Saturday 11th November 2023

Saturday, and I was feeling a little better. Better enough to realise how shit I had felt the previous two days, and needing something to break the cabin fever, soo it would be churchcrawling.

Off to Tesco for supplies, and delight that "party food" has appeared, and although there would be no party at Chez Jelltex, there would be party food to munch on during the evening game.

Back home for breakfast, and Jools decided not to join in the church fun, instead stay home to do overdue chores.

And so the great round of revisits to record details of the stained glass that I previously missed continues.

Elmsted not Elmstead.

Off Stone Street and down past Yockletts Bank and along towards Hastingleigh, before taking a lane back up the down, which double hairpins to the village above, and by the village crossroads is St James.

A huge church for what is a farm and a handful of houses now. I parked beside the road, in a narrow strip between the tarmac and where the verge turned to swamp, got my bag out of the car and walked through the gate, noticing better the shapes of the grave markers repurposed for the path, some even dates being still visible.

The church is cool and still, I had done a pretty good job before, windows excepted, so got to work snapping and moving about. Sun poured in through the mostly clear glass windows, making it seem a place of divine light, even if the sun shone from the south, not the Orient.

Back to the car, and down the down, back to the main road a a quick climb up to Hastingleigh, where the church is a good mile outside the village, beside a farm. It does, at least, have a large car park, so no parking in people's drives or blocking the lane through the village.

A poor wren was trapped inside, but I made it even more desperate than it had been when I entered, and try as I might I couldn't get close to it. And the two fine windows, one of St Michael the Archangel, that I came out especially to photograph had boards up outside, so they could barely be seen.

The rest of the Victorian glass is of a very fine standard, so record all that.

Next church was a twenty minute drive away, Mersham, which can be seen from the train just before entering the outskirts of Ashford, its spire pointing into the morning skies as I zoom past en route to Denmark.

Here there is a most extraordinary west window. Cathedral sized, though it has lost of of the ancient glass that filled it, fragments remain, and I wanted to record those.

Outside a lady was clearing leaves, and inside another was refreshing the floral displays with poppies for services on Sunday.

The window is a wonder, and a burden, as it lets in so much light, that during the summer months the cinema nights they have cannot take place.

I very much like Mesham, and received a quite wonderfully warm and friendly greeting from the two ladies.

One last church to try would be Nackington, back near Canterbury, where the small church has some of the oldest glass in the country.

It was quite a hike across the county to get there only to find the church locked. This was a church that was always open before COVID, and was a major disappointment.

So, back home through Bridge and onto the A2 back to Dover, to get back at midday, just in time to cook lunch.

And settle down then for an afternoons groaning at the football on the wireless.

Norwich were away at Cardiff, and after four straight defeats, hopes were low. But City took the lead, only to concede twice before half time, which suggested the same old story.

But in the second, City played better, and in the closing ten minutes, scored twice to nick the three points.

Well.

The party food was aptly enjoyed as I watched the evening game.

My cough had eased hrough the day, though there was a few comebacks, which were cured with either a small glass of wine or some cough syrup.