Sunny saturday- quite a lot of wanderings, so click on 'read about..' to discover extent of these..
Wandering about in the sunshine
The first warm and sunny day of a false spring led me to an early start for a Saturday.
The snowdrops I planted are now beautifully out, spiking up around the winter pansies in the pots at the front of my house and on my iron table.
I had parish magazines to deliver before setting off for a wander, so I broke my rule of ‘no driving in the village’ as my delivery patch this quarter was over the hill and far away. Slight exaggeration, but the magazines are quite heavy if there is a biggish patch to cover. Quite a few of the recipients were out in their gardens or returning from dog-walking, or just standing at their gates having a chat with a neighbour. On Wednesday evening I had been to a meeting at the British Legion about a problem affecting these particular residents, so some I hadn’t known before now are now more familiar. All we talked about though was the nice weather and how we would make the most of it.
By midday I was out of the village and at Alders Carr farm, hoping for a farmers’ market, but it was the wrong week. The farm shop has some good food, however, and I stocked up on little English Coxes apples and some nice English pears (my favourite). I bought quite a bit more as well, being easily tempted by good food. I stopped at the pottery, and was tempted again, this time by some lovely mugs - one with a blackbird and one with a hare. I was not permitted to buy, however, as I had already told the potters that I am saving up for one of their beautiful plates, but the new washing machine (old one sometimes leaks) was this month’s purchase. (..’ before we sell you one, you have to show us the receipt for the washing machine..’ Helen said.) I left with a map drawn on a piece of wrapping paper, showing me where to pick up a good path to follow the river down from Needham Lakes. Done by the hand of an artist, with clear, bold lines. I can always tell, even when people who don’t think they are artists sketch out something to describe a route, or a design. I know that I am not, because my hand and eye work to quite a different formula when I do something similar. Not self-doubt or self-effacement, just the facts. My expression is most effective in words; spoken as well as written, now, too.
Having said that, a few friends and I are organising a Sunday afternoon in the upstairs room of the pub, for crafting. As some of us are largely unskilled but enthusiastic, we hope to lure in some of the older ladies who operate at a more expert level, so that the result as well as the process will be enjoyable. The best analogy I can draw about my present skills level in this direction is with Jake, the waggy golden lab that comes in the pub; full of enthusiasm, but a bit confused when it comes to anything remotely testing. I am sure this will change though, once I start the construction of my fabric ‘green man’ wall hanging. I am hoping that I can achieve this with glue, rather than needle and thread.
Back at Needham Lakes, I did get a bit of a walk in the end. There is a map at the site, and there are two directions to walk, each following the river. The better one would have been towards Ipswich, but I followed the path towards Needham market, crossed over and walked back along the other side of the bank. This is just a little river here, but I had been told that it had been used for many years to transport aggregates on barges to Ipswich. I shall go back and follow that route next time. The Lake itself is a bit of a duckpond, with a play area etc, and very busy; so any future visit would really be just about the river walk.
After eating an awful lot of the stuff I’d brought from the farm shop, I thought about a slow way home. I tried generally, but not too hard, to work my way back to Hadleigh, which I always like to visit, as it is a nice little town and has a good church and the Deanery Tower. Like Sudbury and Lavenham, it is too far from main roads to have become too developed, but big enough to have kept- for now- a reasonably viable and lively centre and local economy.
I did not manage to get to Hadleigh, but instead stopped (inter alia) at Bramford, just outside Ipswich. This was accidental, as I missed the turning to Colchester, and went up a little street to do a u-turn. I turned into a little cul-de-sac and saw the church at the end (as well as a couple of good houses). The accompanying photo shows the North side, which is quite amazing, with lots of little pinnacles topped by various stone figures, carved in great detail. There must have been quite a lot of money here at some point in the fifteenth century.
As I went up the path, I was overtaken by a man with a set of keys, who was about to lock up, but he showed me round instead. Retired now, he and a few other retired friends have been involved in a lot of direct action, including going up to clear out 150 years worth of dirt, debris etc from the top of the bell chamber up in the tower. There are six bells, 5 cast in Colchester in 1632. This is a very grand church with a lot of interesting features. I didn’t want to stay too long, as the man with the keys was in the middle of decorating, at home, so I think a further visit will be necessary.
The first thing I noticed inside was the stone rood screen, massive, with 3 arches, 14th century (looked up afterwards). I tried to imagine it with a rood loft jutting out above it. There is a hammerbeam roof in both chancel and nave, with carved angels on the hammer bits. The angels have been de-winged and decapitated. There is a great deal of graffiti carved on the stonework, at the sort of height you’d be if you were seated, mostly initials and dates from late 16th, early 17th century. Beyond the south aisle, the space looks as if it was once a Chantry chapel, as it has its own piscine; no squint, although I thought there might be one, but it looks as if it is just some kind of niche for statuary. The church was built in the 13th century by monks from Battle Abbey, and there is still one Y-tracery window from that time.
The tower is a later addition in the C14th and the last bay of both aisles was cut into at this point, to make the extension. There is quite a big spire, added in the eighteenth century. The font is at the west end, in the tower extension, and has a huge, intensely decorated wooden, early sixteenth century cover. The man with the keys told me that he’d seen one font cover that was lifted for baptisms by way of pulleys. I asked him about this one and he showed me doors that open up, that are held in place otherwise by an iron hook and loop. He tried to open them up to demonstrate, but couldn’t quite work out how to do it, and I didn’t encourage too much, as would not have liked to have been responsible, even indirectly, for any damage to something very rare and special. I have seen a number of ornate font-covers and have to say that I had never really thought about the matter of how access to the font would be achieved. I like the idea of it just remaining in place and opening little doors, as it would be quite enclosed then, and not too exposed and alarming for the baby being baptised.
Well, enough has been written I think for today, it is time to think about what Sunday holds for me. I shall stay in the village today and enjoy the river, before listening to the match this afternoon. Carling Cup Final, Aha!! Happy trails