Saturday 1.

 

On Thursday morning we set off down to Dorset (West country, Lori, just before you get to Summerset, Devon, and Cornwall) to pick up a small grandfather clock I had purchased. It's a bit of a long story but originally it was to have been delivered, then the vendor was rushed into hospital, so we decided that we'd drive down there. On the way down called in at one or two antique shops and bought bits and pieces, including a rather rusty sword.
Ann had booked us into what turned out to be a very pleasant bed and breakfast establishment, and we arrived there just before six in the evening. Our hostess made us a pot of tea and recommended one of the two pubs in the village for our evening meal. Before we went out I asked her about a very handsome long case/or grandfather clock on the landing outside our room. "That hasn't gone for years", says our hostess, "although I wouldn't want it to strike, It might keep the guests awake". I pointed out that there was a strike/silent facility in the arch. After we'd had our tea and biscuits, and just as we were leaving to walk across to the pub, we came across our host on the landing, and I asked his permission to play with the clock. He very sportingly joined in, and we removed the hood, and set the clock in beat, which was all it had it needed, and set it going. About five minutes work.
We then went out to find the recommended pub. It was just across the road from our front gate, so we wandered over and ate there. The food served was top end of the 'pub grub' market. We had it at one of the two tables outside the front of the pub as it was a lovely sunny evening, and the pub face south west. The service, too was excellent. Ann had chicken, and I had roast belly of pork (the crackling was done to a turn). Vegetables were fresh and good. We both indulged in a glass of the local bitter to wash it down. We then both had a pudding. Now normally if you eat at an English pub, the puddings tend to let the meal down. Well, it wasn't so in this case. Both were quite obviously made on the premises and were fresh from the oven. I had a coffee, and the bill for the whole meal, drinks and all, came to twenty two pounds. Of course I gave our very attentive young waitress twenty five pounds and told her that the change was for her- and that it had been well earned. We then went for a walk to find the area where we had arranged to pick up the clock in the morning, then walked back to our room. Before we retired for the night I checked that the clock on the landing was still going, turned the strike/silent hand to silent, and made sure that this hand was working effectively. In the morning I was glad to see that the clock was still going, and had kept very good time. We had an excellent fried breakfast, settled the score, and I told our hostess how to keep the clock on the landing happy. She was astonished to hear that it had been going all night, and was likely to keep going. It always amazes me that people will allow good clocks to stand moribund for years in the blind belief that 'it hasn't gone for years, so it will probably never go again'. Good clocks are like us; they are better for being kept at work, doing the job they were designed to do.
We then went to collect the clock we'd come down to pick up, payed for it, bought another clock from the vendor, and whilst packing them into the car, the clock vendor saw the sword I'd bought on the way down, so I sold it to him. We then drove back to Suffolk, making a detour to call and see Sarah and the children. We'd bought some cakes en route, so had tea with them, and eventually arrived home and unpacked the car at around 9.30 p.m. A heavy, but thoroughly enjoyable two days.

P.s. The above photo was taken inside the church in the village where we'd stayed (Marnhull -pronounced locally as Maarnle). The pillar was made in circa 1180, and the faces round the capital are supposed to be portraits of the stonemason's labourers.