Author: Seb Palmer

Teresa accompanied me to work today. After my first/midday shift, I’d planned on lunch at Elsie’s. But she was shut, alas. So instead we had lunch at Yarwell, at a little café in a marina there.

We ended up having baked potatoes, with baked beans n’ cheese. And a little side-salad. Much the same as we’d have had at Elsie’s, to be honest.

Mind, they do everything that bit better at Elsie’s. and there are no mindbending knickerbocker glories to be had at Yarwell, either. Still, it was very pleasant.

So, as is quite often the way, when one door shuts, another opens.

Later in the day, during another (second/later) shift – Teresa stayed home this time – I was directed through this pretty little ford, in Alconbury:

I also passed numerous churches I’d like to have explored. But I did’nae have the time.

I must return to these environs, on a churchical exploration mission.

Teresa and I are re-watching this. We started but didn’t finish it, once before. Our attention kind of petered out, I guess.

I have issues with all of the adaptations of Tolkien, from Rob Inglis’ one-man-show readings, to the Peter Jackson trilogies.

But, in the end, I’m giving this Amazon version another go. And, whilst it shares many of the issues of other adaptations – basically almost nobody can bear to leave Tolkien’s work as it is, or was – I have to confess, I’m enjoying it.

There’s something wonderfully hypnotic and calming about watching a fire burn.

I’d allowed myself to get hot n’ bothered, on a particularly irksome Amazon delivery route. And was feeling über gloomy, on my (late) drive home.

But a delicious meal, cooked by my delicious wife, a cup of tea, and a fire? And all was once again well with the world. The simple pleasures, eh? Surely the best?

Ok, so my tiresome work shift wasn’t entirely awful:

Watching this gorgeous family of ducks cross the road was lovely. Why did they cross? To get to the other side… why else?

Having catalogued a load of classical records, with a view to selling them (ha! fat chance). Here’s a chunk of my ‘popular music’ on vinyl.

It almost just so happened that this lot made up five galleries of 20 albums a piece. Or 100 discs. A happy accident? Well, nearly. After a quick going over or three, it’s expanded from exactly 100, to circa 105…

I’d say 80% of this lot is stuff I’ve bought. With a smattering of other misc stuff that I’ve accrued, by fair means or foul.

The classical stuff is a different story. I’m not sure I’ve bought any of it? Mostly it’s come to me from Freecycle.

Although I think vinyl a nicer format, in terms of the physicality/aesthetics, and the rituals of care/playing, etc, I’ve ended up with a far bigger CD collection. And, I guess, at least for the foreseeable, I’ll be looking to get rid of the vinyl and replace it with CDs.

Actually that process has been going on for years, already. Where once I had lots of Joni, Tom, Beefheart, Zep, Santana, Lizzy or whatever, on vinyl. Now most of those records have been sold or given away.

But, by and large, I’ve replaced the music with CD versions. There are some instances where that’s not occurred, and that galls me.

Some awful snaps of a couple of lovely looking books I picked up, in Stamford, a day or two ago.

Nice backs! Esp’ the green one…

Why has this pic focussed not on the central subject, but the periphery!?

The Picasso book is a catalogue of a 1960 exhibition. Sadly only tiny black and white pics. The Norwich cathedral book is 124 years old! And a great reminder – as well as being a beautiful thing in itself – to visit the building itself.

Small things can be great. I recently bought a new filter kit for this Hoover. Once installed? No change. Had a look underneath… brush not working/belt broken. Ordered a new’un. Arrived yesterday. Fitted today. Bongo! She’s working a dream.

After my delivery shift I was in Fotheringay, so I took the opportunity to re-visit St Mary & All Saints, a very large and noble edifice. The whole area is utterly gorgeous, as I hope these photos attest.

I always park up near the narrow little bridge. Somewhere round here would be a pretty idyllic picnic spot. Must do that!

Also visible, just about, from this parking place, is the mound of what I assume was once Fotheringay Castle.

I don’t know much about the local history. But the green plaque, shown elsewhere in this post, indicates royal connections.

So… to the church. For some unknown reason(s), I didn’t get a decent pic of the whole edifice, up close. So the above will have to do. I kind of hoped the sun behind it would create a ‘divine rays’ effect…

The interior, whilst lovely, is almost disappointingly plain. At least on first glance. But, as ever, take a while and look closely. And you are rewarded. For starters there’s the fabulous King’s College Chapel style roof, in the tower. Very grand. And very beautiful.

The pulpit is very pretty, and has its own miniature tracery roof, internally. And there are some impressive monuments, flanking the altar.

At this point, I didst ‘give wind’, as Teresa would day. And, lo… I didst follow through, a little. Panic stations! Unlike in many churches these days, I was unable to find a thunderbox.

Exit, ignominiously… waddling. Fortunately I was equipped to deal with this awkward scenario. Lessons? Be prepared.

The walk to and from the main road to the church is delightful. Through an avenue of terrific trees. In strong sunshine, like today, the dappled light is glorious.

Also in Fotheringay…