I finally got to look around inside St Peter and St Paul, Wisbech, earlier today. Last time I tried, I’d just missed closing time (2pm!). This time I got there at 1.55pm. They were open (just!). And they had a school event on.
So I wasn’t totally free to snap away as I pleased. But the photos here convey some of what was most immediately appealing. One thing this place is strong on is stained glass.
I had work in the later afternoon. But I went to Wisbech early, specifically to visit this church. Then I got waylaid, visiting CGL, a charity in Wisbech, based near the church, who helped me during my difficulties of this last year and a half, or thereabouts
As the galleries attest. The biggest attractions of points of interest, to me at any rate, are the stained glass windows. There might be more to unearth?
I’ll have to re-visit, well before closing time, and when they’re not doing a school event. Anyhoo, with that in mind, I left…
WordPress kept crapping out on me! So I deleted and reinstalled it… twice! I also decided to split the Stradsett post in two. Was it causing the problems? No idea!
So, I left off as we were sat under a big old oak… and now I resume there, again. Plus some more small steam engines.
Today was Teresa’s 55th birthday. My how the time flyeth!
I bought her some pink roses. And her workplace gave her some other flowers. We combined these, and it resulted in the rather fulsome bouquet, pictured above. This provided enough flowers for four different smaller displays throughout the house.
Polishing off breakfast in bed, with bucks fizz.
Breakfast in bed for ‘the other half’ is a tradition with us. Usually accompanied by a bucks fizz. Teresa likes two croissants, with bacon, fried onions and tomatoes, and a fried egg. Tea and plain orange juice round out the food and drink.
Moules Mariniere for lunch…
After a relatively lazy morning – although I did do a bit of tidying round the house – it was time for lunch. Lunch was moules mariniere, with garlic bread, and salmon and spinach on olive bread. Mmm… dee-lish!
… with salmon sarnies.Table, cluttered with flowers, pressies, etc.
Simple but hearty and tasty fare. The flowers, a candle, and other pressies make the rather cluttered table look pretty. Beady eyes might also spot some big reference tomes. I got those earlier in the week, off Freecycle.
She doesn’t want me photographing her!
In the afternoon we went to Ely, to have a wander round Waterside Antiques (a tradition for Teresa’s recent birthdays). I got her some earrings and a pretty little brooch, of her own choosing.
Dinner at The Lamb, in Ely.
And to bring the main action of the day to a happy conclusion, dinner at The Lamb Hotel, in Ely. We traditionally eat at Prezzo in Ely on my birthdays. And Teresa almost booked us in there this time. But it turns out she could’nae ha’ done that, as it’s closed, permanently! Bummer.
Bangers and mash for two!
The Lamb is a nice old fashioned Hotel with attached pub/restaurant. We’ve eaten there many times. I was going to have pasta. But Teresa persuaded me to join her with bangers and mash. And I’m glad. ‘Twas ver’ ver’ noice indeed!
Neither of us managed to polish off the whole meal. A glass of house red and a jug of water washed it all down. There was no room for dessert! Particularly as we had chocolate cake waiting ‘back at the raunch’.
From Waterside Antiques.
‘Sparkles, spangles, Her heart will sing, Wearing baubles, Bangles and beads.’ Blue was the theme for this little lot. Really pretty!
A little pre-bedtime Baileys.
The blue theme continued at home, with these cute miniature glasses, that Teresa bought years ago at an antiques place in Market Deeping.
Rounding off the day with a hand of rummy.
After a long and fun-filled day. It’s up the wooden hill to Bed-fordshire, and a few hands of rummy, before lights out and off to snoozeville.
‘Did you have a good birthday, my love?’ ‘I had a brilliant birthday.’ Fab! Job done.
We owe Teresa’s ‘bruncle’, Daniel Samuels* a deep and heartfelt debt of gratitude (to be expressed as a consignment of real ale!), for lending us the wheels that enabled us to be part of Teresa’s cousin Oliver’s wedding.
* Bruncle: brother and uncle; uncle – Jean’s (Teresa’s mum!) youngest brother – but brought up, by Jean, as one of Teresa’s siblings!
At the wheel of a diesel in’t Smoke!
We drove down on Monday. And stayed in a B&B, over a pub, in Hounslow. Thanks Teresa, for booking that. It was weird being in London again. Most of London is sooo ugly and depressing! Thank goodness we got out when we did.
Confetti and kisses outside St. Barnabas.
That said, there are some really beautiful parts. And Oliver and Alexandra were getting married in one such area, Molesey, south west London, close to the Thames.
Teresa took this lovely pic, outside the church.
The wedding was held in St Barnabas Church, with a chap called Richard* presiding. Both Oliver and ‘Lexie’, as he calls her, are musicians and teachers. So, unsurprisingly, but nevertheless wonderfully, the music was great.
* Actually, no word of a lie, the Rev. Richard Biggerstaff… or, more familiarly, his eminence, the right Rev. Dick Biggerstaff!?
Lexie looking lovely.
As the bride walked in, a guy played Bach’s famously beautiful Suite #1 in G major, on solo cello. Gorgeous! And the final piece, before everyone left the church, was Eric Whitacre’s I Carry Your Heart, sung by a small choir in the upstairs gallery. Beautiful close harmonies, with densely voiced chords.
After the ceremony, which was lovely and quite moving, there were tea and biscuits next door. And then we all headed to High Billinghurst Farm, Godalming, for the reception.
Hops and chandeliers at the fab barn.
The reception was terrific. It was nice to get to know folk from both sides of the union, the Wellbournes, and the Sarkar-Samuels, and all their kith and kin! There was booze aplenty, including, rather unusually, a lovely single malt to toast with. And the dinner was a terrific Indian curry.
Oliver’s drums.
Oliver is, like me, a drummer. Sadly we had to leave about 7.30pm, in order to be home at a reasonable hour (got back at 10.30!). So I didn’t get to see or hear him play. But I did get to see his little jazzy ‘jelly bean’ kit. A Canopus snare, no less! Wish I’d have tried it out, to be honest.
Janet, Andrew, me ‘n’ Teresa, and Ida, St Barnabas.Teresa, Janet and Andrew.The reception.Linda, Alex and Teresa enjoying the pud’!
Knowing we had a long journey home, I had to be very careful about my booze intake. Especially as there was so much. And all free! Thankfully I managed to be very restrained.
The wedding day was a mixture of sunshine and rain. Fortunately for Oliver and Alexandra the rain only intruded a little bit into their celebrations. Or at least that part of them we were at. Later on it rained really pretty heavily; for over two hours – so over two-thirds – of the homeward drive!
But we got home safe and sound. It was lovely to be greeted by Chester on our arrival! What a cutie.
I’m following Kurt Vonnegut’s advice, as per my previous post, and writing a poem. Here it is:
Classroom Crush
She’s a beauty And no mistake Long brown hair A fine filly With a luxuriant mane Just enough jewellery To suggest sophisticated decadence Sat with her peach of a derrière On the edge of her desk.
A green velvet jacket A colourful batik silk scarf Enchanting hazel eyes A voice that’s refined Commanding obedience Oh so willingly given Long elegant fingers Rest on a copy Of Sirens of Titan.
Oh, Mrs Martin Your Mona Lisa smile Always baffled and beguiled I wonder how many Boys hearts you quickened Or maybe broke? Sat in the ranks Of hideous brown plastic chairs I secretly loved you.
I have to thank a secondary school English teacher (Mrs Martin?), for introducing me to Kurt Vonnegut. Truth be told it was her sex appeal – a bright and beautiful young woman, with a fascinating looking book – as much as the literary appeal that first took me. Ah, Mrs Martin, where are you now?
The edition Mrs Martin had.
Well, today, on FB, he was quoted by one of those weirdly intrusive ‘you might like this’ meme-things. I reproduce the quote below, keeping the bit about homosexuality that they omitted:
‘If you want to really hurt you parents, and you don’t have the nerve to be gay, the least you can do is go into the arts. I’m not kidding. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.’
According to online sources this quote comes from Man Without A Country. I must get/read that!
Be prepared to be shocked and amazed as Count Arthur channels the spirits (not the ones he keeps in his dunks cabinet, mind). Mind-blowing psychic powers! Just be sure to have a tissue handy, in case nan’s pesky parrot threatens to mess on your sailor suit!
Disturbingly hilarious!
Learn all about Clean Queerpatra, and the sarsosagoose of Gordon Rameses. Just be careful the camels don’t get your potted meat sarnies.
And just in nut-case you wrongly surprise that The Count is some kind of Stegosaurus Rex, here’s proof he can move with the rimes:
And, far from resting on his impervious laurels (hardy millennials that they indubitabubbly are), he’s continued to hone his ventrilaquastick, er, ventricle-elastic… um, sod it, the art of squeaking with you mouth shut. Don’t believe me? Let The Count and his little red-hatted friend testifry:
On the way home from Hannah’s we stopped in at Season’s Garden Centre. A new business that’s recently appeared (after years of watching construction and wondering what was coming!), between Chatteris and Somersham.
But they do at least show some intent!
I bought five daffodil bulb sets. Every year as the daffodils come out I long for more at home, in our garden. And slowly I’ve been adding to our meagre stock. But it seems to be taking forever!
My attempts with umbellifers, or cow parsley type plants, are faring even worse! Only the stuff nature plants flourishes. The two seed sets I’ve bought have yielded naught, alas.
These King Alfred are, I think, a bit bigger.
I got four sets of cheaper generic narcissi, and one of a larger more expensive King Alfred variety. There are probably a similar quantity of pre-established daff’s in this particular border.
These are amongst the few from previous years.
We don’t know what the little purple multi-flowers are. We’ll have to Google image search ‘em, I guess. Which Teresa has just done… grape hyacinths, apparently! Or muscari armeniacum!
I planted five new bulb sets today.
Believe it or not this long thin flower bed has actually already been weeded a couple of times since xmas! Still haven’t mowed any lawn. Reckon I’ll wait till it gets a bit warmer first. Mind, it’s warmer outside right now than it is inside our home!
Looking after Hannah’s daughters, my nieces, Ali and Sofi, is a regular and very welcome routine that we have going on at present. It may not last long, as I know Hannah needs to change her work situation. So we’re enjoying it whilst it lasts.
Ali’s a great drum student.
I’m lending Ali a drum kit. It’s an old Premier, in pretty poor nick. it used to be my busking kit, when I did that, in days of yore! I think I need to upgrade the cymbals I’m loaning, as the ones on this kit are awful!
It’s nice teaching Ali. She’s a great kid, and a good drum student. Both Ali and Sofi are musical. Ali favours guitar and drums; Sofi, clarinet, piano, and now sax as well!
Quality time with the utterly adorable Lobster.
It’s pleasant to get out of our own environment. And it’s not too demanding. In fact it’s fun. I slept superbly last night, as well. Which is, at present, rather unusual.
We do breakfast lunch and dinner for everyone. Or rather Teresa does. I help out a bit sometimes (I even cooked a whole meal on the first visit!). But it’s mostly my terrific mrs.
This is typical scene, in Northstowe.
Today I’ve been tinkering with a guitar. I used to do that quite a lot. But I’ve lost touch with ye olde axe in the last year or two. So much so, it’s initially frustrating, discovering how much I’ve forgotten!
But it comes back relatively quickly. Not that I’m great, on guitar. I was pretty competent at one point. But that was when I played daily, which I haven’t done now for aeons. Well, whatever, as folk say nowadays. I’d just like to get back into it a bit, and hopefully enjoy doing so!
It has to be confessed that I’m not having the best time of my life right now. I woke up, after some very interesting dreams, felt mighty sick. And pretty shortly thereafter, barfed.
I’m not sure the fish and chips dad and Claire kindly bought us last night totally agreed with me. But the neither am I sure that this was plain ol’ food poisoning.
I’ve been suffering from hyper anxiety and agitation just recently. And a disturbed mind can manifest in many ways physically (please note, this is not an endorsement of Louise Hay’s insane ideas)
Simon, Teresa, and Claire, Sunday evening.
I spent almost the entire day today in bed. Feeling thoroughly wretched. I had ‘cotton mouth’ the entire day, despite eating next to nothing and drinking lots of water.
There’s some shit going down in my life at present that I’m keeping to myself. Maybe just for the time being, maybe forever. But it ain’t pretty.
And today it culminated in a mammoth visit to the A&E at Peterborough Hospital. Mammoth in the sense we were there from 3.50-10.20pm… six and a half hours!
And, glory be to our ultra-capitalist society, not only am I there as an ill person, I also have the joy of paying £9 parking for the privilege of this exhaustingly long visit.
Our Tory Overlords sure know how to milk us Serfs.
But back to the Joys of Spring: acid-reflux, bloated stomach, wind. Eyes red and puffy from a mixture of disturbed sleep and all sorts of other shit. This weird upper respiratory bullshit that’s been bugging me now for three or four years straight!?
Let’s do the show right here!
It’s enough to make one sooo miserable one feels compelled to write a musical, and make everyone else’s lives a misery as well.
It seems my cup o’erflo’eth with naught so much as bile. Will I even make it through this week? Past evidence suggests I will. But that doth not fill me with The Joys of Spring.
