We ate a delish’ curry, followed by peach n’ raspberry trifle, out in the garden last night. Teresa wanted a fire, so we got the pot-bellied stove out.
Teresa shows a bit of leg…Teresa & Pat enjoy the garden.
Chester enjoying surveying his kingdom, from the lofty heights of the green room roof.
Rampant fern.Art in the garden.Old shirt…New shirt.
I’m currently working as a delivery driver for Amazon. Not a long-term solution, or plan. But working for me as a present or current stop-gap, whilst I work out what to do next.
Some memories…
When I had two MX5s.
The above is a screenshot of a view of our home from the Google Earth app. From the brief period when I had two MX5s.
Just watched this film. And loved it. Ok, it’s fairly heavily loaded with historical inaccuracies. But, as George MacDonald Fraser remarked, in The Hollywood History of The World, ‘The main thrust of Cromwell is true, it gets a great deal of history, and the sense of history, right.’
As our pal Pat lamented, as the credits rolled, ‘What happened to British film?’ And this is an exemplar of a style of filmmaking that Britain once did quite often, and often very well. The no expense spared historical epic.
Parliament or King?
The cast is stellar, and acquit themselves very well. Richard Harris doesn’t look like Cromwell, but he plays the role with great elan. Likewise Obe Wan Kenobi, in the role of Charles I.
For the military history buffs, seeing Edgehill and Naseby recreated is great fun. And indeed, the whole costume drama aspect of the production is superb. Marston Moor – a parliamentary victory, and the biggest battle of the ECW – is left out, however.
The battle sequences are fun.
I won’t synopsise the plot. Suffice to say that I found the two hours twenty-odd run time epic, but not overwhelming. In fact, I read online (wiki) that the first cut of the film was three and a quarter hours long. I would love to see that version. What got left on the cutting room floor?
Like any good media, on an interesting subject, this film makes me want to learn more about the real history. And that, I reckon, marks it out as a success.
The bottom three horizontal slats are loose. And no matter how I tried, I could’nae get them to re-seat on the ‘staples’ they were originally affixed by.
Grow, green stuff… grow!
In a variation in the ol’ jazzer’s exhortation – ‘blow, man, blow’ – I’m invoking the fecundity of nature, to clad our green room withal.
Teresa looking very summery.
Went out to do a short afternoon shift. Got back, and fixed the duff/loose fitting slats:
Screwed in situ, nice n’ tight!
So… another trellis panel and supporting vertical beam fitted.
All fixed in place now.
Small but steady steps towards our garden goals make me happy! Simple pleasures.
Watching By The Sword Divided, and observing the role of religion, mostly in the form of prayers, but also in the schism ‘twixt Royalist Popery vs Parliamentarian Puritanism, got me thinking about the function of religious belief.
This isn’t an essay on the subject, merely a ‘note to self’. And it’s on a theme my mind often returns to. How do I, a free-thinking rationalist, deal with religion, personally? I can’t believe in it. Yet I can see it’s utility.
The act of vocalising one’s desires, as in prayer, seems obviously beneficial, in that it focuses the mind. And an appeal to forces greater than (and external to) one’s self is (or at least can be) – ironically, perhaps? – both quite humble (an acceptance of one’s own smallness; a good thing), and even ‘realistic’. The mast in the sense of acknowledging one’s own ‘smallness’ in the grand scheme of things.
There’s an irony in that the monomaniac quest for truth (at any expense) can lead to a position that’s overly ego-istic. The idea that our own rather limited minds and bodies can contend with the powers or scale of the universe is apt to be rudely dispelled by real life.
Religious practices, prayer in particular is on my mind here, help bring calm where there was panic, peace where there was internal strife, and solace. If God/the Powers That Be (whatever they are!?) can be addressed directly, and thought of as sympathetic, one’s outlook on life can be buttressed by faith.
Since abandoning religion in my teens, I’ve been highly anti-faith/belief. Despite this, I’ve always remained aware, however, that the the needs religion addresses – and I’m talking about religion here as a personal thing, as opposed to ‘the church’ as a power in society – might be part of our suite of ‘necessary illusions’. Certainly historically, it appears that myth/poetry, call it what you will, have been part of our survival kit.
Telling ourselves stories to give meaning and purpose to our lives is normal human behaviour, and as far as I can tell, always has been. How and where can I partake of this ancient tradition, in a way I can ‘believe’ in?
I’m stumped, to be honest. Non religious modern culture seems to me to have thrown the baby out with the bath water. But older traditions remain too parochial and hide-bound. It’s a proper conundrum, no mistake!
Going back to the TV series, and something that struck me about it: the way the Puritans are about ‘Popery’, and the Cavaliers being High Anglican Tories, in essence, all in the wake of Henry VIII splitting with Rome so he could diddle whomsoever he pleased…
Well, frankly speaking, it’s Benny Hill, or French Boudoir Farce, right? And yet it ossifies into these ‘venerable’ traditions. Mad!
And what about the words venerate and venereal? They both derive from Venus, one assumes. So buried deep in what has become pompously and self-righteously anti-sexual is a very pro-sexual set of ideas. I find the evolution of language, and our culture of associated concepts, endlessly fascinating.
Multiple Gods evolve into monotheism, and where we once were supplicants to the caprices of pagan pantheons, we’re now friends with a singular deity who ‘is love’, and cares for all. Nothing should demonstrate the man-made evolution of religion, as opposed to its self-proclaimed God-given immutability, more blatantly.
This evolution seems to me the most obvious proof of religion’s status as a human artefact. But it’s more than just an artefact, it’s a quality, or dimension. It makes that saying ‘if God didn’t exist, we’d have to invent him’ a literal truth. God doesn’t exist, so we’re continually inventing and re-inventing him/her/it.
One final observation, on the evolution of language and the concomitant evolution of religion. The Israelites’, founders (of sorts; you have to give Constantine due credit n’ all) of one of the most virulent of modern monotheisms, their very name is a compression (and expression) of three deities: Ish, Ra, and El!
So a people whose very name means ‘the people of three Gods’ has become one of the standard bearers of contemporary monotheism. As folk like Count Arthur Strong and Alan Partridge are fond of saying… you couldn’t make it up!
Today I started watching By The Sword Divided, a BBC TV series from the early ‘80s that I dimly recall from childhood.
For some reason I’ve been thinking about the ECW, or English Civil War, quite a bit recently. A recurring fantasy being to sculpt wargaming figures for the conflict, or go see a Sealed knot re-enactment.
By the local (Huntingdon) Cromwell Museum.
I found the entire series, currently available on YouTube. And watched the first three episodes. I love it!
It’s funny, because the music, from the theme tune to the programme to the incidental stuff, also appeals. And is very like a good deal of the David Munrow stuff I’ve been getting into.
A 7” single of the theme music!
I’m minded to delve into the earthier and folksier works of The City Waites, an early ‘musicke’ ensemble who are featured in the series.
The Radio Times!? We used to get it…*
* Some folk – our neighbour Mel, for one (she doesn’t have internet) – still do!
I picked up three trellis panels yesterday, free. I spotted them outside someone’s home. Bold as brass, I inquired if they were surplus to requirements. They were destined for the dump. Yay! Score.
Not fixed in posish’ as yet.
I’ve slightly cut down one panel, so it matches, height wise, its’ opposite number. These trellis differ from the others we’ve used, thus far, in having doubled up the cross members, for a denser, tighter grid. Do I take out the extra timber? Or leave as they are… hmmm!?
A larger panel, at left.
A second larger panel is destined for the east (or house) side, at left as you look westwards, down the garden. This also needs a slight trim, height wise. Once again, do I leave as is, or remove the ‘extra’ cross-members? I’m inclined to leave as is!
Viewed from inside.Both new panels in view.
Neither of these two new panels are fixed in place, as yet. They’ll require extra vertical posts adding to the main frame, for starters. But leaning up against the structure gives an idea of how they’ll look.
Smaller spare panel.
Teresa wants to use the third smaller left-over panel, pictured above, on the fence outside the kitchen window. To cultivate something green and pleasant up, thereby improving the view. A very good idea!
This church, a Grade II listed building, is now a chapel of ease, as opposed to a fully-fledged parish church.
I didn’t know what that meant. So I looked into it. Apparently a chapel of ease is for occasional usage, by those struggling to reach a more fully operational local parish church.
The porch.
Or, in simple terms, a less used church. Given the decline in church attendance generally, across England, that’s saying it’s almost no longer in use.
I guess that also explains why the interior furnishings look more like a café or restaurant than a church?
First up, a gallery of the stained glass windows.
A miniature rose window!
Given my recent acquisition of a couple of editions of Painton Cowen’s Rose Window book, finding one – even if only a dinky little ‘un- in the flesh, so to speak, is timely, fun and gratifying.
And to finish, a rather handsome bit of pavement, from up near the altar.
I purchased the above today, at St Mary’s Books & Prints, Stamford. It’s a terrific book. And I’ve already enjoyed poring over it a great deal. My edition is a 1990 reprint. The text and photos, however, date back to 1979!
I’ve subsequently discovered that a newer version came out, in 2005, with more/better colour photographs. Are they all still by Cowen, the author/photographer? As they are in the above older edition.
The 2005 updated edition.
I’ll find out soon enough, I suppose, as I’ve ordered the (above) newer version! I’ve also ordered this:
Another Cowen stained glass book, 2008.
I adore medieval stained glass. And I look forward to studying these books in detail. Indeed, I hope they might inspire me to get artistically creative again.
I have no idea if the following website is also Cowen’s work, or not. It may be!? Anyway, therosewindow.com claims to have a growing library of, at the time of posting, ‘over 1200 examples from all over the world.’
Here are a few (all the photos I’ve used here are, I believe, taken by Painton Cowen):
These kaleidoscopic mandala like creations really are sublime. And from what little I’ve already read of Cowen’s writing on the subject, he boldly delves into multifarious avenues of inquiry, regarding their origins, meanings, and how they were made.
