I only wrote seven blogs in that particular month, so what to choose, there is this one on dyes and thistles, and even today I laugh about Moss who so delicately lifted his leg against this beautiful thistle plant. I wonder what happened to 'Miss Whistle', she was an American who came to England every now and then to see her mother.
"Such a nostalgic trip back into English history are church fetes, they embody all that is good, kind and giving in people who are of the christian faith. So where did this fete take place? It was at Ingatestone in Essex, we had gone to look at the prehistoric stones , and the sight of stalls and a marquee in the church graveyard was a surprise. I bought a corn dolly from a man who was patiently weaving them in a corner, his wife sat at the front of the stall with baskets of them to sell. We sat in the marquee and drank tea and ate homemade cakes, one a little rice krispie chocolate cupcake that fell to pieces, a reminder of all those children's cakes I had baked in the past for parties. A gentle soul talked to us of circle dancing that evening and closing the marquee flaps. Up on the tower a man's head peered over as he let out a rope for a bucket mysteriously being pulled back and forth.
In the church great vases of flowers beautifully arranged, and local paintings on display for sale, the vicar happily walking amongst his flock, ordered a ploughman's lunch in the marquee. Genteel England in all its beautiful old English charm, slowly dying but never gone - for to lose this facet of our world would be like losing a great jewel of the past - a gentle muddle-headed way of past traditions enacted in a church, that once not so long ago, recorded our coming into the world, marriages for life and the final end as the dead were laid to rest in the earth. The small parochial way of life, community and certainty wrapped round the central hearth of the religious church - paganism still quietly lurking in the graveyard with a prehistoric stone that had never been removed"
I chattered on to myself, in a world that was changing. Today I listened to the fact that Elon Musk was buttering up Trump, I think it was on X. I have wondered whether to join this notorious website, but I have a feeling it is far too evil for me so will refrain.
I have been reading Bensozias writing on the war between Russia and Ukraine, and this somewhat surprising move by Zelensky into what Bensozia calls 'The Ukranian Offensive Update. All I can see and feel is the death of the soldiers as they once more fight pointless wars over territory.
So to complete the 2008 August, I of course gathered the Saxon history of Broomfield church in Essex, and found a poem by R.S.Thomas, I know a favourite of Weaver. But he was such a miserable old bugger!
What a lovely small essay on church fairs. Let us all hope tings swing back around from where we are, that Musk and Trump become only unpleasant memories.
ReplyDeleteIt was strange coming across that essay but it reminded me of the day and how hot it was. I also found a photo of Monty a dog belonging to a dog walking friend. A deer chaser who could disappear for hours whilst we were out hunting for him.
DeleteI'm trying to focus on the joy in the world so I have no use for Musk or Trump. I love the photo of that thistle. I think we consider them weeds but they really pretty!
ReplyDeleteYes the pair become more ridiculous every time they open their mouths Ellen. I think it is the regularity and colour of the thistle that makes it so beautiful.
ReplyDeleteI think those little fetes are so charming. So sweet. What a wonderful distraction from the world.
ReplyDeletePeople work so hard for them as well Debby.
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