these goods, along with my other calorie controlled foodstuffs, I should look like Charles Atlas by Christmas.

This may not however, be the case.

 

I had to look twice at these balls hanging on the trees.  These trees were only planted a few years ago, 10 maybe, and I do not remember any fruit on them last year, though I could be mistaken.  'Conkers,' all around, at least the outer shells, as it appears some kids have been having a go at them already.  The more mature trees all around have certainly passed their fruit onto the public as the mess around their feet reveals.  Many a child, and not a few adults, will now be enjoying themselves with such on pieces of string.  Entertainment is easy, computers or no.

 

 

Having walked home from Tesco carrying a heavy but healthy bag it is almost a delight to walk without any weight attached.  Having lost a stone and a half I rather hoped walking would ease, it looks like another stone must go.  At least once that stone has gone my old shirts may fit once again.  

A sun drenched public garden, with a bit of early haze, is a delightful thing.  All were happy apart from at least once screaming child, the fruit of the children's play area at the top end.   
 

The last of the roses blossomed happily in the sun.  A large bush, almost a tree, once full now with only this lot left in any decent condition.  The volunteers who help the gardners do a great job of keeping these plants going.  

 

The idea was to walk round and energise the bulk, instead I felt my knees objecting.  Naturally, this park is on a slope, and to go homewards meant going uphill.  I await my lottery win so I can employ a servant to drive me uphill when my knees tire.  This however, may be an unfulfilled dream.

I wandered about, as always getting strange looks from women with kids, clearly women who read 'those stories' and listen to 'old women's tales,' and most of them appear neurotic as a result.  Even young dad's look sheepish, though that might be because they are not used to doing such work as watching kids.  

 

As I headed towards the gate I saw this man stiing low down and apparently unaware I was approaching.  Moving slowly along the path I got two decent shots of him before he felt he had posed enough and disappeared under the bush.   Usually Robins are very wary, quickly flitting out of distance and hiding in the tree.  This one may have been asking himself what life was all about, or where has the wife gone, or wondering what football was on today.  He appeared preoccupied but once he moved he did not show up again to ponder.

I don't think much of this fountain myself, it's all a bit weird I say.  There is a rumour it represents a kid who drowned in the river.  I don't blame him if he thought they would do this to him!

I kept going when common snense told me to return home, eat and sleep.  Common sense is as you know in short supply these days and it failed to appear with me also.  Instead I continued up the slope, across the town, passed all the workers still attempting to finish refurbishing the High Street, and noticed the old church had a door open.  I peeked in, something was going on, so I entered and enquired off the two young ladies on guard what was amiss?  "It's a Ladies Day," they said grinning.

I made my excuses and left!

I wandered into 'Clintons' Card shop and glanced at the horrendous Christmas stock on display, almost none of which was suitable for my needs.  However, I purchased three £25 Amazon cards towards the Christmas present stock and was picked up off the floor by the helpful young woman working the till after I fainted when I realised just how much I was paying for this.  She grinned as I explained the vast number of women I had to serve in the family and how I was failing to remember the pin number I have used for almost 30 years.  A very helpful young woman, not unsual around here I must say.

Heading home I met a young man from the Kirk and we put the church world to rights, OK I mean we grumbled a lot, and then were joined in our grumbling by one of his old workmates, so our grumbling widened to include much of the local world.  In all, this was a very enjoyable imitation of a group of gossipping old women.  I then headed home much to my knees relief and now await the Scotland football team playing Israel for the (I think) ninth time in 3 years!  The draw for competitions must be changed I say.  

Remembrance Continues

On Friday I sauntered out because the BBC Weather forecast was for gray clouds.  I took this picture from underneath one of the wonderful trees planted in the 1800's for one of the Courtauld's.  The public gardens were then part of his garden donated to the town amidst much celebration, fireworks plus bonfire and drinking I suspect.   The trees planted were many and various and the result was something the gardener responsible never saw which is a pity as they are marvellous.  They also keep the big black cloud that drops gallons of water on people at bay.  Interesting how the man driving the grass cutter went faster as the rain got heavier.

This morning, minus rain, I went to the main parish church where a war exhibition was on.  One interesting aspect was putting these notes, each of a name from the war memorial, on the pews.  This brings home to people the cost of war and how it affected the town.  An excellent idea.  Another good idea was the show of pictures and letters from relatives of those who attend the church being put on display.  Many survived, one in five remember died during 14-18, and the letters give an insight concerning those who were there.  The stiff upper lip is rare today as is the normal practice of the terms 'Mother' or 'Father' for parents, we are more informal today.

I thought it a wonderful display with a wide variety of items covering all sides in the war.  The rat sniffing at the tins of 'Bully beef' was a nice touch and I was glad no lice were running free at the time, if there were I suspect tomorrows service will be interesting. 

 This I found interesting, it is a field kitchen.  A Frenchman invented this during the Crimean war (that's 1854 to you) and it has been in use ever since.  This one was made in the early 50's and they were used until recently when other means are employed.  The MOD keeps a store of them in reserve still.  A simple yet effective means of heating a large amount of stew/soup or whatever is lying around.  The wood goes in the hole at the side, the soup in the top where a large removable pot contains the goods and the smoke goes up the chimney, simple and effective, all great inventions are always simple.  This belongs to one of the church goers at this church, he has a Nissen hut, a trench and a wide variety of other war material at home.  I must visit one day!  Good job his lovely wife shares his enthusiasm!

 
As expected there is a window given to commemorate the men who fell, donated by a local worthy who spent much of his money on the town and worked hard as a councillor, and he was a powerful one, to improve things.  These days rich people keep their money to themselves.

Rushing home slowly through the centre I found the British Legion stand was still there from yesterday.  This time a lass sang, and sang very well, songs from the 40's to accompany the people ignoring her, not counting the mother dancing with a toddler.  I chatted with one of our 'heroes' for a while and with another who was there yesterday.  These ex-army men, who fought no war, just army bureaucracy and senior officers, were a delight to talk to.  A great many people of all ages were interested.

One of the men had created these models, you cannot see the legs sticking out from under the tank unfortunately, but I thought them a wonderful piece of work.

A wonderful collection.  Mind you I sometimes wonder about those that collect weapons.  These men understand them, they have personal meaning to them but there are others who one sometimes regards as somewhat barmy and it may be best they don't have weapons on them, even broken ones.  Back home to discover more people asking info on their great uncle or whatever.  There is a joy in discovering a connection to a name on a memorial, a strange joy but I understand this.  There may be more in days to come.  Tomorrow it is St Paul's remembrance service, I have supplied some info, and then the town gathering at the memorial in the afternoon.   You might read about that tomorrow...

Sunday Thoughts

Yesterdays early start was indeed a good idea.
I had the day planned, well after I returned I planned it, I would visit the expensive shop for the required stuff, consider painting this bit round the desk but knowing I had already decided to leave that till Monday, and sleep all afternoon.
Naturally this did not happen.
My aching knees took me to the overpriced shop and indeed back again.
I pushed aside the paint brushes, stuffed my face and considered my pillows.
The museum called.
No one had come in and the lass was on her own.
So scruffily & unshaven I toddled down there for an afternoons running around, and it got quite busy after I arrived.  I considered sleeping at the desk but was unable as people kept coming in and speaking loudly.  Tsk!  
When my now tired and aching knees got me back home and up the stairs I struggled to feed myself a morsel and later toddled off to bed.
I couldn't sleep.
I was too tired!!!

This is the weather vane that sits astride the steeple in St Michael's church.  I often noted it way above me and still don't know if it moves or not but thought I ought to capture it for histories (History's?) sake.
I suspect the bird (chicken?) was added during the restoration work in the 19 century.  Much was done then and a lot of controversy abounded.  One woman, who's father had been vicar at one time, fell out with the then vicar over changes, possibly within the building or the grounds.  Being a woman she did not leave money to the church as was usual for such folks, no her quite large estate (she had a large house, servants and acres of grounds which are now a park) was left to build another church rather than develop St Michael's.  Her church was built after she died, large enough for 300 people but with space and buttresses sufficient to enlarge the church to 600 as and when.  That has not happened.  The church, now a High Church, or Anglo Catholic if you prefer, has sold the large 7 bedroom vicarage provided and where the new man sleeps is unknown, the park possibly.
Her church has a few members and still operates but St Michael's remains the main one for the town.  St Peters does not have a spire or wee hen sitting above it.
Quite what drives some men to sitting at the top of church spires hundreds of feet above the ground to fix these things is beyond me.  My skin creeps at the thought and vertigo becomes my name.

I'm sick of all this tennis on TV!  Bring on the football!

Friday Night at St Mick's, oh and a Camel!

Time was when I could not stay in on a Friday night.  The world was out there and the world was happening all around and I had to be near it if not actually in it.  Today however I find sitting in my bed on a cold Friday night watching football far more appealing than strolling the dark streets.  Yet last night I was forced by a woman, isn't it always, to venture out to St Michaels to their little remembrance evening.  Quite why all this did not happen on Saturday I know not but not being one to question or complain I ensured my bits remained attached by arriving just after seven on the clock.
The idea was to show a few of their items and some of ours, and sell the book also.  This we did but mostly I wished to meet the grandchildren of the men on the memorial.

Being Anglicans they are into candles and while not quite me i did think they had presented things well. I spent lots of time talking to relatives of men who served, around five of them were long conversations which ended with them buying one of my books funnily enough, and all taught me a great deal.  The lady who stood out was one who had ventured to Bosnia during the war there a few years ago to deliver aid.  Snipers, customs, unhappy drivers and other problems left me full of admiration for her and her husband (who received the MBE for his efforts in controlling things) for their willingness to dare such an adventure.  That was a few years ago and they are retired now so it was not sweet young things, they were folks who had lots to lose.  

Then it was home through the dark mist, with the camera set at the wrong position for pictures all night, to arrive exhausted and struggle to sleep as I was so tired.  I also managed to miss the Scotland v Ireland game, but I canny complain, as the boss would hit me if I did!!!  

Tired or not I was forced to shop today and was somewhat surprised to be confronted by three camels in the centre of town, not a usual experience to me. There they were giving rides to brats kiddies and stinking the place down.  A wonderful idea for Christmas and I wish they had been at the museum! However I am glad I did not have to clean up afterwards!

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All I want for Christmas.....

I passed the 'Seat' shop early this morning, before any of you were up, and decided that this would be an ideal Christmas present, for me!  There were two reasons for this, one the colour yellow is the safest on UK roads it appears, and two, it was the cheapest car in the pound.  A mere £5999, a snip for the rich amongst us.  When I got home I checked the £2;34 in the savings account and at 0.001% a year I may soon be able to but this car myself, what?...oh.

I learned to drive in a Seat Ibiza and very nice it was too.  A nice tight 'feel' to it, although the driving instructor did keep in it tip top condition, not counting the time yon lassie rammed it against the left hand side and scattered them across the road of course!  He thinks of that still!

On the way I passed the setting up of a 'Boot sale.'  You will all be aware of this, people driving, paying the man in charge a £5 note, setting up a small table or blanket, and selling all the junk in the house they wish to lose.  I am told there are many bargains to be had but when I passed nothing had begun and I had no cash.  Why these boot sales always occur early on a Sunday morning when I have other things to do I know not.  Why not use a Saturday I ask?  It would suit me and my piggy bank better?   People are so selfish I find.

My Sunday ended in here, the first time I have been inside.  I should say I took the picture earlier when the heat of the day had returned, chased away the mist and made the heart glad.  These English churches fascinate me, it is very different in Scotland you see.  Places like this go back hundreds of years and many bear traces of the events history has wrought on them.  This was possibly began as a Saxon church and was developed as the town grew once the market began in 1199.  Roman brick can be seen in places and the graveyard may well have been used by them and Saxons, though not at the same time!   An unusual Anglican church this one, they appear to believe in God!  Pews, arches, interesting things in corners I would have liked to look into, and as I sat pondering I pondered on the Victorians sitting stiffly in these pews, each in their place, the unwilling dissenters from the years of the reformation forced to attend unwillingly, the vicars who canny men that they were led the people wisely, the vicars from distant times who may not, and who may not even have been able to read that much!  Pilgrims passing through, beadles using sticks to control 'rowdy youths,' a panoply of a thousand years of the towns history.  As I was having difficulty following the sermon, acoustics not as good as I hoped and his speech a slight hindrance, I mused instead.  Nice to be in such a place, in spite of the Anglican way of doing things. 

Oh yes, and for collectors of doors we have this narrow item.  I suppose this is used by those wishing to climb into the ancient tower, and those who each Monday practice ringing the bells.  There is not much point in being a campanologist if you are too fat, says he taking his stomach of the table.  

I told the vicar and he tolled the bell mate.

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Ancient Rural Scene

As my bike and I shook and clattered along the ageing path I stopped to cogitate on the farm in the distance.  I wondered how long folk had farmed this land?  Certainly there was a Celt Iron Age settlement around here somewhere when the Romans brought us roads, wine, revolting Boudicca and failed to take Scotland.  Interestingly enough Tacitus wrote of his father in law who was governor here twice in the 70's and 80's.  That's first century by the way!  His name Agricola, as in Farmer!  Good job his dad was into growing things and not a plumber.  Not that Agricola did much in the way of farming, unless you call dealing with rebellious Celts a kind of reaping.  Hunter gatherers from the distant past were in Essex 8000 BC and by 2000 BC some had become resident in the district.  It is possible the trees which covered the area were cleared soon after this time I guess and so for around three thousand years this area has provided fodder for the people in one way or another.  Not long when you consider Iraq has been doing the same for about ten thousand years but I find this strangely fascinating.  Not so the farmer who rushed past me in his Japanese 4x4 leaving the dust to settle on my almost clean bike.  I blame the EU!

That church has stood there for between 800 and a 1000 years also.  It may sit on a Roman cemetery, which may sit on a Celt one, and the Saxons may even have built the first church around 600ish there, or not as the case may be.  So rarely do i see this view it took me by surprise.

I also came upon this poppy sitting almost alone among greenery in a siding.  These excellent bright plants appear almost everywhere at this time of year.  The colour stands out and as they are found everywhere, and probably unstoppable at that, I suspect they will be around for a very long time.  I wonder if some Afghan will go around and make some money out of them in a wee while....? 

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Victorian Door

Sadly as I passed the other morning the sun was shining on the other side of the street.  This is unfortunate as I would rather this door stood out a bit brighter than it does.  It belongs to what was once the vicarage, and Victorian vicars were very important indeed.  Powerful in the world around them their houses reflected their importance.  To obtain such a 'living' was something to be sought, although whether they cared  about God or not is debatable.  Anthony Trollope spoofed the Anglian church of the mid century in his book 'The Warden.'  It was so good even I read it!  Today things are somewhat different. large vicarages, rectories and deaneries have now been sold off, turned into flats, demolished or like this one put to a variety of uses.  Here we find offices and living accommodation together I believe,  and I do know a lass born here when dad was vicar, and that must have been around the time of the second world war.  How times change.

                                   

like so many others the vicar would merely cross the road to his church and begin his work, although he ought to have been working before this I say!  His church has stood on this site since the 12th century, possibly following on from a Saxon construction and even a Roman cemetery.  The town was a mere fifteen miles from the Roman garrison in Colchester, a days march and this may well have been a regular stopping point.  Certainly a small hamlet of some sort was erected here.  Lots of bits have been found from that time.

As the vicar crossed the path to St Michaels church he would possibly note this niche on the back of the church.

In times past as pilgrims made their way across to various shrines, there was St Edmunds in Bury St Edmunds, and another at Walshingham in Norfolk, they would make use of such niches where some form of blessing could be found.  Sadly I cannot remember all the details and I have no info to hand.  I could spend time on Google but my chips are beginning to burn so I will let you ponder on the blessing received b y the neds empty beer bottle and KFC bag instead.  

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