This week let’s have something cheering and summery from the archive. This was taken on a scorching hot day in Beer, Devon almost 10 years ago.

Flowery Front
Beer, Devon; July 2006
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Not enough snow here (at least yet) for any good winter shots, so another cat shot this week.
Tilly the Cat having been deprived of two live mice earlier in the week then proceeded to try jamming the printer with the catnip variety. Fortunately the mouse ran off onto the floor first.

Another from the archives this week. This was taken in October 2013 when Noreen and I travelled on the paddle-steamer Waverley down the Thames from London (Tower Pier) to Southend and back. We left about 9am on a cold misty morning, but this cleared to a lovely warm sunny day. The final leg of the return journey was in a rather chilly twilight, but it did provide some good photo opportunities …

Another from the archives this week as I wanted something suitable unto the season, but it isn’t nice and frosty (like it should be) so nothing new on the horizon. So here is one of I think the earliest digital photographs I took — it was so early I’ve lost the date but from memory it was actually a February and was pre-Autumn 2005 as we use this as our Christmas card that year.
These roses were in our garden. We have this magnificent pink rose which just flowers and flowers and flowers from mid-May onwards. And whatever year this was it carried on flowering until the buds got well and truly killed off by heavy frost.

Another from the archives this week, and yet more pussy porn. This is our Tilly cat when very young (probably about 12 weeks) shortly before she came to us from our next-door neighbours. Tilly is now over 2½ and a well-grown sturdy small peril.

One day last week we made a flying visit to Anthony Powell’s former home, The Chantry, to see his son John. And to make the reacquaintance of the resident cat, Jake — “that’s not a cat, that’s a tiger”; yes, although he’s very slim he’s a big cat. And he is very affectionate: he believes that everyone, especially visitors, is there for him to lay on — oh no, not on your lap but on your chest and shoulder; purring all the while like a Harley-Davidson! And I pity any poor piece of prey that encounters those claws, for they are very sharp. Here Jake is subduing Noreen.

This week another from the archives — actually taken many years ago.
Along with the the font, this wall painting (in the SE chapel) is one of the treasures of St Augustine, Brookland. The painting has been dated to the 13th century and depicts the martyrdom of Thomas Beckett in Canterbury Cathedral on 29 December 1170.

One from the archives this week. I spotted this some while back. This is the woodland burial park where my father (at the time) and subsequently also my mother are buried. My father would have been turning in his grave — which is only about 50m from this notice.
