Sorrow

'Sad' sound too simplistic.
Sorrow fills my heart.

The party that brought us food banks looks like it has won this election -  if the exit poles are anything to go by - and they are usually fairly accurate.

The party that helps the rich to get richer at the expense of the poor, looks likely to have a comfortable victory.

The NHS will continue to be sold off by stealth.

We will crash out of Europe.

The poor and marinalised will continue to suffer.

I do not understand it.

I seem to follow a different beat to the majority.

Heralding Herod and Remembering Larry Norman

Advent Sunday

The KHT was rehearsing the Old Testament passage  prior to the service this morning in a surprisingly hostile tone.
The reading was from Isaiah 2:1-5 using The Message.
"The day is coming..." 
she growled threateningly
"when the mountain of God's house will be the mountain..."
She paused to glare at an imaginary congregation.
I must have looked surprised as she stopped reading to explain.
"Well, he was a baddie!"
"Who was a baddie?" I enquired.
"Herod"
The penny dropped.
"It's not Herod. I asked if you could read it 'like a herald', 
someone announcing good news..."
A look of comphrehension dawned upon her face.Off she went again,
"The day is coming.." she began triumphantly.

I am glad we got that sorted before we totally confused the  congregation!

We moved on to the New Testament passage uncomforting words from Matthew, warning us to be on our guard. When we have this particuar passage read in church, it reminds me of the song by Larry Norman 'I wish we'd All Been Ready', so I think of it as Larry Norman Sunday.
However, much as I love this song, we have Worship for Everyone on the first Sunday, so we can save that particular song for another year.

Lunch

Snooze

Doug Horley Panto 'Happily Ever After"

Churches Together service at my local church.

Relax...

Meanwhile I am going to try and read a chapter of Luke's gospel each day during Advent.
So far, so good - but it is only day 1...

Here endeth Advent Sunday

The Accidental Photographer

There are photos that I intend to take,
which turn out pretty much as I expect.




















Some of which turn out better than expected,















and those, which for some reason, don't work quite as I anticipated.









However, there is always a surprising number that I don't intend to take,
especially when using my phone.

I have no idea at all what happened here,
but it is rather amusing.








The mysterious and unexpected captures by the accidental photographer
are in a class of their own.

Ten Per Cent!

Friday was forecast to be damp, so off we went in search of water crystals, a mousemat  and other sundries. First stop was to be a garden centre.

It was drizzling when we arrived at Cherry Lane,
but even so I couldn't resist stopping to take a photo of scarlet virginia creeper and michaelmas daises,
which lurked edgily in the hedgerow at the perimeter of the car park.
Despite the precipitation we were on the trail of water storing crystals.
Frustratingly, I purchased some a few months ago,
but they have disappeared.

Large plant pots at the front of our house are scheduled to be replanted with fresh compost.
It would seemed sensible to add some water crystals to the mix at the same time  - to help keep the compost damp and reduce the amout of watering required to prevent the premature demise of the plants.

As I type, a large verbena cannot decide if it wants to live or die, after I failed to water it in early September.
The pots are very close to the house so very little rain ever reaches them and daily watering is required during very hot weather.

Despite it being the wrong time of year
a member of staff successfully located some crystals for us.
No doubt the missing ones will now decide that it is safe to reappear!


In the clothing department I discovered this 'Marmite' top - so called because you either love or hate it.
My fellow shopper was less than impressed,
but I thought it would look great with black trousers.

We moved on into the centre of Worcester,
as my fellow traveller wanted to check out a cafe.

Rain had been forecast,
but I did not anticapte the deluge that descended
just as we were about to leave the cafe!
The lunchtime rush was over.
As no-one was waiting for a table
we delayed departing by five minutes or so,
until the rain had reduced to being 'very wet'
as opposed to 'torrential'.






We made several interesting purchases, before finding ourselves in a certain department store, where I was tempted by a blue coat.
"Would you like to open a store card?" asked the helpful assistant, "It will only take five minutes. You will get 10% off your coat AND a voucher for the cafe..."
I knew it would take longer than the given time, but the thought of a 10% discount won me over
The assistant read out the essential fiancial blurb,
and I answered the questions.
We were making good progress.
I recalled being stood at the same desk about three years ago.

"Last time I tried to open a card here the system crashed. They gave me the 10% anyway..." I reminisced.
The assistant looked at me
"You're joking?!"
"Nope!"
"Because it has done it again! You have crashed our software!"
"That is really weird, because it was the same till point..."
The assistant apologised profusely and, just like last time, gave me the discount anyway!

When I got home, DH was so pleased with the new tap he had fitted, that he didn't notice my new, blue coat. I stood in the middle of the hall, looking at him for several minutes until he finally  noticed...
"Is that a new coat?" he enquired
"Yes!"
"Haven't you already got a coat?" he asked bravely.
"Yes, but it isn't really fit to go anywhere decent!" I explained.
The thought of the 10% discount cheered him up though!

It Takes a Church to be Church

As the saying goes, it takes a village to raise a child,
so it takes a church to put on an event that reaches out to the local community.

This week we held our fourteenth Afternoon Tea Service,
when we threw open the doors of the church and served afternoon tea -
sumptuous sandwiches,
choicest cakes,
stately savouries
and lashings of tea and coffee to lubricate the vocal chords and keep the conversation flowing.

As with any event it is the people who are seen to be doing who get the recognition.
It is easy to know who they are as they are the ones wearing the brightly coloured aprons
(orange this month to reflect the palatte of autumn).
They are the volunteers who serve the plates of food and top up the tea cups.
However, all their efforts would be in vain without the backing and support of both the church and local community.

The Chatterers 
They may not have been on a  'sharing-your-faith-in-ten-easy-steps course' but they intuitively enable the conversation to flow around the tea tables, drawing the quieter ones ito the dialogue and are always ready to listen to the words of others.

The Responders
Those who take up the invitation to come. Some came to the very next Afternoon Tea Service, others mulled the idea over for a while before crossing the threshold.

The Inviters 
Those who have been brave enough to hand over invitations and suggest that friends or family might like to come. They take a risk - what if they say no? Will it strain the friendship? Fortunately they often say yes, but we never assume...

The Converted
Those who have been, had a wonderful time, and make it a priority to attend and tell everyone how good it is!.

The 'Turn-Up'ers
Those who appear each time, swelling the merry throng. We are so grateful to you.

Food Preparers
Who survived the online food handling course. They passed, of course - they are such stars! Faithfully prepare fresh food, without which there could be no Afternoon Tea Service.

Donators 
Those who roll up with a box of cakes, or little packet of something to swell the feast. We never know what delights they will bring and their gifts are always appreciated.

Clearer Uppers
Who at the end of our allotted time discretely begin to clear the tables, chucking the rubbish and loading the dishwasher -  providing those who have been busily serving with the opportunity to chat with guests.

Pray-ers
They may not even be present,
but they are supporting the event in prayer.

However the foundation of such an event go back further:-
To those who taught us the importance of being welcoming.
To those who had the vision to build the church.
To those who worshipped here when the church was only a vague hope for sometime in the future
To those who look after the building and ensure it is a place of welcome.


It takes a church to put on an event.
Many people, each contributing according to their gifts, talents and time.

It takes a church to be Church

High Maintenance

"So you need to be at W______  for 6pm..."
"Yes, but the KHT is late home, and won't be ready by then,
so you will need to take me and come back and pick her up and take her to her sports club."
"Then I will join you at W, and take you home, before the church maintenance meeting at 7:30pm, which I will leave at 7:50pm to collect the KHT, drop her home and then return to the meeting."
DH outlines the exciting schedule ahead of him as household taxi.
"I have set an alarm on my watch"he announced.

Later that evening the KHT reappeared in the kitchen.
"Does anyone know an electrical expert?
"Dad will be home soon."
"No, I want an electrical expert!"


DH returned from his meeting
to a leaking pipe under the sink.
The cupboard is emptied
onto one of the armchairs in the kitchen.
From church maintenance to household maintenance - never a dull moment for the lucky churchwarden.











I go upstairs.
The KHT's bedroom light is off.
I open the door and throw the jacket, which had been abandoned in the lounge,
in the direction of the bed.
A muffled cry of outrage emerges from the darkness.
I recall the random conversation from earlier about the need for an electrical expert.
"Has your light blown?" I enquire.
"Well it hasn't been working since Thursday!" comes the indignant response.
"Why didn't you say!"
There is no answer, because we both know she can give no answer.
"I can lend you a small light."
"No, it is fine. I will just ignore it."

I go downstairs to where my husband has his head in the cupboard under the sink, trying to detect the source of the irritating leak.
"Just to add to your joy, the bulb has blown in the KHT's room."
Kitchen roll is spread on the shelves under the sink.
The precise location of the small but persisant seepage eludes him.
It will not be solved this evening.
DH switches his attention from plumbing to electrics
"Hmmm. Probably a bayonet fitting!"he announces and goes to find and fit a replacement bulb.

DH reappears in the kitchen
"It has not been working since Thursday!" he announces incredulously.
I provide no answer because we both know that there is no answer.

On the trail of Godiva

"What are your plans for the day?" enquired DH on Friday morning
"I shall be sent to Coventry!" I announced.
Nothing new there, pondered DH.

Later DH tried again.
"So where ARE you going today?"
"Coventry. I've seen mention of a market online, so we are going to investigate."
DH was still bemused that anyone would want to go to Coventry.
The road system is enough to put anyone off...
'Is there anything you would like me to get?"
"A fridge thermometer."
"No problemo," or so I imagined...

"Motorway or non-motorway?" enquired my fellow explorer.
I thought about the delights of the Midlands motorway network
and could hardly contain my excitement <joke>
"Non-motorway!"
The satnav took us on an interesting route, via Stratford.
Hardly the way I would have expected to go...
"Why didn't we just cut through Henley?"
"Maybe there was a hold up at the traffic lights?"
We will never know, for Satnavs never divulge the reasoning for the routes they choose.

The aforementioned satnav had been programmed
for the car park near the markets and the surprising blue glory of Coventry Ikea.
As we drove in signs announced that this was a ticketless car park - something we had not encountered before, but we were committed.
I suspect that they rely on CCTV, rather than just trusting that patrons will pay.

We headed off towards the shops.
Noticing a sign indicating access to the market
we found ourselves on a rooftop section of car park.
Alas, as we headed towards the sign advertising access to the market
we noticed that the roller shutter was down.
Muttering 'open sesame' was not going to gain us access.
Squinting through the windows of a large raised skylight we could see a roundabout beneath us.
Weirder and wierder...

My fellow explorer accosted an innocent looking man, who had just parked his car.
"How do we get to the market?"
He gave us a strange look,
as if to say 'why would you attempt to gain access to the market through the roof?'
and indicated back the way we had come.
We retraced our steps and somehow found ourselves on the level below.
Don't ask me how, because I really can't remember!

We soon located the market -
which appears to be circular,
with the odd circular skylight -
one of which definitely had a roundabout beneath it,
so I didn't dream that bit!

We attempted to explore the market using a sensible and logical approach,
but as there were some stalls selling the identical merchandise,
I was never quite sure whether we were passing stalls for the first, second or possibly third time.
We discovered a stall selling a vast array of kitchenware
"Do you have a fridge thermometer?" my fellow traveller enquired.
"Sorry," came the regretful reply. "They are on order, but they didn't come on the delivery."
"Never mind, I am sure we will find one somewhere."

At a stationary stall - I am such a sucker for stationery - I was delighted to discovered packs of six mini notebooks for £1 - perfect for the Christmas prize-a-time raffle.
"That is better than Amazon!" I observed.
I raided my purse for sufficient dosh to purchase two packs.
Locating the lady behind her towering display of christmas themed mechandise
was somewhat trickier.
I went one way, she went the other.
Finally the she emerged from the depths of her stall to take my money.
I happily stowed by goods in my bag.






The produce section of Coventry market is a joy to behold,
stalls loaded with a vast array of fresh food.










As we passed by the herb stalls
a pungent pot pouri of hebal fragrance
filled the air.

If you want fresh food,
this really is the place to come.
Once my town had a good market,
but even in its heyday
it was never as good as this.
Alas, I was not wanting to buy fruit and veg at this stage of our trip.
We should have saved the market until the end!






We were rather bemused by these strange contraptions dumped in the middle of the market. I assume they are barrows that get taken out into the streets on sunny days,
rather than the biers they resembled!







From the market we moved on through the shopping centre
until we emerged next to a flying saucer, sponsored by Cafe Nero.
Coventry is obviously very proud of this flying saucer
and has built a glass roof over the top to prevent it from escaping...







Next I decided that I wanted to buy a card.
Waterstones didn't have anything that met my need, but WHSmithcame up trumps.
I also admired the stationery and resisted...Have I mentioned that I am a sucker for stationery...
"Any good cookshops nearby?" my fellow explorer enquired of the lady at the till,
"We are looking for a fridge thermometer..."
"The assistant sadly shook her head, 
"You could try Wilkinsons..." she said doubtfully,
handing over my receipt
and a sheaf of promotions for MacDonalds.

We emerged from Smiths into another shopping arcade, with see-through lifts and escalators.
We stuck to the safety of the escalators.
"It's just like Watford!" 
declared my fellow raveller.
Debenhams disappointed in the fridge thermometer stakes.

Jurassic Cov

Heading towards the Cathedral.
we took a wrong turning
and paused to watch a mechanical dinosaur,
which was in the process of devouring a building.

Time for lunch.

The Slug and Lettuce got our custom.
It was quiet on a Friday lunchtime so we had a vast selection of tables to choose from.

Glory

After lunch we entered the nearby Cathedral.

It is always a delight to step into this amazing building 

and admire again the genius and vision of the architect

who designed this vast spiritual space.























I stood for some time admiring the beautiful metalwork of this cityscape - the different shapes and textures. 

Part of me wishes the plumbline was not quite so out of scale with the city. 

My fellow travellor would have prefered the city to have been suspended from the plumb line...

Two out of Three Aint Bad

It is always interesting watching a cathedral at work.
I observed as one of the vergers replenished the oil in the candles on top of these immense candlesticks.
The stepladder provides a sense of perspective.











Next we headed for the charity shops - no interesting necklaces to be found,
but we did discover some beautiful almshouses.
Ancient beams contrasting with the blue curves of the adjacent sports complex.
Coventry may not be a beautiful city, but it has plenty to interest a visitor.
One street resembed a timeline of business failures with BHS close to Thomas Cook.
We thought the M & S was closed too,
but it was actually open.
"Shall we go in?"
"Nah, I've moved on from M& S after they abandoned our town. They don't really interest me anymore."



We passed the rear entrance to Wilkinsons, but had no idea how to find the main entrance.
By now we had walked so far, that not even the thought of a fridge thermometre could lure us in.

We retraced our steps towards the fountain, admiring the fantastic voice of a young busker,  Jason Allan - here he is singing in another city.

Coventry, we will return, even if you do not sell fridge thermometers...

A Close Encounter with Mr Angry

The sun may have been shining,
the birds singing,
the bees buzzing busily about their business,
but I had no idea.
I had my nose stuck in a book.
I was deeply engrossed on a wild and windswept Anglesea
following the triumphs and traumas
of a someone who was everything I was never going to be.




Suddenly my companion whispered out of the corner of her mouth
"Oops! I think I just broke that guys windscreen. Whatever you do, don't look up, and definitely don't say a word!"
This sentence made no sense to me.
In my book there was a race against the tide, THAT made more sense.
I assumed I had misheard and murmered my assent without really considering what I was agreeing to.  Meanwhile the waves continued to break treacherously upon the jagged rocks.

There was the sound of a car reversing at high speed
"Five miles per hour maximum speed on the campsite" I intoned, as the crew desperately tried to steer the ship away from the rocks...
A sudden strident voice disturbed the peace of the campsite.
"What the F$£& do you think you are doing? 
You just broke my bloody windscreen!"
I turned another page, hoping that against the odds that the young hero would not be lost at sea, but aware that his fate was inevitable - having taken a sneaky peak a bit further on in the book.

"Are. You. Deaf?" 
The angry voice got louder and stomped across the gravel towards us.
From the corner of my eye I can see that my companion is apparently engrossed in a game of Candy Crush.
Mr Angry heads towards us.
It is hard to stomp across gravel with dignity, as the stones slither rebelliously beneath your feet.
Mr Angry cames to a halt, casting a shadow over my book.
I look up, at this towering mass of anger, and outrage.
Above his flushed face beads of sweat cling tenuously onto equally disgruntled curls of hair.
This is not the time to ask of he has ever considered playing Goliath in Open the Book.
I give him my best politely quizical look, but remembering the instruction from my wiser companion, limit communication to a slightly raised eyebrow.

"What. Are. You. Going. To. Do. About. It?" he demands.
My companion finishes her game of Candy Crush and looks up at Mr Angry
"Sorry, I have no idea what you are on about." and begins another game of Candy Crush, appearing to dismiss Mr Angry from her thoughts.

"You better pay for it. You broke it! yells Mr Angry
Unmoved, my companion continues her game of Candy Crush.
Furious at the lack of progress he is making mr Angry loses it in a violent torrent of language, profane, unoriginal, repetitive and abusive.
At this point I decide that he has crossed the line, and decide that despite my instruction not to speak, that a verbal response is required.
I put on my politest voice.
"Excuse me, is that anyway to speak to a sweet, innocent old lady!?"
I am immediately aware that both of them are now looking at me furiously.
Waves of outrage radiate from both of them.
Mr Angry resents his complete failure to successfully pin the blame on his broken windscreen on anyone to date.
Meanwhile my companion is furious at being described as "sweet" or "old".
Alas, she cannot deny neither, for fear of drawing attention to the word "innocent", which is rather inconvenient to say the least.

At this moment my husband and daughter return with bags of shopping.
DH passes my companion the greener than green bananas she has requested.
"My windscreen is broken" Mr Angry decides he needs to justify his presence.
My husband turns his gaze to the abandoned car on the adjacent roadway.
"Yes, definitely broken!"
The KHT decisdes to add her verdict to the debate.
"A bee!" she declares, "It must have been a bee!"
Mr Angry regards the solemn gaze of the KHT and agrees weakly "Yes, it must have been a bee!" 

Just as he is returning to his car to search out details for windscreen replacements a mobile windscreen repair van stops beside his car.
"Not another one!" he  announces with disbelief, "I've had three call outs to this site already this afternoon. 
Some blame Sahara Sand. 
More like Devon Sandstone if you ask me!"

The weirdest things happen in dreams...

Headlines From A Holiday

Bank Holiday Trap!
Woman spends all Bank Holiday weekend firmly wedged in the doorway, after she tries to exit the caravan holding:-

• flask, 
• bag of beach clothes and towels, 
• cool bag containing lunch 
• phone
• camera
• handbag
• emergency cardi

Flower Power
Holiday maker succesfully convinces husband that they are visiting nearby narrow gauge railway to admire the floral displays...





Missing
Man surprised to discover that his swimming trunks failed to magically appear in the beach bag.
He shook his head and observed sadly...
"Last  time I saw them they were in my clothing bag in the caravan, ready to go to the beach..."

Tide
Girl surprised to discover that the tide will go and and come in again,
just like yesterday,
but it will be running at a slightly later time...

Ringing In Ears
After visiting twenty different churches in a day on a bellringing open day in Wiltshire, a couple are convinced they can hear bells even when none are ringing...

Toast
Caravanners on site all aware that the occupants of pitch no.60 are cooking toast again,
after they activate their smoke detector at precisely 9am, for the third day in a row...





Life Saver
Woman hopes that pouring calorie-laden cream on to her calorie-laden pudding in the form of a cross, will absolve her from any calories!






Starter for 10
The KHT attempts to start a lively conversation, with the fun opener
"What is the most interesting part of highway maintenance?"







Graffiti
Holidaymaker delighted to discover someone with the same itintials has already carved them in the rock.
They can now upload a picture of the initials to their Instagram account and claim the credit,
until they get called out by an ecco warrior - at which point they can conveniently explain that the initials were already there...











Jenga
Husband steadfastly refuses to have anything to do with the precarious stack of washing up on caravan draining board, as he suspects it is a booby trap...










Sign of the Times
Woman takes photo of 'Steep Steps' warning sign, so that she can boast that the route to the nearst public conveniences required the determination of the deliverer of the Milk Tray chocolates...






Contrary?
After several days sat with her back to the sea, studiously avoiding the tempting waves by focusing on a book from her extensive collection of literature written by Jacquline Wilson, the KHT decides at 5pm that the sea is absolutely the best place to be.
Ironically this is the point in time that her parents have quietly decided that it mught be a good idea to pack up the caravan and trek homewards.

Cannot Win
As the occupants of pitch 60 pack up late on Bank Holiday Monday, fellow campers view their departure suspiciously, muttering to anyone who will listen
"If they hadn't paid for tonight they should have left hours ago!"
followed by
"If they had paid for tonight, they should have not wasted their money and spent the day in traffic jams on the M5, rather than enjoying themselves on the beach..."

Does This Ring A Bell?

Monday evening we had hoped to ring at Ottery St Mary. I had emailed the Tower Captain, but not received a reply - well it is summer and not everyone checks their emails every day.

I went online and asked about ringing in East Devon. Apparently there are over 400 towers in Devon and about 100 of these are in East Devon... I was given some contacts for the towers in Exmouth - as practices alternate between the ring of eight and the twelve. I hurriedly dashed off an email whilst cooking tea.
Did we really want to go back to Exmouth when we have spent the day there?
Did we really want to ring on twelve bells, especially if they were very good ringers...?

Meanwhile DH decided that he wanted to go to Tesco - despite the fact we visited Waitrose on our way home... It was also less than three miles away.
Exmouth could wait for another year.
"Not another supermarket!" sighed the KHT.

Having wandered around Tesco in Honiton we got in the car to go back to the campsite.
"Shall we go back via Ottery St Mary just in case they are ringing?" I suggested, "It is only a small detour and we haven't got anything that will spoil..."
DH approved of this plan, so off we set.
In Ottery St Mary we found a parking space ouside the church, which appeared to be in total darkness.
It was not looking promising.
On the off chance DH pushed the button to operate the automatic door opening.
To our amazement it swung slowly open.
This was like an episode of Scooby Dooby Doo!
Dare we enter?
Inside we could hear distant voices.
We stepped gingerly into the darkened building...
"Are you bellringers?" came a cheery voice from the glorious gloom.
"Yes", replied DH
"Excellent!" 

It was an evening when a few regulars were missing, so they were very pleased to see us.
Ottery St Mary is  a grand church and has been described as a mini Exeter Cathedral.
Unusually for a large church the bells are rung from the ground floor.
Built as a collegiate church, the Victorians gave it a significant make over.
Some of the Victorian tile decoration can be seen in the shot of DH ringing the tenor.















Meanwhile the KHT had a wonderful time exploring the church.
The ringers put lights on so she could explore the building, but she also enjoyed reading the books by torchlight!

As one of the ringers locked the door he told us that the ghost would now appear in the church.
"It was creepy enough entering the church through those automatic doors into the dark," I commented.

Wrong church

On Tuesday evening I had arranged for us to join the practice at Sidmouth.
"I know where the church is, we drive past it when we turn right on our way to the car park. There is plenty of space to park in the grounds..."
I reread the email
"Enter by the South door."
However, the South door was firmly locked,
so was the East and the West,
and all other doors.
Then I looked up.
No tower!
No steeple!
No spire!
No bells!!!
"This isnt the right church! Look it has no tower!"

DH looked up and had to agree that with no tower this was not the right church.
"Where is the right church?"
"I think it is nearer the sea.."
"I can hear bells," replied DH, "it can't be far away!"

Right church

Off we set, with windows wound down, trying to determine which direction the church was in.
We saw it as we passed it.
We then passed loads of no entry signs, as we travelled further and further from the tower.
We made our way back though narrow streets that earlier would have been filled with throngs of tourists.
No parking at the church.
We found a space close to the tennis courts.
The south door would be open until 7:45, after that we would have to find the doorbell and wait for someone to come down and let us in.
It was 7:43.
The KHT and I bailed out of the car and headed for the church,
arriving just before the door was locked.

In fairness to me, we had only ever driven past the first church and from the passanger seat you don't get much of a view of the roof. I had assumed that it was the same church that is visible from the sea front. I know differently now!

We had been invited to join the band at Axminster at 6:30pm on Wednesday evening for service ringing. We found the church with no problem, but when we went to enter the building those inisde were deep in prayer. It didn't feel right to disturb them.
We looked for a different door.
DH encountered a Vicar, who directed us to the vestry door. Inside members of the local congregation showed us the door to the spiral staircase.
We rang Devon style call changes on the front six of this glorious ring of ten.
We didn't stay for the service as we hadn't had tea, but the music sounded great!

As we left I could have sworn I got a glimpse of a green-brocade-cloaked member of the clergy wearing a mitre, but I 'might have' been mistaken...
Google tells me the Bishop of Credition was appointing a new Rural Dean, so I may have seen the Bishop. I will never know

Our next planned ringing is on Sunday morning, but this could change...

On the Border

After a manic week, in which I failed to get the stocks down from the hall loft for the local community day, I managed to complete the majority of self-imposed deadlines and departed for a break in the tin tent.

As we drove off DH posed the question he always asks at this point in the proceedings..
"What have we forgotten?"
I always reply that I have absolutely no idea, or it wouldn't be forgotten, and that if we have forgotten anything we can replace it, do with out or improvise.

Despite our 'everything-including-the-kitchen-sink' approach to packing (well we do have a caravan) we usually forget something, but not anything too vital. This year it was the beach shoes. Yes, they are still drying out in the airing cupboard... Minorly irritating, but not the end of the world.

We spent the first three nights on the Hampshire Wiltshire border. Several years ago I had visited Mottisfont and had always planned to take Barry and Abi. There was also a bellringing day around Salisbury on the Saturday... We like to take the opportunity to ring at some new towers, especially the rarely available 3's and 4's that are often available on these planned events.

Friday saw us at Mottisfont. I had visited in October, when the garden was not at its best. Since then quite a bit of remodelling has gone on, and it is much more than just a rose garden!











Even on a grey, drizzly day it is still an interesting place to wander around.
















Lots of interesting things to discover...

Knowing the rain was going to get heavier we did as much exploring outside as we could.
















Finally we decided we better brave the chaos of the cafe, which is situated on the lower floor.
We entered by the cellars, which was a tad disconcerting!
I wanted to ask if anyone had seen the salt...













DH disappeared to visit the facilities, meanwhile I acheived the impossible by finding a vacant table in the old kitchen.
The other side of the wall was a waterwheel, which turned the spit. The downside of this was the repetive soundtrack of the waterwheel turning, as we ate.
Above our table was a viewing panel into the inner working of the waterwheel. As it was above my head I failed to notice this, until a succesion of people stopped by our table and stared intently at the wall above our heads...

As anticipated the KHT LOVED the Beano exhibition and intently read each and every cartoon.

The KHT instinctivly interacted with various elements of the exhibition.















There was also an official photo booth.
Some were less keen to take part.
"Dad, you are so lame! I am never going to take photographs of my children!" one pre-teen was heard to proclaim.
"Don't blame us when there are no photographs of you!" was the response of one parent.
The KHT had no such qualms, and immediately went into pose mode with a stink bomb!







Outside the rain was getting heavier and heavier.
We delayed the inevitable with another coffee, but finally admitted deafeat and exited to a car park that was rather emptier than when we arrived!


Mottisfont - a fascinating visit. Gorgeous in October with the autumn colours,  and even lovelier in August.

Perhaps next time we visit it will be a sunny day, when the roses are at their best!

Stating the Obvious

I was catching up on a backlog of  photos.
However, the only one I took on Sunday was of the flowers on the Table in church.
I had moved the candle behind the flowers hoping for an interesting effect.
However looking at the photo after I uploaded it on to my computer,
the flame is barely visible,
which was a tad disappointing.

Never mind I thought and uploaded the photo on to my online photo project.

Then I had a 'HORRIBLE THOUGHT.'
"Did the candle get blown out?"
If the candle remained alight
and the church burns down
I have just just uploaded the evidence implicating myself...


Me ( to Dear Husband)  - Silly question, I know, but did you blow the candle out in church on Sunday evening...?
Dear Husband - Yes, AND you watched me blow it out.
Me - I don't remember that.
Dear Husband - I got wax on my hand.
Me - Ah, yes! I DO remember that!
Dear Husband - For some strange reason the candle was BEHIND the flowers. 
I have no idea why.
Me (stating the obvious) - I wanted to take a photo...

We are very different.

May I have a word, Amazon?

Dear Amazon
As one of your favourite customers
I just thought I would drop you a line
to wish you a very happy birthday.

I would also like to take this opportunity
to raise a few tincy wincy points with you

Firstly, I use you because you are convenient.
However, I do so with a heavy heart,
because the reports of how you treat your workers
are not good
I do not want to be encourage Amazon
to think
that this is acceptable.
Claims on the BBC website reveal that you expect an item picked every eight seconds,
332 per hour for a 10 hour day. (GULP!)
Surely that is inhumane!?
Maybe you should get robots to do your picking...
Oh wait, Ocardo tried that and their packing warehouse went up in flames...
I bet that slowed down those super robots a bit!
I am the customer who gave up her favourite coffee because it was made by Nestle,
because I did not feel comfortable with their policies.
Be assured that I am not afraid to change my purchasing habits,
even if it requires sacrifice.

Secondly, Amazon, you save me time.
Don't get me wrong I really do appreciate that.
You save me the hassle of touring loads of shops
trying to some elsusive item that I have decided I require...
However, price isn't everything. I also want you to treat your employees well.
Add a £1 per item to the price - and give it to the order pickers.
I really won't mind!
It won't deter me from using you, in fact it may encourage me to!
It may also mean your employees don't have to work ten hour shifts,
which will benefit them and you,
as they will be fitter and fresher for their shifts.

Thirdly, I like the fact I can order goods on the Amazon site for another country
and I do not have to pay international carriage rates to get them delivered.
You can be a great blessing!

However, Amazon., you are 25 years old.
Stop. Taking. Advantage.
Pay. Your. Way.
Yes, pay taxes!
We all have to grow up sometime and become responsible members of our community.
If you could pay the money that you really should,
then we will have more nurses and teachers and Teaching Assistants
and people doing a thousand jobs and earning decent wages.
The benefit to you is that they would have more money to spend at Amazon.
I call this 'Trickle Up' economics.
(It probably has a proper name, but I do not know what it is.)
I gave it that name because it is the opposite
of the'Trickle Down' economic theory the rich advocate
 - which never works, because as the rich increase in wealth,
they find ways of avoiding paying tax!
Leaving the poor to pay a disproportionate percentage of their income to run the country.

In conclusion, Amazon, I hope you stick around for another 25 years,
but sort out the way you treat people and start contributing to the economy.
And we will all live happily ever after.
Daff.

Sunset Strip

Sheringham is made for sunsets.
Being more sheltered than Cromer,
and positioned slightly around the corner,
means that it is often less windy than its neighbour.

Sheringham also has the advantage of not having cliffs separating prom from town.
In Cromer, you have to physically decide to descend to beach level.
Whereas in Sheringham, wander throught a gap between some buildings
and suddenly you are there, facing the sea, stones, sand and sunset.

The sea front at Sheringham is also enhanced with various murals that the KHT likes to interact with.

We ambled along,
 pausing to sit here,
or stand and watch the silent retreat of the sun.
Left behind
by the world in its ever turning trajectory.





There is always something to take the attention.

As we wandered we noticed people perched
apparently in the perfect position
to watch the sunset -
on benches or walls they sat.
Some enjoying lively conversations -
eager to put the world to rights
before the last of the day is stolen away.
Others enjoy private silent contemplation,
seemingly at peace with the world.






We returned to the campsite to witness a large flock of birds
noisily descend upon the adjacent copse,
squawking and bickering in raucous tones,
like fractious children who have been cooped up too long.
Having shared their views, they fall silent.
Not bothered by getting the last word.
They have spoken and that is sufficient.

Birds can be wise.

Sunday Morning Surprise!

This morning we went to the morning service at the parish church in Cromer.
We had no idea where to park, so I googled 'parking for Cromer church'.
A link came up advising me that there was some street parking
and gave the name of the nearest municiple car park.
There may have been street parking normally,
but it was the weekend with the best weather so far this year
so the town was buzzing.
There was also some big cycle race in Norfolk on Sunday morning
which further limited the available street parking.
After finding ourselves in a dead end once more,
but this time adjacent to the cliff edge, rather than contained within a farm yard...
We then drove around the local streets several times
in ever increasing circles
before we admitted defeat and used the recommended car park.




The church was also buzzing.
Sun streamed through the plain glass windows.
I expected the church to be half empty
but we found ourselves sat in the side aisle.
If I was carrying out a mystery worshipper
I would have said that there was a good atmosphere of expectation before the service.
The music was led by a worship band,
who did there very best
despite some very challenging acoustics -
high celings and stone walls are not the best elements
for creating a good sound.

The service was led by a young clergyman
(I must be getting old when the clergy look young...).
The churchwarden began the service by announcing his appointment to lead the church for the next three years.
I understood he had been doing so on an informal basis.
The news was met with spontaneous applause from the congregation,
who were obviously delighted by this outcome.

I examined the leaflet we had picked up as we entered.
The speaker was listed as Roger Billings.
I remembered a Roger Billings from nearly 50 years ago,
but he was now a Rev and last I heard was living in Oxfordshire.
When he stood up to speak I recognised him straight away.
"I recognise him!" I said to DH.
"Well he does look familiar.." replied DH.
"He was one of the original leaders of Crusaders when I was ten! They moved away a year or so later."
After the service I greeted him
"Crusaders, Redditch 1971!"
A look of delight crossed his face.
We chatted for a while
and he asked after various people from that era.


Back then Roger and his wife Margaret were a young married couple,
who helped launch a Crusader group, in an attempt to stop those in the 10-18 age bracket drifting away from church.
I remembered his wife as having long dark hair and wearing a long purple cloak.
It was at a games evening at their house that I first discoverd the game "Tell Me" 
which required very little skill
other than thinking of something beginning with a certain letter of the Alphabet
on a nominated topic.

It was purely by chance that we ended up in Cromer,
and went to that particular church on a day when Roger was preaching.
If he had not been preaching I would never have known that he was in the congregation!
That was my Sunday morning surprise!

Go East!

We procrastinated
put off making a decision
and were generally indecisive.

The grey wet weather hadn't helped.
How can you plan a holiday when the weather is so rubbish?
Hibernation felt more appropriate!

I kept looking at the calendar
trying to work out when
a) we had some free days
and
b) when the sun would be likely to shine!

In the end we realised that we would have to go as soon as the KHT broke up from college.
Norfolk was our chosen destination
We have only been to Norfolk for a holiday once before
and on that ocasion we seemed to be camped in the middle of an earwig infestation.
We were NOT going back to that site again!
I took a deep breath and picked a site near Cromer.

A flurry of activity ensued, as we frantically tried to get everything done that needed to be done before we went away - including making all the invitations for the Afternoon Tea Service, which will take place a few days after we return.

Last time we headed east,
which was possibly in 2013,
they were in the process of upgrading the A14.
Six years later and they were still in the process of upgrading the A14.



It was interesting to see parts that I remember as being a muddy building site, were now much improved sections of road - with the sea of mud replaced by landscaping.

Our car has a built in sat nav.
When we bought it the salesman assured us,
with his promotional parlance,
that the satnav would update itself automatically.
At the time I was doubtful.
Having driven along the A14 I am even more doubtful,
as we traversed sections of tarmac of which the satnave was blissfully unaware.
We often had to guess where we needed to go.
Satnav - you are supposed to tells us!

We found Cambridge services, in the middle of roadworks.
Six years ago, it was a welcome oasis,  safe place to stop.
Today it was noisy, overcrowded and accessed by a tortuous route past partially built road bridges.
We ate lunch, drank our coffee and didn't linger.

Heading northwards, suddenly a large church looms out of the plains
"Wow! That must be Ely Cathedral!" I guessed.
"We must visit it sometime!
"Can we go there today?" asks the KHT
"Not towing a caravan..."

I wonder how many other cities have a name as short as Ely?
At Ely we had to guess which way to go - and guessed wrong. Fortunately we found a bit of road which looped around, saving us any complicated manoeuvres with the caravan.
Look on the bright side, at least we saw the cathedral twice - albeit from a distance!
The satnav then took us up a narrow very bumpy road past some depot - Queen Adelaide or some such name.
As we travelled we had tantalising glimpses of Ouses both Great and Little -  as they traversed the countryside.





We found the campsite and checked in.
"Have you visited before?"
"No"
She rattled of some directions and handed us a map.
I had forgotten the directions before we left the office.
Anything with a reference to left or right is doomed before it is spoken.
By now there were about five other vehicles queued behind us.
DH asked the KHT to open the gate for us.
She did and we pulled forward.
The KHT then wanted to let all the other vehicles through as well...
"No, they need to check in first!" DH pointed out.
Reluctantly the KHT climbed in the car, deprived of self appointed role as chief gate-opener.
By this time I have definitely forgotten the instructions and I am trying to make sense of the map,
"Do we turn up there?" I ask, as we pass a track
DH drives forward.

We find ourselves in a farmyard.
Things are not looking promising.
Who else, besides us, could get lost on a farm?!
I get out the car and ask a couple who are admiring the view
if they know where the camping fields are.
"Oh you shouldn't be in here!" says the man,
"You need to turn around, then I will show you where to go."
Poor DH then has to try and turn around the car and caravan, with his spatially-challenged wife giving directions.
At the third shunt he makes it, without demolishing the carefully stacked hay bales.
A bemused head appears outof a barn doors and looks at us and shakes his head in bemusement at another set of visitors incapable of following simple instructions..
The couple show us where we should have turned and we follow the track up to the field.

DH greets the sight of the toilet block with joy. It is a couple of hours since lunch.
He greets the sight of the cleaning team with less joy,
however they direct him to an alternative block which is surprisingly close.
We find our pitch which has a view over the sea, with an onshore breeze to match!
Welcome to windy Norfolk.