Sunday 2.

 

Above is snapshot of Ann outside scrabble club. We climbed in to the car and motored up to Norwich to have dinner with friends Cath and Derek. Mutual friends Diana and Terry, also from Suffolk, were there when we arrived. The three couples meet up regularly. We have a good deal in common, and always pick up the threads very easily. Cath is a very good cook. We had the usual at this time of year- cold meats, a variety of salads, pickles, and new potatoes. This was followed by puddings - Cath had made a quite delicious apple and nut confection, which, because of the nuts, my chief medical adviser decided against on my behalf - I know it was delicious, though, because she allowed me a taste of hers, so I had a portion of a quite superb lemon cheesecake (also made by the fair Cath) with cream. There was also a glorious looking fresh fruit salad, to which nobody really did justice, and the cheeseboard met with the same fate. Derek said he didn't mind this at all because it meant that he was going to eat well for the next few days. Derek had opened a very nice Cabernet Sauvignon to go with the meal, but as, for various reasons, he and I were the only ones drinking it, we cleared the bottle between us. Derek loves (and writes) poetry. He says he can never remember any poetry, but he knows I usually can, especially when in my cups, so he tries to remember titles and subject matter, and encourages me to hold forth. I oblige, normally until Ann decides that everyone has had enough, and delicately hints at their poetic repletion by hoofing me one under the table. Last night I confined meself to giving them the middle verse of Sir Henry Newbolt's Vitae Lampada, a few chunks of Gunga Dinn, and a morsel of Matthew Prior. Derek wanted more, but I think Ann was probably right. It was, as far as I can remember, a lovely evening, and we got home about midnight. Ann, you'll be relieved to hear, drove.

Sunday 1.

 

Handsome old house glimpsed across a village green at Ash Street (unfortunate name) in the wilds of Suffolk.

It's been a hectic weekend. Friday started with our usual cafe church visit, followed almost immediately by the funeral of a friend of ours, Tricia, in the same church at midday. I'd prepared (sartorially) for this slightly awkward quick change from social to funereal, by going to church in flannels and a dark blazer, and a black tie in my pocket, so that a change of ties rendered me suitably dressed for the occasion. It was a sad funeral, in that, though she was in her eighties, Trish had retained a very good sharp mind (I regularly tried to help her with crosswords - she favoured the Saturday Telegraph's General knowledge one, and usually completed it). She had a short illness, and we'd visited her briefly on the afternoon of the night she died. Her daughter 'phoned Ann a day or so before the funeral to ask us to the lunch held in the garden of her home after the service. Twenty or so of her family and friends attended - we didn't stay long though, I always think post funeral gets together should be mainly family.
On Friday evening friends Hilary and Eileen came to supper. We gave them cold meats, salad, and new potatoes boiled with sprigs of garden mint, followed by rhubarb and ginger crumble with custard and/or cream, folowed by a cheese board and coffee. We then spent the rest of the evening playing two excellent games of scrabble. Hilary and Ann drew the first game, and Eileen won the second, both very close games.
On Saturday morning we motored over to Semer where I reinstalled the pendulum on a modern long case clock, which I'd been mending. I don't really like doing up modern clocks (I am after all an ANTIQUARIAN horologist - which refers, or should do, to the clocks being antique, rather than to the horologist being antique), but as I rather liked the lady owner of this clock, I'd agreed to do it up for her. Went well.
On Saturday afternoon I went to scrabble club and played the usual three games we manage to fit into two hours. The third game was a draw between Joice and meself. A draw is fairly unusual at scrabble, but that's two draws in two days. Ann met me outside the club at just after 4p.m. See our next thrrrrrrilling (sorry, just being ironic) instalment.

Thursday 4.

 

Here we are, Stig, as promised. Photo of the scruffiest pet shop in East Anglia, though the interior could be lovely, not having been changed in around two centuries. I took the photoes last year, it looks as if the original Stig could be lurking in it. Sic transit gloria pet shop, although it doesn't much. Must knock off now. Goodnight all.

Thursday 3.

 

Sorry I had to cut the previous post short, but it was worthwhile. My dealer friend 'phoned to make an appointment for an hour hence, kept it and eventually purchased a fair selection of brass (mainly candlesticks) and pewter.
The photo above is for the benefit of my new commentor Stigofthedump, to see if she can identify it. It will require an effort of memory. To help, I will post a photo of the interior. Back in a minute.

Thursday 2.

 

Snapshot of our supper party. We really made the most of the evening sunshine. Eventually Diana made a tray of tea and coffee, and when we'd drunk it Michael said it was time to move into the house, where a quiz had been arranged. It was just beginning to get a little chilly, so we gladly complied. We drew lots for the two teams and the quiz begun. The first round was general knowlege - fairly simple questions, e.g. 'Where would you find three of the Monarchs illustrated wearing moustaches?'. The second round consisted of questions about our hosts and their family, and the answers, we discovered, could be found by examining our surroundings carefully (photoes, etc.) The third round was about their garden (or mini estate, as I thought it) which meant we all went outside again, and learned a good deal more about our surroundings. Over the three rounds the two teams' scores were very close, and the prize, a small box of good chocolates was opened and handed round to all. Altogether, it was an excellent summer evening's entertainment. Nobody walked home as we all packed into the three cars available and were home just after eleven. Got to knock off now. A dealer friend's on the 'phone wanting to talk brass and pewter. More later.

Thursday 1.

 

Yesterday evening we had a meal with friends. They live on the edge of the next village in a tiny, end terrace house, which they've extended and made very comfortable. They have a large garden, mostly at the side of their cottage, which looks out over open country to the front, with rising woodland, and meadows behind them. They've made a lovely job of their half acre or so of garden, so that it's mostlygrass and a few mature trees, with a small flower garden, immediately behind and adjoining the house. Ann, and two other ladies walked (about two miles) and I picked up another lady (and all their, and our, edible contributions to the feast) and drove over. We overtook the three walkers about half way there, and I stopped and offered them a lift, which they all spurned. I then offered them a race to Michael and Diana's, which offer they (rightly) ignored. All the food (salads, cold meats, quiches, puddings, etc.) was arranged very attractively on the kitchen table, and we were requested (and complied readily with the request) to take a plate and help ourselves. We then took the food outside to a table laid ready in the garden. Michael had made up jugs of Pimms, and we sat down ten to the table. A perfect summer evening meal was had by all.
Ann took the above photo of your blogger leaning on the garden gate in the evening sunshine. See our next installment.

Wednesday.

 

Took the above photo this morning. Baby blackbird, waiting for its father (to theleft of the picture, and at present being run off his feet) to feed it. Please ignore my rude and derogatory remarks in yesterday's blog about long case clock. Came down this morning just after six (early service on Wednesday's) and found the clock had been going well all night. Spent the rest of this morning, and some of this afternoon, putting the strike train on the clock to rights. Hope to finish the job tomorrow. We are now on our way out to have a meal with friends. I was telling granddaughter Lucy a few moments ago that the last time we ate with these friends, we ended up (about a dozen of us) playing rounders (a gentle form of baseball, Lori) on their meadow. It's probably too cold an evening for that tonight (though it's nice and sunny- wind's in the North), but we'll see. Shan't be in till late, so I'll wish you all a very good night now.
Warm regards, Mike and Ann.
P.s. If you read my comments, you'll find there's a new one on yesterday's blog by Stigofthedump (which is the nom de plume of our eldest daughter).

Tuesday 2.

 

I have spent today wrestling with an ill natured grandfather clock, or that's what it feels like. Until half an hour ago the clock was winning easily on points, but I now think I can see daylight at the end of the tunnel (gosh, I'm really mixing my metaphores over this one- I blame the clock). I shall leave the clock running when I go up to bed in about five minutes, and I shan't know till morning whether I've wasted a day, or done some good.

Oh, by the way, the clock pictured above is not the one I've just been cussing about, but a good, well natured, and well behaved clock, that gave me no trouble at all, that I've illustrated to remind meself of why I do this, and that most old clocks are a pleasure to deal with. Goodnight everyone.

Tuesday 1.

 

Snapshot of roses growing over a neighbour's fence.
Got to go and tear recalcitrant grandfather clock apart now. More later perhaps (if I win). Mike.

Friday 2.

 

But I'm glad to report our roses are starting to bloom. This one is (if I remember correctly) a Ferdinand Pichard; it's a lovely looking 'striped' rose with a superb scent. It's very similar to the old Rosa Mundi, which is one of my favourites. Last year this one gave us one rose and a massive sucker from the rootstock. I've just had to cut off two more suckers, but it's full of buds, so I think it'll do better this year. Most of the others are in bud. Hopefully I'll photograph some more of them later. In the meantime- Goodnight all.

Friday 1.

 

Our Christmas cactus is having another brainstorm and is blooming again, apparently convinced it's Christmas. It's now bloomed in early November, in April, and now in mid June. I suppose it thinks that if it blooms often enough, it will get it right eventually. Law of averages and all that. We'll see.

Wednesday 3.

 

P.s. Snapshot of your blogger in garden this afternoon, dressed to go and cheer up elderly lady in hospital.
Again, goodnight all.

Wednesday 2.

 

Dinner was (as pictured) roast duck with sage and onion stuffing, redcurrant jelly, and all the fixings i.e. mashed potatoes, roast potatoes, cabbage, celery, carrots, etc. Followed by apricot crumble and custard. Deeeluscious - well, you know what I mean. Dinner was followed by a very good, two handed, game of scrabble. I scraped home by a few points, but only just. Very close run game. Lovely evening. Goodnight all.

Wednesday 1.

 

Snapshot is of a corner of the garden containing our tumbledown tool shed, taken this morning.
Went to early service this morning (7.30 a.m.) and stayed for light breakfast afterwards. Pottered in workshop this morning, had light lunch in garden, enjoyed sunshine. This afternoon we motored into Ipswich to visit friend Barbara, who's in Ipswich hospital, following a slight heart attack (her second). Found her sitting on her bed, fully dressed and looking quite cheerful. She's waiting to be transferred to Papworth hospital near Cambridge, which specialises in heart conditions. Her surgeon had originally been intending her to return home today, but changed his mind and now wants an expert second opinion. At least they're taking it seriously. They should do! Barbara organises our Saturday Scrabble Club, and cannot be spared. I'm being called upstairs for supper. More later perhaps.

Sunday.

 

Walked to Church this morning, lovely morning. We both sang in choir. Long service - Baptisms. Stayed on for coffee and buns. Walked home - still a lovely day. Sandwich lunch, then changed into me scruff, and did a little gardening, mainly clipping box hedges. I've always been told that box hedges should be clipped on Derby Day, so it was a bit late, but the garden looked better for it. Then adjourned to workshop and got on. Went back upstairs at 6.40 p.m. and found a violent storm was raging - horizontal heavy rain sheeting in from the west, trees thrashing about in great gusts of wind. See above snapshot from back bedroom window. Oh well - me late father used to say "never trust English weather or English weather forecasters". I think he was right.

Saturday 3.

 

These three characters lie in Marnhull Church. The chap in the middle was, in his day (the monument was made circa 1470), the Lord of the Manor of Marnhull. On either side of hime lie his wives. The sheer detail of his armour and their fashionable dresses, cut in alabaster, is fascinating.
Goodnight all.

Saturday 2.

 

The countryside in Dorset. Doesn't give a good impression though of how hilly it is (in comparison with Suffolk I mean).

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.

Wednesday 2.

 

Quick snapshot, taken with flash late yesterday evening, to show how well stocked our tiny garden is now looking. We've been here three and a half years, and the garden has developed from being a small area of waste ground into a real garden.
More a bit later in the week.

Wednesday 1.

 

Above snapshot taken from the carpark behind our garden yesterday evening.
Been a long day today. Got up at 5.45 a.m. and spent the day at an antique fair in Long Melford. Didn't buy anything, but fairly good business was done anyway. We plan to nip down to Dorset tomorrow to pick up a clock I shall be doing up. May show it on blog eventually if 'doing up' is successful. Only seen photoes of it, but it looks an interesting one. Look forward to making its better aquaintance. Nearly supper time, so Goodnight all.