If I had the wherewithal ...

... then this is somewhere I would consider living.


This is part of the Riverside development in Norwich, and I've just worked out why I like it ... it reminds me of the canal-side buildings in Brugge, a city of which I am very fond, and not just because of the beer and chocolate.


It's just a really beautiful city.

The Gathering

I love it when the harvest is almost over, and the fields are filled with great rolls of straw. It's like living in the middle of a large open-air work of art.

A wet Tuesday in Brighton

There's something rather special about Brighton in the wind and rain - turning it from a frantic holiday destination back into a city for the residents as the trippers shelter under the promenade or seek the warmth and noise of the amusement arcade on Brighton Pier.

A tour was taken of the Royal Pavilion, and it is some years since I last went round. Newly-restored rooms are open, and the audio-guide gives a fairly good description of each chamber and its history. Indian on the outside and Chinese on the inside, it's a unique building, and it captures the essence of the seaside town - extravagant, over-the-top and camp.


The walk along the Pier was decidedly blowly, and shelter was found on the windward side of the central divide. In the arcades people were thrusting coins into the machines with barely a pause, whilst at the far end the brave clambered onto the rides to be flung about like rag dolls. Looking westwards the skeleton of the old West Pier stood amid the churning water as another squall blew in.


A damp but delightful day, with the drive back to Suffolk taking three and a half hours with one short refuelling stop at Ipswich.

A National Trust excursion

More wonderful sunshine, and a trip up to north Norfolk for two National Trust properties, Felbrigg Hall and Blickling Hall. But first a drive into Cromer to see if there was a parking space near the beach for a short walk along the sands. However, it being sunny and the holidays the place was heaving and not a space to be found, so it was a drive around the centre and back to Felbrigg.


Felbrigg Hall is perfectly formed from red brick and decorative render. The interior not only has good furniture but also interesting glass and superb plaster ceilings.


The Tea Room has a pleasant courtyard, though the wasps made the break for a hot drink a bit energetic, and the Walled Garden is also worth looking at - though there is a separate charge for entry. With a National Trust membership you are waved through with a smile.


Blickling Hall is altogether on a grander scale. A massive imposing entrance leads you into the numerous richly-furnished rooms and then down the back stairs to the servant quarters and a display of domestic equipment along with voice recordings of those who actually worked there.


Once again there is a Walled Garden, but this was not visited on this occasion.

Two quite different Stately Homes, and whilst Blickling is imposing in its grandeur I quite liked Felbrigg for its homely atmosphere. Its Library is superb, and I even found a book (for £2.50) in the second-hand bookshop afterwards.
=

Sunshine and salt breeze

A beautiful morning and a trip off to Southwold. A walk along the promenade, along the pier, and then a tour up the lighthouse. The quintessential seaside resort activity.

A trip back in time

Into "Narfolk" today for another day out, and the first stop was Oxburgh Hall. A wonderful red-brick Tudor mansion with beautiful rooms and interesting displays, each area being introduced by a volunteer helper. Amongst the documents on view was a letter from Henry VIII to Lady Bedingfield telling her that she was to be the chief mourner at the funeral of Katherine of Aragorn. After watching some of the BBC series "The Tudors" I looked at this letter with a somewhat cynical eye. A climb up the circular stairs and the view from the roof of one of the turrets was lovely.

Then to the nearby Iceni Village which promised so much but failed to deliver. I don't doubt the time and energy spent in building the replica huts and stockade, but using badly-dressed shop mannequins to populate it was an error of not only judgement but also taste.


They were crass, and what could have been an interesting display of farm equipment and old carriages was destroyed by the ramshackle outbuildings used to house them.


The 17th century cottage was better, but again spoilt by a dummy seated at the table in the parlour.



So much more could have been made of the semi-ruined Saxon church, but it just looked abandoned.

The whole set-up place has seen better days, and it wasn't really worth the entrance fee. Actually, thinking about it, it was rubbish. In these days of interactive displays and audio-visual technology, a wooden hut with a few printed signs and a dummy standing lopsidedly in the corner really doesn't cut it.


A swift drink at the interestingly named village pub - "The Twenty Churchwardens" - no food available as we were too late, and the liquid libation was accompanied by the telling of a tale by an elderly gentleman at the bar .... "'ee were alroight the night before. Oi'd been sitting with 'im in the pub and 'ee were very merry and enjoying 'isself ... the next day I saw Bert and 'ee said that oi'd miss me old friend ... oi said what do 'ee mean? and 'ee said that he'd topped 'imself during the night - taken prussic acid, 'ee 'ad....."

From there it was a visit to Grime's Graves on the return route. A wander across the undulating ground and a descent into the only open flint mine down a long ladder. An interesting venture, and no doubt great for children to run around, but not a lot else to see.


In fact, Oxburgh was the best of the bunch, and we got in free with our National Trust membership.
_

Birth-day Away-day

I spent today in the beautiful city of Cambridge, sight-seeing, and threading my way through hundreds of Japanese tourists. Only having been there for church meetings, this was my first chance to take some time to look at the place.


I started with King's College Chapel - where else? - and the fourth most photographed building in the world. Wonderful architecture and despite the visitors, still a place of faith and peace.

Then it was a short walk down to the Fitzwilliam Museum - a venue recommended to me by a parishioner. It was superb. What a collection of art - Pissaro, Monet, Degas, Constable, Picasso, Augustus John, Millais, Holman Hunt, Seurat, Van Dijk.

There were also two special Exhibitions - one of Japanese prints, amongst which was a print from the woodblocks of "The Great Wave" by Hokusai -


and the other, a whole wonderful gallery of oil paintings of wave forms by the East Anglian artist Maggi Hambling.


After all that culture it was time for a ride along the Cam in a punt, passing seven Colleges and under their bridges - including Clare bridge ...


and the so-called "Brideg of Sighs".


And not a drop of rain all day!

Webbed feet

Now I know why the bird-bath on the patio is always half-full .... this pigeon clearly thinks he's a duck. He sat there for 15 minutes, chasing off the smaller birds that kept trying to get a drink of his bathwater!

The trouble with summer ....

... is that I get sand in my laptop ....

(No - it's not me in the photo .... Wish it was - he's got hair!)

A word to the wise

How to be a good neighbour

The end of the day

That's about the size of it

This is the sort of thing that will be trundling along our narrow rural roads for the next couple of months as the harvest gets underway. They weren't built for this kind of traffic, and it makes travelling round here quite dangerous. The machine in front of this one, for which I couldn't get my camera running in time, was massive and tall. The study darkened as it went by.

And I've been immersed in my study for most of the day. The computer desk had finally reached the end of its usefulness as the sliding tray for the keyboard kept falling out onto my knees. The runners had given up and the ball-bearings had fallen out, so it was time for a change. The nearby village school was throwing out a small computer station and so I asked if I could have it. Made of sturdy metal it is ideal but it called for a re-arrangement of the whole corner. That is now done and it looks a lot less cluttered. And for the first time I can access my scanner properly and lift the lid all the way up, which is something I've never been able to do.

I have also changed my web browser. Internet Explorer 8 was getting slower and slower, pages taking 15 seconds or more to load, and crashing if too many tabs were opened. Searching the web I found numerous posts stating similar problems, and a couple of possible solutions. However, when I tried them they had no effect. So I downloaded the Opera browser, and it's superb. Fast - with more facilities, and easy to use. If anyone out there is thinking of changing I can recommend it.

Another Holy Trinity

Sorry, but I sniggered ....

The Old Testament reading for yesterday, Genesis 18: 1-10a, was the story of Abraham entertaining three travellers at his tent under the oaks of Mamre. Now I know that the tale begins with "The Lord appeared to Abraham ..." thereby implying that the visitors are either an incarnation of God or angelic messengers, hence the famous icon of the meeting painted by Rublev, and which is held to be an image of the Holy Trinity.

But the divine nature of the travellers is not repeated, and as you hear the story unfold it's very easy to forget that this is supposed to be a close encounter with the numinous, and treat it as a story about hospitality - which is precisely what the Revised Common Lectionary does by pairing it with the Gospel story of Mary and Martha welcoming Jesus to their home - Luke 10: 38-42.

So with this in mind, and the incarnate nature of the visitors in the mind, the closing words caused me to grin inanely.

They said to him, "Where is your wife Sarah?" And he said, "There, in the tent." Then one said, "I will surely return to you in due season, and your wife Sarah shall have a son."

Excuse me?

Is this guy saying what he appears to be saying?

"Where's your wife, mate? Oh, that's her in the tent is it. Cor! She's a real looker. I'll come back later and giver her one if you don't object."

And Abraham says nothing - or at least Genesis tells us nothing further for the narrative then follows two of the travellers as they journey on to Sodom and an encounter with Lot.

And if these visitors are supposed to be the Holy Trinity, why has one disappeared?

Ah - maybe he's back in the tent ....

Buckles and Bows

Last week the Daily Telegraph carried this picture of Beryl Bainbridge's funeral. Black vestments! Lace!! Buckles on the priest's shoes!!!

I wonder what the reaction would be round here if I dressed like that for funerals?

Grudge Match

Okay - it's now 1-all.

There I was, standing in the churchyard minding my own business, deciding where some cremation ashes were to be interred next week, when I was attacked by wasps! Even though I ran for cover in the Village Hall (my gym exercise coming in useful!) I was followed by a couple of persistant little swine, and I ended up being stung 5 times - the man with me twice, and his wife, safely in the Hall, once!

Maybe it's payback time for having got rid of that nest in the garden shed last week! Oh well, the pest man will deal with that one this afternoon. That'll teach 'em.

Bastards!
(sorry)

Regarding the comment on the last post ...

The slippery slope

Dean Ray Koontz (born July 9, 1945) is an American author best known for his novels which could be described broadly as suspense thrillers. He also frequently incorporates elements of horror, science fiction, mystery, and satire. A number of his books have appeared on the New York Times Bestseller List, with ten hardcovers and fourteen paperbacks reaching the number one slot.

This quote of his I find to be sublime ....

Bunny slippers remind me of who I am. You can't get a swelled head if you wear bunny slippers. You can't lose your sense of perspective and start acting like a star or a rich lady if you keep on wearing bunny slippers. Besides, bunny slippers give me confidence because they're so jaunty. They make a statement; they say, 'Nothing the world does to me can ever get me so far down that I can't be silly and frivolous.' If I died and found myself in Hell, I could endure the place if I had bunny slippers.

Maybe this should be incorporated into the Standing Orders of our General Synod as a requirement for everyone who stands up to speak.

The Buzz word

Yesterday morning, as there was dampness in the air, I saw one of the youngsters who wait for the School bus at the end of my drive move towards the shed that acts as a shelter for them and tentatively open the door. Taking a swift look inside he closed the door and went back to where he had been, sitting under a tree. I decided that I ought to check that the "shelter" was okay inside - I look at it every couple of months or so and sweep out dead insects, remove spiders and pull up the ivy tendrils that climbs across the panels. I opened the door and ducked as several wasps flew past my head. Hanging from the ceiling was the reason why he didn't go inside to get out of drizzle.


The local Council Pest Control man is arriving this afternoon!