Friday, August 26, 2011
They say an Englishman's home is his castle, my village digs certainly feel that way to me.
The worlds most perfect front door.
Or is it this one? Don't let this cute moggy fool you, he's not called Sid Vicious for nothing.
And this is Sid's mate Maxwell......more on him later.
This place is so picturesque, even from a field.
The shrine to which my mother is devotional.
"Be warned, there's bell ringing practice on Friday nights" my brother had said. My first thought was "I'm so in" and assumed it was a free for all. But as I gawped into the belfry window at the top of the steeple, it was apparent this was a proper practice and not for visiting nit-wits wanting a giggle. Reluctantly, I lurked near the graveyard hoping someone would see me, take pity and wave me in, but they didn't. Instead I took this naff video. I'm not a church goer, but I love the sound of bells and it's a bloody good job as I'm living a stones throw from them. I think I'll call the Revd. Andy and see if he can hook me up with the cool kids for next Friday's practice!
Brrrrrrrr, a bit of sunshine to finish, enough in fact to have an early dinner outside with Mum. The long light evenings feel luxurious and are something I didn't know I was missing. Cheers.