tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61079385315645028912024-03-17T02:41:44.399+00:00The Ragged Society of Antiquarian RamblersThe Ragged Society of Antiquarian Ramblershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14512955306646644472noreply@blogger.comBlogger512125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-79385519330510138742021-03-18T19:58:00.003+00:002021-03-18T20:02:51.982+00:00Letter to: 'Neil Oliver, Scottish/long hair/loves cliffs/stands staring into middle distance on rocks'<p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Z7peOWr1SKY-gFzs6t12YWY-YHiDChD_tDWrSyXR-GGok5Xp0nBw-gWoirF1sP_t1Yv9u5lci4LBXlUdrtv_5wdVhcwYoPk-XykjaJKmjMxWhMrw48sApLYRnT8qCZA4lX6a2iTtLMM/s1388/Neil+Oliver.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1388" data-original-width="1153" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Z7peOWr1SKY-gFzs6t12YWY-YHiDChD_tDWrSyXR-GGok5Xp0nBw-gWoirF1sP_t1Yv9u5lci4LBXlUdrtv_5wdVhcwYoPk-XykjaJKmjMxWhMrw48sApLYRnT8qCZA4lX6a2iTtLMM/w333-h400/Neil+Oliver.jpeg" width="333" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">'On Beeny Cliff'</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">Having learned that even letters address as generically as 'Neil Oliver, Scotland' reach TV's smouldering archaeologist, the Ragged Ramblers saw an opportunity to put pen to paper and here's the result:</span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22.7px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">Addressed to 'Neil Oliver, Scottish/long hair/loves cliffs/stands staring into middle distance on rocks'</span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22.7px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">"Dear Mr. Oliver, </span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22.7px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">I like your long hair. I like the way it flaps in the wind on Coast, wild and free, flapping like you are a Hardy hero brooding on Beeny Cliff. My son, Timotei, grows his hairs in the long fashion too, fresh and strong. Have you ever caught your hair in an extractor fan? Timotei has! He climbed up on our avocado bath and - whoosh - that was it...</span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22.7px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">All those years ago when you used to stand in a trench with some other man, I sensed that you yearned for so much more. It pleases me that you dig the old still and are Scotland... but not the independence. Your hair is much more that television’s Alice Roberts - public science understanding and all that! Do you prefer the traces left by long-dead humans to the living detritus we are forced to endure time alongside? (I am a scarcely sentient water-bag.)</span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22.7px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">My mother is 86 now and when I mention you she snarls, ‘Miserable cunt!’, but, rest assured Mr Oliver, I always threaten to smother the dotty old bat with a pillow if she potty-mouths you - and then she desists. She is angry with you because she believes that you dug a trench and buried, ‘that nice Nicholas Crane’ in it. She also says that archaeologists befuddle the public with gloves and ‘ritual’ when they really don’t have a clue about the purpose or meaning of an artefact - that’s mother for you! </span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22.7px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">Yours sincerely,</span></p><p dir="auto" style="background-color: white; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: courier;">Lambert Mundesley</span><span face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif">"</span></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-83773330146479105602021-03-18T19:03:00.002+00:002021-03-18T19:06:25.785+00:00Ode to Munro<p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaGmguBH6W07K5c0bSrPlIHQ0rdk9o1dEyU0mn07VxO7PNQpkL1epMIZ_wCAYW05_xzQGVUhthUuZcxQZTly_vxN27rrTVeCuKn6k2BIcohjSt5vlA5d-yxX2ygHBka2kWCN_X0p2pgkQ/s1024/lp_image.heic" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaGmguBH6W07K5c0bSrPlIHQ0rdk9o1dEyU0mn07VxO7PNQpkL1epMIZ_wCAYW05_xzQGVUhthUuZcxQZTly_vxN27rrTVeCuKn6k2BIcohjSt5vlA5d-yxX2ygHBka2kWCN_X0p2pgkQ/w225-h300/lp_image.heic" width="225" /></a></div><br />Munro you chuckle me greatly<p></p><p>Your prose and wit so Stately</p><p>Observations abound, your visions surround</p><p>And you’re not half bad at table tennis.</p><p><br /></p>Old Yellow Teeth Normanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236198408571631024noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-57453424132705313942020-12-22T23:19:00.001+00:002020-12-22T23:19:01.703+00:00An Old Map<div><div>Here is a c400 year old hand-tinted decorative map of the (mid) east of England that I recently acquired (dimensions = 27x19cm) . It was engraved by Pieter van den Keere (1571-c1646). The dealer described it as dating from the 1590’s. </div><div><br></div><div>This charming and fascinating map features a notably hilly (!) Norfolk, my adopted county (in the bottom RH corner). It is interesting to note that the area around the fenlands is depicted as it may well appear in the not too distant future ie inundated! Other counties included are: Lincolnshire, Derbyshire, Staffordshire, Nottinghamshire, Leicestershire and Rutland. </div><div><br></div><div>Pieter came to England in 1584, as a Protestant refugee from his home town of Ghent with his sister Colette, who married Jodocus Hondius, in 1587. It was probably from Hondius that Keere learned to engrave. Both engravers left London in 1593 to settle in Amsterdam. Thus, as with so many good and interesting things, this map is very much a product routes traversed. </div></div><div><br></div><div>Huzzah! </div><div><br></div><img width="100%" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=1GvdFCVNUXFhioOrhTV1msCQ-Bns8LaOS"><img width="100%" src="https://drive.google.com/uc?id=19CJ1T0Lxw6W9t7hhB9KHSd6eLG3ki0zj">Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-52346919106064495752020-11-22T20:54:00.004+00:002020-11-22T20:54:57.169+00:00Music for the Angels - St Edmund, Acle, Norfolk<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizinj81jemcSY_wHVjjO13zkVTONviX7tU-okJD-pvril3kpofiuJE6qQZNuR0EKCE7ZJOHJKj5JPNJE3OLqKUIxixF2BjZhJ_25q2QmfDLnGrA5V40C2emlKfe7jSEFHr5UphW3QooNc/s640/Acle+Benches.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="477" data-original-width="640" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizinj81jemcSY_wHVjjO13zkVTONviX7tU-okJD-pvril3kpofiuJE6qQZNuR0EKCE7ZJOHJKj5JPNJE3OLqKUIxixF2BjZhJ_25q2QmfDLnGrA5V40C2emlKfe7jSEFHr5UphW3QooNc/w400-h297/Acle+Benches.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">St Edmund, Acle, has a wealth of interesting features to recommend it, but here is something that is easily missed... </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6iPuDsf43CtzZXtZuzyLzTV8EdVWZZ4ghQSGg5BmLpljZLeNJ-12-q6gVR4QfP0NZLWZ-V74nsACcxTmJXHd6pTdNOm8xI8vucVNhHTC5Qo6_m_LNrA_5hCMgvSHkFWm1kcWKE_eKKH8/s640/Acle+Angel+Bagpipes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="640" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6iPuDsf43CtzZXtZuzyLzTV8EdVWZZ4ghQSGg5BmLpljZLeNJ-12-q6gVR4QfP0NZLWZ-V74nsACcxTmJXHd6pTdNOm8xI8vucVNhHTC5Qo6_m_LNrA_5hCMgvSHkFWm1kcWKE_eKKH8/w400-h338/Acle+Angel+Bagpipes.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">In the spandrels of a set of early twentieth century benches in the chancel is an angel puffing away into a small set of bagpipes. If you have ever wondered what an angel's bagpipes sound like, then the anonymous carver of these spandrels offers us some idea in the form of his carving of the angel opposite this musician...</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe6fTTNTKc3bWXrpyo48Gc2yZDklQQefqEd4IoDEBQnz56NVvdHxyEvNu3J_bTGCinxgEHDBlK397Y7v8UVj2mpuKp7dG9uhXiNZDt5ekhEYFNMWR1d8a2IhiLPW2hchhkmjO7T3s9Iag/s640/Acle+Angel+Covering+Ears.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="468" data-original-width="640" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe6fTTNTKc3bWXrpyo48Gc2yZDklQQefqEd4IoDEBQnz56NVvdHxyEvNu3J_bTGCinxgEHDBlK397Y7v8UVj2mpuKp7dG9uhXiNZDt5ekhEYFNMWR1d8a2IhiLPW2hchhkmjO7T3s9Iag/w400-h293/Acle+Angel+Covering+Ears.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <span class="TextRun SCXW17976118 BCX8" data-contrast="auto" lang="EN-GB" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, Calibri_EmbeddedFont, Calibri_MSFontService, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; font-variant-ligatures: none !important; line-height: 18.3458px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;" xml:lang="EN-GB"><span class="NormalTextRun SCXW17976118 BCX8" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;">© Ragged Ramblers, 2020</span></span><span class="EOP SCXW17976118 BCX8" data-ccp-props="{"201341983":0,"335559739":160,"335559740":259}" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; -webkit-user-drag: none; background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, Calibri_EmbeddedFont, Calibri_MSFontService, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 18.3458px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; user-select: text;"> </span><p></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-13834645099790976442020-11-01T17:47:00.005+00:002020-11-01T17:57:54.343+00:00Human Touches at St Andrew, Frenze, south Norfolk<p class="MsoNormal"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsav0ZC-iPiInTQXKGUvMhtcO1x2htescWU2yQF4VcW959qjlV7buyLrqilWu_p8NwWdINf_kCgvf-r8J0zQO8fUpI670bpZe6naOSKXcpRe7UU-Mu8LqIBis2y2XZByzttuKCesv6DN4/s640/Frenze+Church.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="454" data-original-width="640" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsav0ZC-iPiInTQXKGUvMhtcO1x2htescWU2yQF4VcW959qjlV7buyLrqilWu_p8NwWdINf_kCgvf-r8J0zQO8fUpI670bpZe6naOSKXcpRe7UU-Mu8LqIBis2y2XZByzttuKCesv6DN4/w400-h284/Frenze+Church.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Rising ground</span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">It was late September and veteran Ragged Rambler, Mr. Dan
Many Coats, and I were exploring churches in south Norfolk. That day, we had already
visited Illington, Bressingham and East Harling, and were now on the road to St
Andrew, Frenze, a short distance from Diss. This lovely little church, in
the words of the inestimable D.P. Mortlock & C.V. Roberts, ‘has to be
sought out, but [is] worth the effort.’ So it proved to be (even though, upon arrival, the church locked)</span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif">The church is situated next to Frenze Hall, and requires a
drive of about half-a-mile or so through the hall grounds. Sitting atop a small
hill (this is Norfolk, so anything over sea level constitutes a hill!),
something about this humble little country church set our ‘church fanciers’
radars twitching with anticipation. As you will see from the photograph, it is
basically a nave with a bell-turret and a Tudor brick porch. The church is
under the care of the <b><u><a href="https://www.visitchurches.org.uk/donate.html" target="_blank">Churches Conservation Trust</a></u></b>, so we were a little
surprised to find it locked. However, as you will see, in many ways this turned
out to be something of a blessing.</span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixA-eHDU3V-IQ03ql8SYiaJtP2_Vi88MDH2vzJnHi1-LxJ7H2rG6kSGsym-U3qAhr2jCWPTXlKlD3yrokoNKfxbRf9WfN9rGjuj9On8erVqgZVMrKjwjk0cpMXaccHWrEQXqSCQuLfAJ8/s817/Frenze+Porch+Exterior+View.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="817" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixA-eHDU3V-IQ03ql8SYiaJtP2_Vi88MDH2vzJnHi1-LxJ7H2rG6kSGsym-U3qAhr2jCWPTXlKlD3yrokoNKfxbRf9WfN9rGjuj9On8erVqgZVMrKjwjk0cpMXaccHWrEQXqSCQuLfAJ8/w314-h400/Frenze+Porch+Exterior+View.jpg" width="314" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Tudor period brickwork</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Despite initial disappointment we were soon buoyed by the
elixier of all Ragged Ramblers – tea! So, we opened our flasks and poured a cup
and stood the tea to cool a while, before beginning to explore the exterior of
the church.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbUsXELKtNoH9c71vhpu20dan_i8mPA9WMUhF883aLJetJPCraUxIWunmkT0ig6lfQ1NH0tZZRCc9QT-aFs99w9VwLC_MDsbEY5SXMO_Yc1qTM1_8LQm3e5kAiAhNvJDxxqEGgqyXaQHk/s668/Frenze+Angel.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="668" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbUsXELKtNoH9c71vhpu20dan_i8mPA9WMUhF883aLJetJPCraUxIWunmkT0ig6lfQ1NH0tZZRCc9QT-aFs99w9VwLC_MDsbEY5SXMO_Yc1qTM1_8LQm3e5kAiAhNvJDxxqEGgqyXaQHk/w384-h400/Frenze+Angel.JPG" width="384" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; line-height: 107%;">The first discovery we happened upon was this little
angel etched into the glass of the window immediately east of the porch. A
crowned angel with curly locks and wings, hovering above a skull and crossbones; most likely drawn by a glazier some time during the late eighteenth/early
nineteenth century by our estimation. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; line-height: 107%;">‘A lovely thing!’ exclaimed Mr. Many Coats. <o:p></o:p></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTf0nZ4UTzmWbDunx6i_L6XoKGn15MsGn7n4Oe5ucK3oAN64DX-aUhXJc4zXvme-MFf0GCwaOZMrSxPYY5QGHheZD2b7CJ8kEWl02MygHEGOXnUI6JY9WqNtLI_-GXTIBf7F5vVymP08/s782/Frenze+Flask.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="782" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuTf0nZ4UTzmWbDunx6i_L6XoKGn15MsGn7n4Oe5ucK3oAN64DX-aUhXJc4zXvme-MFf0GCwaOZMrSxPYY5QGHheZD2b7CJ8kEWl02MygHEGOXnUI6JY9WqNtLI_-GXTIBf7F5vVymP08/w328-h400/Frenze+Flask.JPG" width="328" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Flask + Mortlock & Roberts, 'Norfolk Churches'</span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Having perambulated the church we returned to the sill where our tea and a well-thumbed copy of Mortlock & Roberts awaited us. As
we sat and chatted, it dawned on us what a wonderful Tudor creation this porch
was. As is our want, we began to extemporise and were soon conjuring up the scene during the 1500’s as the brickies
constructed it. They would have sat and had a sup of ale and got a yarning,
just as we were doing. Their days were just as familiar and ‘workaday’ as ours,
and yet, for all of the centuries dividing us, we both live(d) during extraordinary
times; times of social massive social change, contagion and uncertainty.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; line-height: 107%;">‘To think that those Tudors coped with the Reformation
and all that other stuff without tea… well, it’s a wonder really isn’t it!’ <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI2ymVCwwmAOeKf5W19upFYb5yyQ_zAuTPihsb906H8mJcyCFQikhRZjSw_7lw90WUbvVkM-YC1BXfFnZwsQA2KJaQ5w88tsECFKWrEsEUVcipu82m5rDlq7xvGfPiaiCAKCkSVc3Xv5M/s640/Frenze+Fingers.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="470" data-original-width="640" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI2ymVCwwmAOeKf5W19upFYb5yyQ_zAuTPihsb906H8mJcyCFQikhRZjSw_7lw90WUbvVkM-YC1BXfFnZwsQA2KJaQ5w88tsECFKWrEsEUVcipu82m5rDlq7xvGfPiaiCAKCkSVc3Xv5M/w400-h294/Frenze+Fingers.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The impression of fingers lingers...</span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: verdana;">It was during this conversation that Dan noticed some
finger-prints impressed into one of the bricks; the prints of three fingers to
be precise. We love discoveries like this! Human touches like these connect us imaginatively with the past in an intimate way. It’s a bit like those carved wooden heads on
bench-ends in our churches that shine from the instinctive touch of countless
generations of visitors, or – to give a specific example – the tiny paw-prints left
by kittens who padded across the wet clay tiles as they lay out in the summer
sun at a brick-field so many summers ago, and which, today, can be found on the
floor within the grand setting of Salle church (click <b><u><a href="http://raggedramblers.blogspot.com/2014/12/st-peter-st-paul-salle-intimate-details.html" target="_blank">HERE</a></u></b> for more about this).</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">And then Dan spotted something else. On the east face of
the buttress immediately west of the porch window was a small graffito. What makes
this one so unusual is that, judging from the paleography, it was carved during
the Late Medieval period – probably, the fifteenth century. Probably many such carvings
were made, but very few survive in external settings like this. Unfortunately,
we weren’t able to decipher it, but it was a great thing to find (one of only
three such medieval examples I’m aware of on Norfolk churches).</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgolUZNzWEyGz1PhsvHBKgLEjERsKdAQ-C27rUwUBNeS_Ae1c-d6g0oPQvTmr19Eq6Ab1bUq3r8Ss_Ljz7ccqXyroyegXCrqG9zwoKHrKCCA9YipVEr95QL4O4Rd7EWEDRHARKCSFfTpe4/s640/Frenze+Graffito.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="478" data-original-width="640" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgolUZNzWEyGz1PhsvHBKgLEjERsKdAQ-C27rUwUBNeS_Ae1c-d6g0oPQvTmr19Eq6Ab1bUq3r8Ss_Ljz7ccqXyroyegXCrqG9zwoKHrKCCA9YipVEr95QL4O4Rd7EWEDRHARKCSFfTpe4/w400-h299/Frenze+Graffito.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Writing as I am, on the eve of our second lockdown in Britain,
it’s likely that many churches will, regrettably, remain locked. However, as our
visit to Frenze proves, taking a good close look at the exteriors of churches can
prove to be richly rewarding – and that’s without looking at the gravestones.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Frenze, truly is a charming little church and
I intend to return to explore its interior as soon as I can. If it’s half as
good on the inside as it is outside, then I’ll be one happy Ragged Rambler!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Composed by Munro Tweeder-Harris, Esq.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><i>© Ragged Ramblers, 2020</i></span></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-85252638403511184712020-10-31T08:54:00.007+00:002020-10-31T09:09:56.547+00:00Ancient Secrets at St Gregory, Heckingham<p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvyZj5a_mfMddXUSA7LmD4y5fTEXctta1_sHwXMBMTYfWVK_jiJoV0DdQczbvdVXafgyqoT1xCI3C5VvCPRCb9YNU_RqJcFPOPz2CKOeYgYrNQUKxzINhuuiwdiiNZtRXlX7jet-n5EBA/s1280/Heckingham+Church.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvyZj5a_mfMddXUSA7LmD4y5fTEXctta1_sHwXMBMTYfWVK_jiJoV0DdQczbvdVXafgyqoT1xCI3C5VvCPRCb9YNU_RqJcFPOPz2CKOeYgYrNQUKxzINhuuiwdiiNZtRXlX7jet-n5EBA/w400-h300/Heckingham+Church.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="background: white; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">St Gregory, Heckingham, lies tucked
away down a narrow lane. Just as at its ‘sister’ church at nearby Hales, an
ancient track (now a public footpath) that is aligned with its south door, runs
into the distance in the fields opposite. Walk up the small hillock approaching
the graveyard entrance and you will see a plain wooden bench on which - with an
enigmatic reference to the surrounding landscape - the following words are
carved:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm; min-height: 22.7px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">‘Ancient church. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Marshes know far older secrets’<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR7KgoezPAirLmkOtWeZ44tua4z6Qc1YZhc_K95CJM8vffJQbZhprDiBwTcOmHuB-cuajukzUirCn2qZ_01L7Ssj7CxHLYmTuiDBHmuwK8-p2279JrNvdP1GGB4XwJVK7KdEpUjo-Y7xM/s1280/Heckingham+Bench.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR7KgoezPAirLmkOtWeZ44tua4z6Qc1YZhc_K95CJM8vffJQbZhprDiBwTcOmHuB-cuajukzUirCn2qZ_01L7Ssj7CxHLYmTuiDBHmuwK8-p2279JrNvdP1GGB4XwJVK7KdEpUjo-Y7xM/w300-h400/Heckingham+Bench.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">To be honest, although ‘older secrets’ may well lie buried in
nearby marshes, I have no idea what they might be. What I do know, however, is
that this lovely church has some secrets of its own to reveal. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZNVTD3TnLQT5h_1P1inkqAUrBbyYmuC6pPoth9RWqQEQsuQEaEX-Hp01Dqqt9OlJQTC5mXI7hHUEpEfKhBTY6uJeJ0rQhAH5f1O5wGyK0JLo6vD4V14Y7PyPA7YX_x2ASPyrfmy3gxEg/s1280/Heckingham+Mary+Crowe.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1204" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZNVTD3TnLQT5h_1P1inkqAUrBbyYmuC6pPoth9RWqQEQsuQEaEX-Hp01Dqqt9OlJQTC5mXI7hHUEpEfKhBTY6uJeJ0rQhAH5f1O5wGyK0JLo6vD4V14Y7PyPA7YX_x2ASPyrfmy3gxEg/s320/Heckingham+Mary+Crowe.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">There is, for instance, the story of two daughters of John and
Elizabeth Crowe - both of whom were named Mary. At the west end of the north
aisle is a ledger slab on which is carved a grimly grinning skull. Here we
learn that Mary Crowe died in 1659. Meanwhile, the other Mary Crowe lies
interred under an almost identical stone at the east end of the aisle, she
having died in 1666. Clearly, the name Mary held a special place in the hearts
of her parents and was, as was quite common, re-used within families. Even
though several centuries lie between me and these deaths, my heart goes out to
these poor grieving parents. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm; min-height: 22.7px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Along the same aisle you will find an ostensibly nondescript
ledger slab set into the floor near the wall. I assume it marks the final
resting place of some anonymous person. But if you look closely and carefully
you will notice some crosses etched into the stone. The position and style of
these crosses strongly suggests to me that this a palimpsest: a re-cycled mensa
slab that, in the pre-Reformation church, would have been the altar within the
churches chancel. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsnJoji1BXBhGzKeYc3p48-qOVOgQ4XjCCGt3quu5J122OHU-MW0tXJ8tKPf8wynhUNtY896_5tu4y9sCQQV_kZTQtJhrU2w48HBNVoUU2tIxsAGPnw4xJNOXuFUlsLCBr626fvPV3tLI/s1280/Heckingham+Mensa.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsnJoji1BXBhGzKeYc3p48-qOVOgQ4XjCCGt3quu5J122OHU-MW0tXJ8tKPf8wynhUNtY896_5tu4y9sCQQV_kZTQtJhrU2w48HBNVoUU2tIxsAGPnw4xJNOXuFUlsLCBr626fvPV3tLI/w400-h300/Heckingham+Mensa.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif"><br /></span></p>Stepping into the graveyard for a moment, another ‘secret’ is
revealed: namely, the tragedy of countless anonymous poor folk who died in the
nearby ‘Union Workhouse’ at Hales. These individuals are commemorated with a
modern grave marker to the north of the church - a nice human touch in my
opinion. </span><p></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm; min-height: 22.7px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm; min-height: 22.7px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlA5hrRuysQ6eNDPm06ihhhc37FyAQqSJKtAVhSwDr4-liofs-l77jMjMjRoP-lwhx139krH99FIiCaM-lTl53RwSCevcCV8XaE3FhYfEmbW4eob-FoiJRbk10E672XTE-3q-dp65o4sE/s2016/Heckingham+Hales+Hospital.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlA5hrRuysQ6eNDPm06ihhhc37FyAQqSJKtAVhSwDr4-liofs-l77jMjMjRoP-lwhx139krH99FIiCaM-lTl53RwSCevcCV8XaE3FhYfEmbW4eob-FoiJRbk10E672XTE-3q-dp65o4sE/w300-h400/Heckingham+Hales+Hospital.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm; min-height: 22.7px;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif"><br /></span></p>Back inside the church, as I look at the re-used medieval tiles
that form the raised floor at the east end of the north aisle, I think of the
nameless folk who have walked on them. I think too of the tiles drying in the
brickyard in the summer sun some long gone day ago. Perhaps, as at Salle,
kitten paw prints might be found imprinted on their surface, or fingerprints
perhaps (as at Blickling or in the porch at Frenze). </span><p></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm; min-height: 22.7px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">At present a wooden funeral bier stands immediately next to the
late Norman font, a reminder of the cycle of life and death which this church
has been witness to. How excited John and Mary must have been as the priest
baptised their Mary’s in this very font. How many children, ‘time out of mind’
(as pre-modern documents sometimes say), must have had their heads wetted at
this font. Cold old stone and the flow of warm life and Love - these are some
of the layers of meaning that reside here. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0FPiuae8kx00p26sRSxkUaSpzw1wYIXr2VQ2WVxlrP9LbZueTg8uC7mc5BNoldlfC9sJmXS8kK9vSKgncTUt2c9CrWIVRXT6JA5r41MbUM7WKX9Flb-9Wt_p_Urb_Tl_xMX1OhXT9RGs/s1600/Heckingham+Font.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0FPiuae8kx00p26sRSxkUaSpzw1wYIXr2VQ2WVxlrP9LbZueTg8uC7mc5BNoldlfC9sJmXS8kK9vSKgncTUt2c9CrWIVRXT6JA5r41MbUM7WKX9Flb-9Wt_p_Urb_Tl_xMX1OhXT9RGs/w300-h400/Heckingham+Font.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif"><br /></span></p>And looking at the blocked stair well to the north of the chancel
arch, we are reminded of the sweep of huge impersonal historic events that
played out here, in the most humble and rustic of settings. The Reformation
swept away the rood screen here - most likely ending up on a bonfire in the
churchyard, or, perhaps, being recycled into a local home or farm
building. </span><p></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4_N6n-miuiuFcfupbpcH4CxyeON1vGj1otfvhd2G2B6KFzxJnClmztsbaCSaR3GTBgjrZ8zLo2G_vvSFBbWNIdbIaCiTz7BW4V-qrSPhm5gft0wgil2nof-B31Zs_E76OWt89Alc2cBU/s1280/Heckingham+Church+Interior.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4_N6n-miuiuFcfupbpcH4CxyeON1vGj1otfvhd2G2B6KFzxJnClmztsbaCSaR3GTBgjrZ8zLo2G_vvSFBbWNIdbIaCiTz7BW4V-qrSPhm5gft0wgil2nof-B31Zs_E76OWt89Alc2cBU/w300-h400/Heckingham+Church+Interior.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span face="Arial, sans-serif"><br /></span></p>Now, let me say something about the outstanding treasure of this church;namely, the richly carved Norman south doorway dated from the
mid-1100’s. This is a dazzling display of Romanesque carving: chevrons,
crosses, zigzags, bobbins and a hood-mould with wheels. It really is a wonder;
one that never ceases to impress me no matter how many times I revisit the
church. </span><p></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV2o62UUKsvJbuCZ-SndRn_AV0v8KCPl6ZmwY7cwAxGUC5iL8wbqS2FZcWSXtC9kxkOfdImuHBZJ21V92oCmDcG2wahDMdRyoATSIoQLzULxUadTpcnhfItVKs5hF6yb1OXHrVGjxaDxc/s1280/Heckingham+Doorway.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1046" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV2o62UUKsvJbuCZ-SndRn_AV0v8KCPl6ZmwY7cwAxGUC5iL8wbqS2FZcWSXtC9kxkOfdImuHBZJ21V92oCmDcG2wahDMdRyoATSIoQLzULxUadTpcnhfItVKs5hF6yb1OXHrVGjxaDxc/w328-h400/Heckingham+Doorway.JPG" width="328" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">An open door</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"></span><p></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">I think we would all agree that 2020 has been a terrible and
testing year. The tragedy of the global pandemic with all its resulting death
and disruption is a backdrop against which I write this short piece. I know
that I am not alone in having struggled with poor mental health during these
testing times. Hats off then to the Churches Conservation Trust for enabling
the doors of this church to be open. Unfortunately, a pervasive risk averse
culture seems to have swept this country when it comes to keeping churches open
- especially, Church of England ones (with noteable exceptions like the
Hempnall Group, all of which are open). The fact is that where this is a will
there is a way when it comes to open churches. </span><p></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm; min-height: 22.7px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Within a church like Heckingham we can escape the tribulations of
the wider world for a while. Whether you come to pray or to explore; to sit
quietly, or to talk about some things that really matter with friends (or some
combination thereof!) - whatever your reason, that open door <i>really</i> means
something. It is part of a culture that says, </span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">‘Here (at least), you are welcome’. </span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Within, we are able to heal. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuu3b7POY6DBELEOggnfoZesvcGzYPdYHMYZVdJbRBk6CNzwm5u3ESincuFGCwUfHhoDLMENTBMh3gS3oT8I3yb8Af6ju4ayJeZMJ9DKf7LjwgM7dw2QnafEKdbRCqd6NF0tndJmOFA-0/s1599/Heckingham+Stillness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1599" data-original-width="1129" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuu3b7POY6DBELEOggnfoZesvcGzYPdYHMYZVdJbRBk6CNzwm5u3ESincuFGCwUfHhoDLMENTBMh3gS3oT8I3yb8Af6ju4ayJeZMJ9DKf7LjwgM7dw2QnafEKdbRCqd6NF0tndJmOFA-0/w283-h400/Heckingham+Stillness.jpg" width="283" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Stillness within</span><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">To support the work of the Churches Conservation Trust please
click on the following link and make a financial contribution: </span></p><p style="background: white; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><u><a href="https://www.visitchurches.org.uk/donate.html" target="_blank">Churches Conservation Trust Donations</a></u></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">© Ragged Ramblers, 2020</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-32026722299628862102020-10-30T18:14:00.008+00:002020-10-31T09:04:57.460+00:00Revisiting St. Margaret, Hales<strike></strike><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLWH-sMt2O42W8wusXx2xSskx9iobFqgJ8s2DS99LpNZ_E8xUspK2QvhcN6WhsZTfPSShVtVqECnAwjK-Xv0DaAh8bKn1nBLRKIQHv1OJDGYj4rcyyjG3t_9YK3_lf-6nbZI3OCFj8wmU/s640/Hales+Thatchers.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="477" data-original-width="640" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLWH-sMt2O42W8wusXx2xSskx9iobFqgJ8s2DS99LpNZ_E8xUspK2QvhcN6WhsZTfPSShVtVqECnAwjK-Xv0DaAh8bKn1nBLRKIQHv1OJDGYj4rcyyjG3t_9YK3_lf-6nbZI3OCFj8wmU/w400-h297/Hales+Thatchers.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Thatcher's at work</span><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Arriving at St Margaret, Hales, is always like greeting an old friend - only, on this occasion, my friend was busy having a haircut. The future of any church is only as good as its roof, so it was good to see the thatcher's hard at work on this smudgy-skied Autumnal day. </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">So, not being able to get inside the church as I had intended, I will share some images from my archive instead. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV7Uhk6Hj1lulqFGJcYj45lAlt3XMTYiHZKznn2X_1ywaIJc-REq8f2Hv3teewoU4KDYawzL3VJ_M40RJcf4SfW62u0AdLIF8TZbHLEPO55JKXO4ggNi1khwsvmn1FMlDMsHqQtZDTPp8/s808/Hales+Interior.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="808" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV7Uhk6Hj1lulqFGJcYj45lAlt3XMTYiHZKznn2X_1ywaIJc-REq8f2Hv3teewoU4KDYawzL3VJ_M40RJcf4SfW62u0AdLIF8TZbHLEPO55JKXO4ggNi1khwsvmn1FMlDMsHqQtZDTPp8/w316-h400/Hales+Interior.JPG" width="316" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /><span>With its round-tower, lack of aisles and semi-circular apse, Hales is the archetypal Romanesque Norman period rural parish church. In more affluent areas of Norfolk these early churches were replaced during later building campaigns - particularly during the 'Great Rebuild' during the fifteenth century. However, in this area of south-east Norfolk, with its cluster of round tower churches, relative poverty inadvertently ensured the survival of these historical gems. Unlike its 'sister' church at nearby Heckingham, Hales has no aisles, and, thus, retains its essential Norman floorplan. The insertion of larger windows in the apse and nave during later centuries means that the interior of the church is lighter than the original. I imagine that, dimly lit with the original lancets, the Norman chancel must have had an intimate cave-like quality akin to that at <a href="http://www.norfolkchurches.co.uk/frittonedmund/frittonedmund.htm" target="_blank">St. Edmund, Fritton</a>. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYLQxr2QidSL4CjXDrl2ZSsNoyE_EkJizhXFRXbrzjfCE0-_zyN4f0QJk3EA2Co4rPHlWSqwGzpvR8X1V31HGR8B9sxFamXNAq74q4HGiFWRYE3VlLY_lSvQwX0xfrqpCJ4FNoDC9uWas/s749/Hales+Apse.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="749" data-original-width="640" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYLQxr2QidSL4CjXDrl2ZSsNoyE_EkJizhXFRXbrzjfCE0-_zyN4f0QJk3EA2Co4rPHlWSqwGzpvR8X1V31HGR8B9sxFamXNAq74q4HGiFWRYE3VlLY_lSvQwX0xfrqpCJ4FNoDC9uWas/w341-h400/Hales+Apse.JPG" width="341" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Semi-circular Norman apse with early fourteenth century window inserted at east end</span><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><span>It would be remiss of me to write about Hales without mentioning <i>that</i> Norman doorway.</span> <span>Indeed, one of my principal reasons for re-visiting the church was to take a decent photo of it. However, with the builders on site this proved impossible. In the absence of this, here is a lovely batique depiction of the doorway by my friend, Maggie Robertson, who gifted it to me several years ago. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE_gFO-x5qz0vF78pputpeY0jGZ1ZYAPNLoscXM3HYcbL_a6WAcJ8spc9gkdGSfoWcqfLjeIJ2K3-WxflIrt_IsaM7Xvs_Hs4GYFXA7XEUvF2WoVlyx1cuZbJcA78Vc0m-W1ir0NndPPA/s1280/Hales+Doorway.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="832" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE_gFO-x5qz0vF78pputpeY0jGZ1ZYAPNLoscXM3HYcbL_a6WAcJ8spc9gkdGSfoWcqfLjeIJ2K3-WxflIrt_IsaM7Xvs_Hs4GYFXA7XEUvF2WoVlyx1cuZbJcA78Vc0m-W1ir0NndPPA/w260-h400/Hales+Doorway.jpg" width="260" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Maggie's work</span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">Finally, when I return here I will be sure to look at the concentration of apotropaic crosses carved around the doorway. The long departed souls who carefully carved these intended them to ward off evil spirits. If the lovely, warm atmosphere I have always felt in this special church is anything to go by then their work was not in vein. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98-8D2m1D_arrEQdw88Uu7-XiRcAkxmmDA670g5S5I1RFnXZxMZXm3lottHiFd5ROMJpwWv9ajoGF9SgekoFkV3furAmOLFM9aNP2hNKDxS-FzHoayq_E7VWGIqV2kFSFRJC0MGNVq4U/s817/Hales+Doorway+Graffiti.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="817" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98-8D2m1D_arrEQdw88Uu7-XiRcAkxmmDA670g5S5I1RFnXZxMZXm3lottHiFd5ROMJpwWv9ajoGF9SgekoFkV3furAmOLFM9aNP2hNKDxS-FzHoayq_E7VWGIqV2kFSFRJC0MGNVq4U/s320/Hales+Doorway+Graffiti.JPG" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">© Munro Tweeder-Harris</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div></td></tr></tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-3787667257730942172017-03-18T17:04:00.001+00:002017-03-19T07:59:09.124+00:00Mount Grace Priory<div><font face="Gill Sans"><img id="id_de1c_ca0a_c3da_474f" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ldi-5m9AigU/WM1oc4rCSCI/AAAAAAAAHXk/pds6AQvLuuk/%25255BUNSET%25255D.png" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 298px; height: auto;"> <br></font></div><div><font face="Gill Sans"><br></font></div><div><font face="Gill Sans">The Carthusian order represented a late eleventh century attempt to reconcile the coenobitic tradition of a community of faith with the eremetic tradition of solitary faith. Therefore, whilst the majority of the monk's time was spent in silent prayer, labour and isolation within their respective 'cells', they did come together for collective services twice daily within a small conventual church. This is one of the reasons for the more humble scale of the Carthusian churches relative to, say, a Benedictine foundation like Fountains Abbey that was designed around collective worship focused on the church. </font></div><div><font face="Gill Sans"><br></font></div><div><font face="Gill Sans">However, if the word 'cell' evokes images of a small place of confinement, think again. Think instead of a self-contained house and garden, with food and drink brought to you via a J-shaped serving hatch, cleverly designed to avoid direct contact with the 'conversi' (lay brothers) who served them. </font></div><div><font face="Gill Sans"><br></font></div><div><font face="Gill Sans">Today, we visited the finest surviving example of a Carthusian house in Britain, Mount Grace Priory, Yorkshire, located on the once busy pilgrimage route between York and Durham. </font></div><div><font face="Gill Sans"><br></font></div><font face="Gill Sans"><img id="id_1ac4_26fa_f9ee_db9a" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_CMf2DvHbjY/WM1ofgg4FGI/AAAAAAAAHX0/r6vE11bvgns/%25255BUNSET%25255D.png" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 298px; height: auto;"> <img id="id_c185_98c1_5916_8d25" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0s1yyZTgb2E/WM1oe8HrJuI/AAAAAAAAHXw/AIAn8g3BMnM/%25255BUNSET%25255D.png" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 269px; height: auto;"> <img id="id_2f0c_a5d1_cb23_4e5" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-jc17bqNfcL4/WM1od0iVKEI/AAAAAAAAHXo/QtVMsl_hv7w/%25255BUNSET%25255D.png" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 298px; height: auto;"> <br><img id="id_4da8_676c_40c0_2cb3" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-y3XSerZd8hU/WM1oeaJ2mQI/AAAAAAAAHXs/v5Y26hbUS3g/%25255BUNSET%25255D.png" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 298px; height: auto;"> </font><div><font face="Gill Sans"><img id="id_9cd9_5d0b_602_68e5" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-N4TjK1-p2iE/WM1ohdv7x7I/AAAAAAAAHX8/ovqYDm_SBio/%25255BUNSET%25255D.png" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 341px; height: auto;"></font></div><font face="Gill Sans"><img id="id_4b4d_e8ff_8658_7273" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-BXhI4omX-ao/WM44gKgQCWI/AAAAAAAAHZA/F64WvZiXMBI/%25255BUNSET%25255D.png" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 298px; height: auto;"> </font><div><font face="Gill Sans"><img id="id_1dae_72a_6566_f893" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-U6e_hC0YiHc/WM44g4Blk1I/AAAAAAAAHZE/GeeRqHKQbSw/%25255BUNSET%25255D.png" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 298px; height: auto;"> <br></font></div><div><font face="Gill Sans"><img id="id_d417_1197_44d1_4d98" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-3yUdZNMCp1A/WM44ek31QUI/AAAAAAAAHY8/gv7_DZMzuUo/%25255BUNSET%25255D.png" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 298px; height: auto;"> </font></div><div><font face="Gill Sans"><img id="id_b131_8dfa_9bba_e6da" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-j8aOFI7tohM/WM1oj7okkwI/AAAAAAAAHYM/tmokJ4oDgXw/%25255BUNSET%25255D.png" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 298px; height: auto;"></font></div><div><font face="Gill Sans"><br></font></div><div><font face="Gill Sans"><img id="id_3e1a_f0a7_7cfb_e5a2" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-FYBgiWeC-3s/WM44g-9NqhI/AAAAAAAAHZI/_rMvVBXu27s/%25255BUNSET%25255D.png" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 298px; height: auto;"> </font></div><div><font face="Gill Sans"><br></font></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font face="Gill Sans">As well as the extensive ruins, this fascinating site includes a reconstructed cell that really does allow one to picture something of the material culture destroyed at the Dissolution. English Heritage deserve credit for their management and interpretation of this site. We received a lovely warm welcome and one of the staff members even took it upon herself to go and photocopy a sheet for us recording the mason's marks on the site.</font></span></div><div><font face="Gill Sans"><br></font></div><div><font face="Gill Sans"><div id="wrapperid_c962_c260_824c_9eb1" class="___smartHandler" style="position: absolute; width: 334px; height: 226px; z-index: 100; top: 4449px; left: 5px; border: 1px solid rgb(67, 135, 223);"><br></div><div id="wrapperid_c962_c260_824c_9eb1" class="___smartHandler" style="position: absolute; width: 334px; height: 226px; z-index: 100; top: 4449px; left: 5px; border: 1px solid rgb(67, 135, 223);"><br></div><div id="wrapperid_c962_c260_824c_9eb1" class="___smartHandler" style="position: absolute; width: 334px; height: 226px; z-index: 100; top: 4449px; left: 5px; border: 1px solid rgb(67, 135, 223);"><br></div><div id="wrapperid_c962_c260_824c_9eb1" class="___smartHandler" style="position: absolute; width: 334px; height: 226px; z-index: 100; top: 4449px; left: 5px; border: 1px solid rgb(67, 135, 223);"><br></div><div id="wrapperid_c962_c260_824c_9eb1" class="___smartHandler" style="position: absolute; width: 334px; height: 226px; z-index: 100; top: 4449px; left: 5px; border: 1px solid rgb(67, 135, 223);"><br></div><div id="wrapperid_c962_c260_824c_9eb1" class="___smartHandler" style="position: absolute; width: 334px; height: 226px; z-index: 100; top: 4449px; left: 5px; border: 1px solid rgb(67, 135, 223);"><br></div><div id="wrapperid_c962_c260_824c_9eb1" class="___smartHandler" style="position: absolute; width: 334px; height: 226px; z-index: 100; top: 4449px; left: 5px; border: 1px solid rgb(67, 135, 223);"><br></div><img id="id_1d50_7d5d_298d_377b" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dVtISLqWcBw/WM1okIPenYI/AAAAAAAAHYU/yg-lTdi0n34/%25255BUNSET%25255D.png" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 304px; height: auto;"></font></div><div><font face="Gill Sans"><img id="id_805e_bfa8_eb15_7c21" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-UgsTFx5h7BI/WM44hRM_ArI/AAAAAAAAHZM/RFZjhEAeEDs/%25255BUNSET%25255D.png" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 298px; height: auto;"> </font></div><div><font face="Gill Sans"><img id="id_7c76_1259_f9e3_d83a" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Ywa6C0-uC0w/WM1okbCew8I/AAAAAAAAHYQ/Kgwa7-DEzRU/%25255BUNSET%25255D.png" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 298px; height: auto;"> <img id="id_2daf_5649_24cf_266b" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--YeBgO45pZk/WM1oknmuOUI/AAAAAAAAHYY/mObCcv8s09g/%25255BUNSET%25255D.png" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 298px; height: auto;"> </font></div><div><font face="Gill Sans"><img id="id_c63f_e69c_b7a0_8f12" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-m3apJRbI2oE/WM46THQaIYI/AAAAAAAAHZY/xARN7sGYXw8/%25255BUNSET%25255D.png" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 298px; height: auto;"> </font></div><div><div><font face="Gill Sans"><br></font></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font face="Gill Sans">Effective interpretation can enable visitors to imaginatively step back into the past. </font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font face="Gill Sans"><br></font></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font face="Gill Sans">We will definitely be returning to this marvellous place - not least because they are in the early stages of constructing a new café to cater for visitors. The thought that the cake therein might prove to be as good as the priory site itself has our Ragged Rambler tastebuds tingling with anticipation. Huzzah!</font></span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-91261064106976238232017-03-17T19:03:00.001+00:002017-03-17T19:11:20.806+00:00St Thomas, Foxley<div><font face="Gill Sans"><img id="id_a502_fa9e_4146_5196" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-27Vafi57CsI/WMwzByxbYXI/AAAAAAAAHXI/w8WYOIWvCwQ/%25255BUNSET%25255D.png" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 298px; height: auto;"> </font></div><font face="Gill Sans"><img id="id_5f4e_cf3e_f1f9_df01" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-uv8j7xPrlXE/WMwzCPLnoLI/AAAAAAAAHXM/CJGdGk9GCGY/%25255BUNSET%25255D.png" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 298px; height: auto;"> </font><div><font face="Gill Sans"><br></font></div><div><font face="Gill Sans">It was marvellous! It was more than marvellous - marvellouser than marvellous even! It felt miraculous, as if we were wandering within a landscape portrait painted from the dreams of angels. </font></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-60684020426158203582017-03-17T18:22:00.001+00:002017-03-17T18:23:39.243+00:00Eye of Aunty<font face="Gill Sans"><br></font><font face="Gill Sans"><iframe src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/T4m-6bWynAg" width="500" height="281" id="y_id_9e16_c63b_d5b8_be89" frameborder="0"></iframe></font><div><font face="Gill Sans">I was relaxing within the soothing environs of a medieval church in the East of Norfolk when I felt a 'presence' - a curmudgeonly and defiant presence! With a shiver I turned and, lo, there was the eye of Aunty Gary staring at me through a small hole in the medieval roof screen. Gadzooks! </font></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-32973699153374020562016-04-29T16:48:00.001+01:002016-04-29T16:50:31.703+01:00The Grim Grouch!<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguJ0ooCFZpfFrPGw_xME4eGYfWI3C83dBxISHuhZ5R3Ed40d8AIJVcCgNMKrCAwGpj8gZHXYCaBUgX3gyutYsKIk7Auzm7vHb_oxWmJezyg4G1FfIO1UGExe1Vdt-aKy5yx-sJNEgJcvE/s640/blogger-image--1331431458.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguJ0ooCFZpfFrPGw_xME4eGYfWI3C83dBxISHuhZ5R3Ed40d8AIJVcCgNMKrCAwGpj8gZHXYCaBUgX3gyutYsKIk7Auzm7vHb_oxWmJezyg4G1FfIO1UGExe1Vdt-aKy5yx-sJNEgJcvE/s640/blogger-image--1331431458.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>I had been in a blue funk, but I knew not why. I tried to smile but could only muster a rictus grin. I walked, head down, towards St Nicholas Church, Little Saxham, Suffolk - and then I looked up AIEEEEEEEEEEE!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-83648992485374691352016-02-19T20:48:00.001+00:002016-02-19T20:48:55.179+00:00The Dolan Bar!<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5QN14fefdF59DZC52RXJMPF3ah11X8rD8qsBUKb67dSveZz3nMAj2Mvn1pkVrgJ8CBEPdi1mVUw0acriY29Aovlual25kp68rhYQpKQLEdrxhK5ell89C4YanEGhy1xy0jBEaPKNfPMQ/s640/blogger-image--447999370.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5QN14fefdF59DZC52RXJMPF3ah11X8rD8qsBUKb67dSveZz3nMAj2Mvn1pkVrgJ8CBEPdi1mVUw0acriY29Aovlual25kp68rhYQpKQLEdrxhK5ell89C4YanEGhy1xy0jBEaPKNfPMQ/s640/blogger-image--447999370.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>All church water storage enthusiasts will know the excitement of happening upon a water tank. So it was today when, in a location in the East of England, Ragged Ramblers saw a beautiful rivetted galvinised tank. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipSwMpc9baASp4opUS053cc-23GGsPduBUGesDl1Zb7uz1K0HYPkmyNb3fdeCbp-0VGhRsP3BWtBtWkz-4cvFR3dU3Bz_Mm9dvPzVjvLZlCeWz7Vf07Z6C_vw4CFwt-1tPYIvay3QhvxY/s640/blogger-image-832498668.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipSwMpc9baASp4opUS053cc-23GGsPduBUGesDl1Zb7uz1K0HYPkmyNb3fdeCbp-0VGhRsP3BWtBtWkz-4cvFR3dU3Bz_Mm9dvPzVjvLZlCeWz7Vf07Z6C_vw4CFwt-1tPYIvay3QhvxY/s640/blogger-image-832498668.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Having run our eager fingers over the smooth button Maxwell rivets, with a sense of rising excitement we noticed something special lurking under the water-line; something that all water storage tank enthusiasts dream of - oh it couldn't be... surely not! But it was! For what we had seen was one of the rarest and most cherished of water storage features - a Dolan bracing bar!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwO58ohbkYKxGlz9fHMzWd89aD0dG0-7_7QQXs9dy8hyphenhyphenq1VcLvcmHiczOlN5OHNsNJJbLj1HdmFY8bpsOuMkAKj7u8AJaaFbdDOAGd0Eal_ZYLnbdZ2EU3v5c8GN-nL07B4FVVUXDmFQ4/s640/blogger-image-435938927.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwO58ohbkYKxGlz9fHMzWd89aD0dG0-7_7QQXs9dy8hyphenhyphenq1VcLvcmHiczOlN5OHNsNJJbLj1HdmFY8bpsOuMkAKj7u8AJaaFbdDOAGd0Eal_ZYLnbdZ2EU3v5c8GN-nL07B4FVVUXDmFQ4/s640/blogger-image-435938927.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>"Dolan bar!" we shouted with jubilation as we danced about...</div><div>"Dolan bar, huzzah!"</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-64221812636391648752016-02-19T19:10:00.001+00:002016-02-19T19:12:21.041+00:00Sheep Deep Suffolk<div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What a fantastic sight it was today when Ragged Ramblers arrived at Holy Trinity, Middleton, north Suffolk. There they were, organic lawnmowers - a wonderful thing to see creatures, fringed by sunshine, roaming and grazing in between the long shadows of the tombs. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-60472816015227442492016-01-30T07:16:00.001+00:002016-04-01T22:07:15.508+01:00First Ragged Ramble of 2016!<div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A party of Ragged Ramblers explored some churches in north Norfolk yesterday. We began our day with a rendezvouz in a café in Holt ("who goes there!"). Sufficiently fortified with hot beveridges, off we went in search of some wonderful old places - and we found them! Now, what I'm going to do here is choose a single feature from each church that I found of particular interest. I know this won't be easy, but here goes...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">First of the day was St Andrew's, Langham (pictured above). Buffetting by the blustery gusts of the tail-end of some ridiculously named Atlantic weather incident, the cool calm of the church interior came as a welcome relief. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was intriguid by this crudely carved graffito etched into the east end of the font, reading 'Alice Nettles 1692'. I wonder who she was and what became of her; who carved this and why? It would be interesting to take a look at the parish register and in search of traces of her presence. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Next up was St Andrew's, Field Dalling. Peering over a lichen-clad wall at the church in the distance, I had a good feeling about this one. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">And I was not to be disappointed: a lovely welcoming church, bathed in light. </span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The story of a good church is ever-evolving. In 1995 a parishioner, Nick Hammond, was inspired to make this handsome chandolier when he saw the 'original' hanging in Colombra Cathedral, Portugal. The central orbs are made from turned oak whilst the ornate candles are crafted in copper. This is a labour of love; a gift from the heart. By the end of 2006 the piece was completed and during the Carol Service that Christmas, Nick presented the chandolier to the church. Wonderful! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Feeling invigorated and, increasingly, relaxed, we moved on to our next destination, All Saints, Morston. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I liked this church VERY much and it hasn't been easy to filter out much that delights and intrigues. However, t<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">he eye-catchter for me here are the carved details on the rood screen.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Although defaced, enough survives to get a sense of their former splendour. I have seen finer carving, but these honest little figures are charming. In particular, I love the feather-legged angel - who needs a face when you've got legs like that eh!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Our next destination was St Nicholas, Blakeney. The 'star' for me here is this fabulous seven-light thirteenth century window, one of only two such survivors in Britain. As you see (above) my fellow Ramblers were equally captivated by this vista. A bit special!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Our last stop of the day was at St Agnes, Cawston. Once again, choosing a single feature to highlight has been very difficult. After all, there is the magnificent ashlar-clad tower, the angel roof, the rood screen with doors still in place, some lovely medieval glass and more besides. However, the thing that grabs me above all others here is this carved niche. I just love the big-headed wodewose (mythical wild man of the woods) and dragon. I want to see both of these push free from their spandrels after all these centuries and scamper off into some sun-dappled glade of lore. This is where these figures belong - in the realm of the imagination. That is where they came from. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Finally, what with all the beauty, the wonder, the learning and discovery, the laughter, the poignant moments - well, it was simply too much for some of us...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Postscript: my travel companions may have noted an omission here - namely, Winterton. It was the glass what done it!</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-61984160057639061372015-10-16T21:42:00.001+01:002015-10-16T21:42:41.000+01:00Because they were smaller in those days...<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">As our Reader will appreciate, in ye olde days people were smaller. In fact, the further back in time you go the smaller those folks were. Ergo, the smaller the church the older it must be. Here we have a particularly ancient structure - certainly pre-Conquest! This is the original church now to be found within Thorington Church, Suffolk. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-TtLvDfDjONyfdG2e15N6ruZVcOYMGNkbI4-T_HXzgX40oXWcdeoW1hQ6zMF-XkIsbN4pjhcr7UY8XTxGi_YyjvD8b7On26veKQJyxcG1qjNOReKAdpYGPtw1bswCoC62CKmAnEugIz4/s640/blogger-image--634225510.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-TtLvDfDjONyfdG2e15N6ruZVcOYMGNkbI4-T_HXzgX40oXWcdeoW1hQ6zMF-XkIsbN4pjhcr7UY8XTxGi_YyjvD8b7On26veKQJyxcG1qjNOReKAdpYGPtw1bswCoC62CKmAnEugIz4/s640/blogger-image--634225510.jpg"></a></div>The Ragged Society of Antiquarian Ramblershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14512955306646644472noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-27097263303178362182015-10-03T22:41:00.001+01:002016-04-01T22:08:38.001+01:00Keith Vaughan - A Life Well Lived<div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Oh what a busy bee I've been this week. It began with me exploring some of the great Cistertian abbeys in Yorkshire; today, I've been perambulating with Ragged Ramblers in north Suffolk; on Wednesday, meanwhile, I travelled with Mr Many Coats to south west Norfolk. It is this latter journey I wish to focus on here. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">One of the churches we stopped at was Carleton Rode (pictured above). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Looks promising..." observed Mr Many Coats as we peered over the wall with a tingle of anticipation putting spring into our steps. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">To our suprise, upon entering the church we witnessed a hive of activity as people busied themselves with what turned out to be preparations for an exhibition of quilts and flowers (brilliant combination!). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Being of a gregarious disposition, we were soon chatting to the volunteers about their work. Although we have no hands-on experience of quilt making or flower arranging, we Ragged Ramblers give full respect to the makers of things - especially when - as in this case - it is an expression of community pride that brings people together. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Lovely surprise!" I exclaimed to Mr Many Coats as we stepped through the open north door and into the graveyard. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Within a few paces we met with more serendipity, for there before us stood a gravestone of elegant proportions that drew us towards it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">What a lovely tribute: a fine collection of adjectives for someone who was clearly dearly loved. I never had the good fortune to meet Keith Vaughan, but, on the basis of this memorial, I sure wish I had. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Having joked about the list of words that might sum us up once we are departed, we walked in silence, draped in the gentle warmth of Autumnal sunshine as we contemplated the generous feelings Keith had inspired. I can't speak for Mr Many Coats, but it certainly made me reflect on the importance of a life well lived. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">~ Munro Tweeder-Harris Esq. ~</span></div>
The Ragged Society of Antiquarian Ramblershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14512955306646644472noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-76515955375708631732015-10-03T12:03:00.001+01:002015-10-03T13:46:55.003+01:00St Andrews Church, Westhall, Suffolk<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In some churches a seven sacrament font like this would be enough on its own to justify a visit...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicAgjdAVmhyphenhyphenfsdhFaXg2K4PrM8JYSqC2x2yQoPJWijosODag3KLzGbdGtMRbHNJmp_wMwW8MlWVjJlWW9GHHvZccntY8BU-qdyZXCisAHHwQLCqUq5PFnWYUfxZwBLdgpVl60t-NOc3lI/s640/blogger-image--191645645.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicAgjdAVmhyphenhyphenfsdhFaXg2K4PrM8JYSqC2x2yQoPJWijosODag3KLzGbdGtMRbHNJmp_wMwW8MlWVjJlWW9GHHvZccntY8BU-qdyZXCisAHHwQLCqUq5PFnWYUfxZwBLdgpVl60t-NOc3lI/s400/blogger-image--191645645.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4hkPFlD4w3goAyerFjWztXsHfWYWepwcH1dMvt-qtVUbTvOCoZBP-GQGd7zcvg0O-EfQKkMSxkdcMhOqKM-j0x4JhfnJ8STZj8mdvsnXpWIB6kWgyT1lalMQbRG3HpwSYgt-BGaHhQDA/s640/blogger-image--215003597.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4hkPFlD4w3goAyerFjWztXsHfWYWepwcH1dMvt-qtVUbTvOCoZBP-GQGd7zcvg0O-EfQKkMSxkdcMhOqKM-j0x4JhfnJ8STZj8mdvsnXpWIB6kWgyT1lalMQbRG3HpwSYgt-BGaHhQDA/s640/blogger-image--215003597.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And when you look closely, some wonderful gesso work is revealed:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlIatozP8PwAqmXOx48e7XCMwzn3DIl6CWk7q_jaFtCLciVZnzf-8sLHwLNYm7ZItreLXPFi5y2Cvtb0YRfsRQNspysgXcYlXx4bg3oljMuyhDzhSbNup1rEClpTsiKsfqC3Gr04mamxQ/s640/blogger-image--1772646358.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlIatozP8PwAqmXOx48e7XCMwzn3DIl6CWk7q_jaFtCLciVZnzf-8sLHwLNYm7ZItreLXPFi5y2Cvtb0YRfsRQNspysgXcYlXx4bg3oljMuyhDzhSbNup1rEClpTsiKsfqC3Gr04mamxQ/s640/blogger-image--1772646358.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">However, here at Westhall Church in Suffolk there are SO many treasures that a Ragged Rambler hardly knows where to start! </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwfUpvnFDBJqwB2x7-H-xky64lsUy3vps4n6fQ7NCck_d8FC6e4ybmA8ZDqTKdhpLQwEmy1qjJmLpG0WZ5RFXhEesbYtgPcZodiPMl7lMMA08YdJ9dBpYMi53-CVFiaqzHFFlR36V1fxk/s640/blogger-image-168362440.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwfUpvnFDBJqwB2x7-H-xky64lsUy3vps4n6fQ7NCck_d8FC6e4ybmA8ZDqTKdhpLQwEmy1qjJmLpG0WZ5RFXhEesbYtgPcZodiPMl7lMMA08YdJ9dBpYMi53-CVFiaqzHFFlR36V1fxk/s640/blogger-image-168362440.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For instance, there's this stonking great Norman doorway with decorative surround...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUphwT4MqYE7SuQ1oQXGN26GgKeulNWbMQc-vcshxa0f4joDG7-cHJpI8HucEw89l1WG_p5pZuDIdomoPDds-ILqr03Nq4CK_9B9ltGS2mUxszfxL0Kffd3R8jZZij6JaUcDceIggEok/s640/blogger-image-1762389463.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUphwT4MqYE7SuQ1oQXGN26GgKeulNWbMQc-vcshxa0f4joDG7-cHJpI8HucEw89l1WG_p5pZuDIdomoPDds-ILqr03Nq4CK_9B9ltGS2mUxszfxL0Kffd3R8jZZij6JaUcDceIggEok/s640/blogger-image-1762389463.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Not to mention the lower panels of a fifteenth century rood screen</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3MluCSj-vQbF92cCbpiC9IR-2oiNhUXThPSpuaBhyphenhyphen9kQ_RtZ0qh67CYuyCEtMqBwbRvdb0Hh6p477RP-1P0v_UKU95ZGJ0FGOuUZngv1lN7dNrNz2PFqJCd8O6mseYOtstVqWNK4pems/s640/blogger-image-3601237.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3MluCSj-vQbF92cCbpiC9IR-2oiNhUXThPSpuaBhyphenhyphen9kQ_RtZ0qh67CYuyCEtMqBwbRvdb0Hh6p477RP-1P0v_UKU95ZGJ0FGOuUZngv1lN7dNrNz2PFqJCd8O6mseYOtstVqWNK4pems/s640/blogger-image-3601237.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But it doesn't stop here...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7_otP8GJ6Eg8Gn56QLIOkDgtsfs4GRF-DNu4-4l93w8sH_byr-A4IzW-9Y7539_ooZjYVQUaBdwupT_7Jq15Hni4I0OPqVkKmMo5a0-bjhubg7l5mFgJBIpyczXwpC2sih7uo1zpayFE/s640/blogger-image-1234612076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7_otP8GJ6Eg8Gn56QLIOkDgtsfs4GRF-DNu4-4l93w8sH_byr-A4IzW-9Y7539_ooZjYVQUaBdwupT_7Jq15Hni4I0OPqVkKmMo5a0-bjhubg7l5mFgJBIpyczXwpC2sih7uo1zpayFE/s640/blogger-image-1234612076.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lovely ancient oak benches replete with compass drawn 'daisywheels'!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And talking of graffiti archaeology, here's a bearded man carved into the soft ashlar of one of the piers. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Oh yeh, there are medieval wall paintings as well. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFq2NfvA5InaVOWR3o-pSuKaItlgkAjJo6wwDSbTr_jN9iFW32nXGg4vuTD2eYfLCfKPsSsz46KSH9Tvz1X_6ogyU83CI0-QG_SLnhWi9WpPpFFxO0lnAT7jcKttfnPPupE2ZahHn_KuM/s640/blogger-image--2106235122.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFq2NfvA5InaVOWR3o-pSuKaItlgkAjJo6wwDSbTr_jN9iFW32nXGg4vuTD2eYfLCfKPsSsz46KSH9Tvz1X_6ogyU83CI0-QG_SLnhWi9WpPpFFxO0lnAT7jcKttfnPPupE2ZahHn_KuM/s640/blogger-image--2106235122.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Finally, as I returned to my flask I had a thought: do bats crap in their sleep?</span></div>
The Ragged Society of Antiquarian Ramblershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14512955306646644472noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-47840559917291880982015-09-29T22:57:00.001+01:002015-09-29T23:02:10.196+01:00Fountains Abbey<div>
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Over the past few days I have been treated to a veritable feast of ruined abbey sites as I explored a little of Yorkshire's rich medieval monastic heritage. </div>
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Having seen images of the cellarium at Fountains Abbey on many occasions, my antiquarian heart skipped a beat at the site of arcades of green-hued ribbed vaulting receding into the distance. Such beauty from such functional form - a humble, humdrum storage area in the pre-Dissolution abbey. </div>
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And how I must've gawped as I stared upwards, wide-eyed with wonder at the skeletal remains of the abbey's soaring bare, bleached bones. </div>
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The transience of all earthly things; the vanity of kings; the greed of ambitious men; an irretrievable past... tantalising...</div>
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The Ragged Society of Antiquarian Ramblershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14512955306646644472noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-67464541332344382502015-09-23T21:47:00.002+01:002015-09-23T21:47:40.405+01:00The Ramblers LexiconOccasionally, when the weather is less than kind, Rambling is turned inwards towards the Society archives.<br />
One such event has happened recently which has uncovered a tome thought lost to time.<br />
Wrapped in fine grease proof paper, crisp brown and wonderfully rustly, a book of significant significance that the findees could not believe it.<br />
Upon the front cover, written in a most beautiful hand, reads the title, The Society Lexicon.<br />
A book devoted to long forgotten syntax, words and idioms.<br />
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So for the first time since the last time, we present a few tasty snippets from the book.<br />
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Fiddypop ~ noun. A sweet carbonated beverage, usually served to young boys in shorts and striped shirts<br />
Cronzpuddling ~ verb. to pour tea from one's flask with removing the lid. An urban myth.<br />
Twarfdoy ~ verb. eating a piece of cake whilst simultaneously slurping tea.<br />
Puddling cocky ~ a local idiom to describe a rebellious youth urinating against a wall<br />
Vagaryparp ~ noun. To make a (sic. rude) noise whilst sitting in a leather chair<br />
Podcroak ~ noun. The noise emanating from evil ponds.<br />
Churmshuffle ~ verb. To walk towards a corner and immediately and abruptly turn.<br />
Pondermutter ~ colloquialism. To talk about evil ponds.<br />
Pityclunk ~ noun. The sound when Aunty Gary drops a pork pie on the floor.<br />
Fesnyinghonk ~ Coll. Noun. A group of laughing Ramblers<br />
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These a just a small sample of the incredible gems within the book. I'm sure you'll agree that this discovery is worthwhile and something that should be aired regularly.<br />
Huzzah!<br />
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<br />Old Yellow Teeth Normanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236198408571631024noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-63483418537889163872015-08-17T20:00:00.001+01:002015-08-18T07:49:39.277+01:00Our Cherished Albums<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After a days antiquarian perambulations, we Ragged Ramblers like to thumb through some of our favourite Long Playing stereo records and relax of an evening, transported to a better place by the exquisite music. Here are some of our most cherished albums:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilif6dKGFW3C11TRF1fosmHfJ3GUzE9gcs1uf8-1AE6sJRR1JdBry6ZcsrtzYVlb9-3c0oEtYpf_0bYNnCS8WECV7kmsGuxaZLfuH4XJOANkqQk0e2bsBqQzNI7CYoaOU5TVLNmmlV0aQ/s640/blogger-image--1225958300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilif6dKGFW3C11TRF1fosmHfJ3GUzE9gcs1uf8-1AE6sJRR1JdBry6ZcsrtzYVlb9-3c0oEtYpf_0bYNnCS8WECV7kmsGuxaZLfuH4XJOANkqQk0e2bsBqQzNI7CYoaOU5TVLNmmlV0aQ/s400/blogger-image--1225958300.jpg" width="376" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">'Dorothy Sings Squires' is a delightful musical journey incorporating electric spoon percussion and yodelling, punctuated by some subtle dub beats. Marvellous!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1woJCMa7CXEFjZzP-U3TxQ_s_at9FwBI9yM1nCLaD42U6CdZ3yHuCqVKf380IqA4y0HsvmSqDunQ15U7ZqpjgtI4AlTm-QWyQDKBbihVq6kNudYJrHYwBm6j-pcATDn5A16TSYvK_1Cc/s640/blogger-image--2137394759.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="389" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1woJCMa7CXEFjZzP-U3TxQ_s_at9FwBI9yM1nCLaD42U6CdZ3yHuCqVKf380IqA4y0HsvmSqDunQ15U7ZqpjgtI4AlTm-QWyQDKBbihVq6kNudYJrHYwBm6j-pcATDn5A16TSYvK_1Cc/s400/blogger-image--2137394759.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> 'Where Will I Shelter My Sheep?' is a unique blend of traditions, bringing the gutteral rasps of a Norfolk sheep botherer, Murdo Fluckett, together with the ethereal chorus of an oriental Geisha duo. The result = Marvellous! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">'The Galileans' need little introduction really. Since bursting onto the East Anglian Holiday Camp circuit during the late 1950s the Galileans have consistently confounded audiences seeking quality entertainment. Who can forget their triumphant performances in East Norfolk in the summer of 1971 that were captured in the legendary cassette known as, 'The Hemsby Sessions'? Marvellous! </span></div>
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The Ragged Society of Antiquarian Ramblershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14512955306646644472noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-19738022921251046512015-08-07T09:23:00.001+01:002016-04-01T22:10:52.985+01:00A Perambulation of Cahors Cathedral<div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here is the west front of the cathedral in Cahors in the south of France</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Ujn39Wdjfd1xb9NCbqrrOSMlvVf1pZ0fRe6sWigh5kwd8Vc-44Pjfy7Qd4oEF8xvBhtNg3clB6w9E9t5ZLgW860AnHKFL145FZTOEKoE41-o-Erks7rL4FK-MTl6iGAG5dLvQvhnO7A/s640/blogger-image--1524473902.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Ujn39Wdjfd1xb9NCbqrrOSMlvVf1pZ0fRe6sWigh5kwd8Vc-44Pjfy7Qd4oEF8xvBhtNg3clB6w9E9t5ZLgW860AnHKFL145FZTOEKoE41-o-Erks7rL4FK-MTl6iGAG5dLvQvhnO7A/s400/blogger-image--1524473902.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Stepping within, my attention was seized by the medieval wall painting high up on the interior west walls. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisW8mfknj39NXpCNDGb39a8joKm8cLelUmBUFNr7C1ejaCcfzHmL7PRXUJQWKkRRrYaSg24DcZ3sMvHtW3PUve0e2YVe7HIDkHw7pEOo-NE8ekNLw3InXJr7YvkBf4xolBBVvB8vujUAw/s640/blogger-image-1354121901.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisW8mfknj39NXpCNDGb39a8joKm8cLelUmBUFNr7C1ejaCcfzHmL7PRXUJQWKkRRrYaSg24DcZ3sMvHtW3PUve0e2YVe7HIDkHw7pEOo-NE8ekNLw3InXJr7YvkBf4xolBBVvB8vujUAw/s640/blogger-image-1354121901.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Looking towards the east, I took this photo with the water in the font offering offering reflections. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Cahors Cathedral has two huge domes, one of which is pictured here. Personally, I like the fact that it is an imperfect circle. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The east end of the cathedral presented an impressive display of stained glass. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiptRpUkHx4oTjPLICClK9hNIXyMGWNocKAJIWw0a705JPAEqCt-7_81BhAS_05CKYxj6Lk-nlqi3EkZUM9i0PqdhRZBPy3x-dA9mUOCwbaZfSgY-GVpeA1COF5aRBqLZVkpex6a74rfT0/s640/blogger-image-1919591736.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiptRpUkHx4oTjPLICClK9hNIXyMGWNocKAJIWw0a705JPAEqCt-7_81BhAS_05CKYxj6Lk-nlqi3EkZUM9i0PqdhRZBPy3x-dA9mUOCwbaZfSgY-GVpeA1COF5aRBqLZVkpex6a74rfT0/s640/blogger-image-1919591736.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Whereas most of the side chapels where a bit too buffed up for my liking, I admired the shabby grandeur of this one. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Finally, back outside, there were some outstanding corbels to admire...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_lkwEGF1YsEe4DT4Rwku3izY5vbTSiHtjKk171QDT8m0CKrXV0-4ImkxpTMT0-Hr7izVwLhvK_3GecqIRik5rwuewNFqS8J_sC5v2V5KChY5Ib5g571hXeqzLWSVEzclpf5e62obEo04/s640/blogger-image-1968340004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_lkwEGF1YsEe4DT4Rwku3izY5vbTSiHtjKk171QDT8m0CKrXV0-4ImkxpTMT0-Hr7izVwLhvK_3GecqIRik5rwuewNFqS8J_sC5v2V5KChY5Ib5g571hXeqzLWSVEzclpf5e62obEo04/s640/blogger-image-1968340004.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Master Mason who carved this one really knew what he was about! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was fantastic to ramble a while through southern France, but I have to say, I did miss a good pot of tea. Now I'm back I will endeavour to brew up some more delectations to share with you here. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Huzzah!</span></div>
The Ragged Society of Antiquarian Ramblershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14512955306646644472noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-66120392798218527372015-05-03T18:37:00.001+01:002016-04-01T22:09:46.188+01:00St Clement, Burnham Overy<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC_gvjd24kB8GGwVQmXxWvv2Q475ITitAkRyzrVifGuXLGVsd3Shxr2KpghkMj0C7w0xp-jTOF-MvkLBU6rM4x7QkYQaRixgMl0329lxL8RqQ6SgxShVougmX_n-KcdEqr03b0uOLxeOY/s640/blogger-image--1338584786.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC_gvjd24kB8GGwVQmXxWvv2Q475ITitAkRyzrVifGuXLGVsd3Shxr2KpghkMj0C7w0xp-jTOF-MvkLBU6rM4x7QkYQaRixgMl0329lxL8RqQ6SgxShVougmX_n-KcdEqr03b0uOLxeOY/s400/blogger-image--1338584786.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Having visited St Clement's at Burnham Overy on the north Norfolk coast on a number of occasions I was excited to be back. Entering the graveyard I paused to look at the church elevated on its hillock. Fringed against a lovely blue sky interspersed with roaming clouds, it looked like a permanent part of the landscape. However, as we know, churches - like everything else - are subject to change. So, in Norman times it would have been a cruciform church with transepts. The substantial squat tower dates from that period. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS_fnaYHBHmKqbnPfXWVXjwx2fDsJjCxL4zoImSeM1jLwHG8cbcKGUVsn3AYO0DLTpUQYwTWHaFhQJMavM5t_4QfJUZHpsQ_O4H_A1S8SSN1-lFs91CIZty1rTchkRbR0EYk6-QEQzlhw/s640/blogger-image--1560943046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS_fnaYHBHmKqbnPfXWVXjwx2fDsJjCxL4zoImSeM1jLwHG8cbcKGUVsn3AYO0DLTpUQYwTWHaFhQJMavM5t_4QfJUZHpsQ_O4H_A1S8SSN1-lFs91CIZty1rTchkRbR0EYk6-QEQzlhw/s640/blogger-image--1560943046.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Walking up the path I was pleased to note an early 18thC gravestone memorialising Isaac Overman in the most rustic of lettering. I had to wonder if it was a palimpset; possibly previously part of a medieval mensa (altar slab)?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Walking into the church my eyes fell upon this - presumably 15thC - St Christopher. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The chancel is a wonderful space, full of golden sunlight and atmosphere. On the right is the narrowest of aisles. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Stepping over some cherubic angels my graffiti radar went off as I noticed a lovely dedication etched into the glass.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">From where I stood I could hear fragments of a conversation taking place between my travel companions, Mr Many Coats and Aunty Gary, followed by sniggers and guffaws.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Curious, I ambled back into the nave and looked up at the object of their amusement - a lascivious, leering lion and its privvy part. This is, we assume, what is meant by a Lion Rampant!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Stepping back into the sunlight I enjoyed a slow walk around the church and looking up, noticed the fossilised gable with the steep pitch characteristic of a thatched roof of the long demolished Norman transept. </span></div>
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The Ragged Society of Antiquarian Ramblershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14512955306646644472noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-33162361686090050332015-05-02T17:47:00.001+01:002015-05-02T17:51:33.951+01:00Bells of Blue<div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Oh what a wonderful wander we had among the bells of blue at Stratton Strawless today. This open woods event is very dear to Ragged Ramblers' hearts, it traditionally being the curtain raiser to the Ramblers summer season. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Oh what slabs of cake we consumed, so moist of crumb and delectable! What tea we sipped to slake our thirst. I bought a rubber pig and an old ink well with a lid resolutely rusted into place. I also acquired this small tome...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's 'Norwich: a sketch book' by E.V. Cole. However, the owner has added this pleasing little ink drawing of Pull's Ferry - a lovely personal touch. There are also some little pencil studies in the marginalia...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For me, the only thing that soured the day slightly was the appallingly inappropriate behaviour of my solicitor, Tony Spunk. I won't sully your day by describing his antics and utterances. Instead, I shall dwell upon those bells so blue...</span></div>
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The Ragged Society of Antiquarian Ramblershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14512955306646644472noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-8635123041613041822015-04-28T21:20:00.003+01:002015-04-28T21:36:25.763+01:00Gadzooks, it's Queen Victoria!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCZ9GDxiu7e2CvhtfGOY0MtOfm8OHUI8EouYfo9q9WJAf43emg_02EJ8VfEzHBKWzuTPPWOoHw_Vwkt2pncehmR5_enaIubcVOrhSq9H2p-97GKQXC34N3LF9m3WKDaC3k2D7bUFjo_AE/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCZ9GDxiu7e2CvhtfGOY0MtOfm8OHUI8EouYfo9q9WJAf43emg_02EJ8VfEzHBKWzuTPPWOoHw_Vwkt2pncehmR5_enaIubcVOrhSq9H2p-97GKQXC34N3LF9m3WKDaC3k2D7bUFjo_AE/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" height="400" width="400"></a></div>
<br><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With great expectation,</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Mr. Many Coats and I cantered into St John the Baptist Church, Stiffkey. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At first, we thought we were alone. However, we soon noticed a small figure sitting at the front of the church with their back to us. Hesitantly, we made our way to the chancel and when we turned to look at the person sitting there we were... we were - AMAZED!</span><br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGxEINoU2jyspKiLgC1nd5w0OAd1biMExDmtbVZQa7TixIdO-rE54JcqjpLG6R4cryPSSTUuMxWNIz0lLwLe6HnEzWuataJdHI4wMBHKAna8X5v7dI7kuJS0tZrjwUn7C4UxpS2GSaFiQ/s1600/IMG_4421.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGxEINoU2jyspKiLgC1nd5w0OAd1biMExDmtbVZQa7TixIdO-rE54JcqjpLG6R4cryPSSTUuMxWNIz0lLwLe6HnEzWuataJdHI4wMBHKAna8X5v7dI7kuJS0tZrjwUn7C4UxpS2GSaFiQ/s1600/IMG_4421.jpg" height="400" width="358"></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There, before us, sat Queen Victoria herself! </span><br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNsf-Jk6k7imJMZ8m5KZZxS5mv8Wn14ubT3JH4eG4wXNGyMZ0t8SsTCfkqZE1vJqx8c8dYEEx-HwhYPt03yrv1bwd54im8mGQofDQ9CAKt9KlzWw8xhsPwkuk5iN-VOOsJ8C8Llzd0J98/s1600/IMG_4422.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNsf-Jk6k7imJMZ8m5KZZxS5mv8Wn14ubT3JH4eG4wXNGyMZ0t8SsTCfkqZE1vJqx8c8dYEEx-HwhYPt03yrv1bwd54im8mGQofDQ9CAKt9KlzWw8xhsPwkuk5iN-VOOsJ8C8Llzd0J98/s1600/IMG_4422.jpg" height="400" width="400"></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span></span></div>Although we were a little tentative at first, she was actually very approachable and allowed us to photograph her without complaint. We seized upon the opportunity, realising as we did that only this visual evidence would persuade the sceptics that this was really happening.</span></span><br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdvcLlTOSjWNea9RSbl2tw2X5rYeNLzeqH5xN65E34yMiriqydpW4Rprr-WHVL7OVk2y1lCJuVge1BWrMkAGYr6xJQuddketEINZGyiw-slJA7oxsJCAtaqaFNajQG8AxK-IN2_hrIwTo/s1600/IMG_4506.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdvcLlTOSjWNea9RSbl2tw2X5rYeNLzeqH5xN65E34yMiriqydpW4Rprr-WHVL7OVk2y1lCJuVge1BWrMkAGYr6xJQuddketEINZGyiw-slJA7oxsJCAtaqaFNajQG8AxK-IN2_hrIwTo/s1600/IMG_4506.JPG" height="400" width="400"></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span></span></div>Queen Victoria talked amiably as she made her way down the nave aisle and, pausing by the font, began to take in the scent of the flowers placed upon it. I was astonished at how short she was - I mean, really tiny!</span></span><br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmT4a1LgrOXaMSso8FIzqHAnwCl60SDIVZZgYDUyM45bwk7YBjb7YKh2NOMHVvvzk4xTwBzz-5K2KCDdXAHFt4-ThU5XP3dbRqQzqLZISFLBUj0sx9UhCBk3bUBuLYl9Ki7sQpLujkxPA/s1600/IMG_4507.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmT4a1LgrOXaMSso8FIzqHAnwCl60SDIVZZgYDUyM45bwk7YBjb7YKh2NOMHVvvzk4xTwBzz-5K2KCDdXAHFt4-ThU5XP3dbRqQzqLZISFLBUj0sx9UhCBk3bUBuLYl9Ki7sQpLujkxPA/s1600/IMG_4507.jpg" height="400" width="400"></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span></span></div>Having enjoyed the heavenly scent of the blossom she slowly made her way to the porch entrance. All seemed to be going well until Mr. Many Coats - who had been eating boiled eggs all morning - let out a rasping fart from just behind her. If the sound had offended her ears, the stench that followed it was beyond a mere breach of Royal ettiquette. The fact that this was emitted at her head height can only have compounded matters!</span></span><div><font face="Verdana, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Verdana, sans-serif">"Ever so sorry marm. Just a small tummy shame" said Mr. Many Coats. </font></div><div><font face="Verdana, sans-serif"><br></font></div><div><font face="Verdana, sans-serif">However, the deed was done and it was time for us to leave...<br></font>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0O_-JOCyfgeNfrwt-9qIFo_ni1KBt25hIbCyAdBHqhL2z-t6AGvFink-yjHflg-cQBZaG7fCA5nORps2hJSYgdxH-KHcrxhXLpu6lH8Lx04yGG7iCXPlkVkCNBesKh7RUvGXpOkCS3YY/s1600/IMG_4511.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0O_-JOCyfgeNfrwt-9qIFo_ni1KBt25hIbCyAdBHqhL2z-t6AGvFink-yjHflg-cQBZaG7fCA5nORps2hJSYgdxH-KHcrxhXLpu6lH8Lx04yGG7iCXPlkVkCNBesKh7RUvGXpOkCS3YY/s1600/IMG_4511.JPG" height="400" width="267"></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span></span><div><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br></span></span></div></div>The Ragged Society of Antiquarian Ramblershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14512955306646644472noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6107938531564502891.post-90013623219558331462015-04-26T12:45:00.001+01:002015-04-26T12:45:24.493+01:00Sir Munchmellow Cubely-Blunder<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLuLCQjT3HwJ2E2b8GSe0EJDX6bbtr9sqz0hyKJ8HukmALB-yNR_U0jv96euymgWu8Qva683Z5qTIpLr2-R4t9K0vLqCni-0zYXWhJbfz9A7ERDO0IKC5rDOEaCB-7HhNKMC_gJeHzWfM/s640/blogger-image-1679249531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLuLCQjT3HwJ2E2b8GSe0EJDX6bbtr9sqz0hyKJ8HukmALB-yNR_U0jv96euymgWu8Qva683Z5qTIpLr2-R4t9K0vLqCni-0zYXWhJbfz9A7ERDO0IKC5rDOEaCB-7HhNKMC_gJeHzWfM/s640/blogger-image-1679249531.jpg"></a></div><br><div>One of our esteemed members has been kind enough to share this mid-seventeenth portrait of his relative, Sir Munchmellow Cubely-Blunder, with us here on the Ragged Ramblers blog. In his days at Cambridge Munchmellow earned the nickname of 'Thud & Blunder!' in recognition of his huge losses at the cubes (dice) and for his tendency to suddenly collapse with a thud when asked to do anything that required logical thought. What a fine gentleman! Huzzah!</div>The Ragged Society of Antiquarian Ramblershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14512955306646644472noreply@blogger.com2