Monday.

 

This is my cellar (though I'm told by the experts that it's an undercroft) where I work. It dates from circa 1450, although the end wall, built of flint cobbles and small brick stringing, is considerably earlier. The main part of the house (above this) dates from cica 1540 to 1580.
This morning drove into town and resumed work on the French clock I mentioned on Saturday. This time took it to pieces, and did various rearrangements. Oiled pivots and pallets, let down the two mainsprings (being French had going barrels to both trains- both overwound) and put it all back together again. I think we've cured it for the time being. Owner was pleased and gave us beans, apples, and figs, all from his garden. He also didn't kick at the fee I asked- which he seemed to think very reasonable. Took about an hour and a half today. Good morning's work.
In afternoon went to Sudbury. I needed two pots of ink for this machine (one black, one coloured). Ann needed to shop for groceries. I took one or two snapshots of bits of Sudbury (to be shown here over the next few days), then we met up with friends Terry and Diana at the Secret Garden and had tea. Terry has been in hospital with diverticulitis- lost a good deal of weight. Had this meself some years ago, so could sympathise. Told him he must discover what foods to avoid (the hard way). In fact, the only thing that can cause a slight recurrence in me is nuts, though I do have to avoid offal (which I love) as this triggers gout. Some bits of growing a little older are not much fun. Supper is calling. Or rather Ann is calling, on supper's behalf, to announce its imminent arrival. More blog later, perhaps.