There was just one church service in the benefice this morning, in our smallest church in the six parishes. It stands alone in a field, with a track leading to it, a mile or so from the village it serves. It has no electric supply and is heated and lighted by gas and candles, and someone pumps the organ by hand*. It is warm and welcoming and a pleasure to visit.
The Sage expected that I’d cycle. It’s three or four miles away, I suppose, which may not sound a lot, but bear in mind that I am fat and unfit and it’s winter. However, I clambered awkwardly into the saddle and set off, promising to bring the papers on my return some three hours later.
And so I did.
I have rewarded myself with a slice of toast and Patum Peperium – Gentleman’s Relish, if you prefer. Not quite so rewarding was the soup, which was made from six carrots, two sweet potatoes, a red pepper, a chunk of ginger and two oranges, quartered; all cooked in ham stock and then liquidised, the oranges having been removed. I think it was those last that didn’t quite work. It’s all right, but I suspect will prove a little unusual for the Sage’s taste, and I’ve at least four pints of it. Still, no need to wonder what I’ll have for lunch for the next week.
I think, since I am unusually free for the time of day, I’ll pop down to the pub for a pint of John’s home-brew.
*Look, please read no dodgy meaning into this at all. I am not being crude or suggestive here. A church organ is powered by bellows, usually electrically operated, but in this case manually worked with a lever.
Do you know, I hadn’t noticed the possible innuendo there, until you pointed it out.
Blessed are the pure in heart, etc…
Sadly, dear heart, not everyone is as sweetly innocent as you are.
Send the soup to me!
Here you go, John, a big warm bowlful. A pint of local beer to go with it? 😉
It never crossed my mind for the tiniest moment. . . I swear!
You men are so capricious. If I’d said nothing I’d have had all sorts of salacious comments. No wonder I adore you.
you’re fat huh? 😛
hope u have a great year ahead, z – i’m glad to have known you.
Getting thinner, however, Dh.
Me too, honey – happy new year
It never crossed my mind until you crossed it for me!
Gosh I must be slipping; no dodgy meaning occurred to me. Put it down to somnolence rather than purity. I was up at 3am doing a post.
Is dh going somewhere? Before I drop off here’s wishing you a really happy year for you and yours.xoxoxox
I don’t think so, Pat, and I hope not – a moment of introspection rather than valediction, I suspect.
Another 3 am blogger. Most of us come to it sooner or later.
The church sounds lovely.
It’s simple and quite plain – a nicely carved reredos, but no stained glass. There are wrought iron candle-holders at the end of each pew and some memorial stones on the walls – it’s a tranquil place with a lovely atmosphere.