Saturday was the Anthony Powell Society quarterly London Pub Meet at the Audley in Mount Street, just off Park Lane. Although attended by fewer than usual we had a jolly time with the some fun and eclectic discussion accompanied by a few beers and some food. And it is the food which brings this week’s photograph for we discovered one of our number about to demolish his, rather dilapidated, chapeau.
Click the image for a larger view Well I’ll Eat My Hat London; November 2014
Contrary to initial appearances this crust was the topping for a Venison Pie, which I was assured was excellent.
This image appears by courtesy of one Robin Bynoe, who challenged me to make it my weekly photograph.
Another from the archives this week. I’m horrified at how long it is since we were in Axmouth, Devon. This is a shot of their delightful churchyard, just across the Axe estuary from Seaton. And I remember having some gorgeous Dover Sole for lunch in the pub.
This week’s photograph is another from our recent trip to Norwich. Somehow that day we were running slightly ahead of schedule and we had 20 minutes to kill before Sunday lunch. So in true style we set off to find Bawburgh village church.
Click the image for a larger view St Mary & St Walstan, Bawburgh from the South-East October 2014
The church of St Mary & St Walstan, Bawburgh is one of 124 existing round-tower churches in Norfolk. It’s now fairly plain and much restored but it’s an old church: it hosted the burial of Walstan in 1016 and the (possibly) Saxon round tower was rebuilt in 1309. However it does still have a rather nice fragment of wall painting, an old rood beam and some delightful fragments of medieval Norwich stained glass.
Late on a sunny Sunday morning this was a rather nice way to while away those spare 20 minutes.
Oh and as usual we had a splendid Sunday lunch just across the river at the King’s Head, Bawburgh.
[As an aside, opposite the pub there is a water mill which was the original site of the manufacture of Colman’s mustard. When I was a graduate student I played cricket with the academic who owned the mill.]
Another in my occasional series documenting some of the underbelly of Britain. Britain which we wouldn’t like visitors to see and which we wish wasn’t there. The trash, abused, decaying, destitute and otherwise buggered parts of our environment. Those parts which symbolise the current economic malaise; parts which, were the country flourishing, wouldn’t be there, would be better cared for, or made less inconvenient.
This is the junction Elder Street with Commercial Street, E1, just north of Spitalfields Market.
This week’s photograph is special. Because yesterday was my mother’s 99th birthday, which makes her the oldest person I know about in the family for some 300 years.
Of course we went to see her. She lives in a really excellent care home just south of Norwich, in a tiny village in the middle of the country. Amazingly she is all there mentally; just very frail and almost totally deaf. What is even better is that she is still doing things: reading, doing little watercolour paintings of flowers, knitting, making soft toys, and watching the occasional bit of television. She is always up to try new things: someone has given her several pieces of board for watercolour painting; and we bought her a needle-felting kit because it is something I think she’s never done — and there’s a good chance she’ll love it. OK her hand isn’t as steady and accurate as it used to be but she still enjoys painting all her own greetings cards!
Dora on Her 99th Birthday East Carleton; October 2014
All the girls in the home love her. They’re always bringing her little things to paint. And yesterday the cook made her a special birthday cake.
I think she’s having a wonderful holiday! And she certainly seems to be enjoying her age; it doesn’t seem to be a burden, although the frailty and deafness are annoying. She still has vivid memories of her childhood and things she’s done through the years.
I just really hope she makes 100 as I think as well as being a huge milestone, she will actually enjoy it, in her own quiet way.
Time, this week, for another round of pussy porn yawn.
Not a great shot, but at times like this it is a question of shoot and hope. AS you’ll all guess this was Tilly mid-sunbathe on the study windowsill.
Click the image for a larger view Tilly Yawns Greenford; September 2014
Another in my occasional series documenting some of the underbelly of Britain. Britain which we wouldn’t like visitors to see and which we wish wasn’t there. The trash, abused, decaying, destitute and otherwise buggered parts of our environment. Those parts which symbolise the current economic malaise; parts which, were the country flourishing, wouldn’t be there, would be better cared for, or made less inconvenient.
This is the walkway to the offices of one of our local solicitors! (Yes I was sitting in the safety of the car.)
This week’s photograph is one I took earlier in the summer. One? Well no actually it is four images because this is a montage of some excellent mosses growing on the top of a headstone at Churchill, Oxfordshire (just outside Chipping Norton) and from where I have ancestors in the 18th century.
Mossy Grave Montage Churchill, Oxfordshire; May 2014
Yes, for the eagle-eyed amongst you, I know the images don’t quite align — they weren’t taken with the idea of aligning them in a montage — I felt the individual images didn’t really stand alone but were too good to waste! Nothing wrong with that; it’s only one step removed from David Hockney’s joiners.
