Saturday 10th February 2018

To quote the song, how good to be back home again.

Indeed it is.

Scully had slept beside me all night, and I had also s;ept without stirring, some nine hours, and so woke with a spring in my step, or it could be just that it was the weekend. Even better was that JOols had had a Tesco delivery the day before, so we did not need to go out for croissants, back, milk, etc. We have a coffee, then an hour later another with warmed through croissants.

The question was what to do with the day, and it seemed it was churches and meat. In that we needed to go to Preston, and I had made a mental note to visit Eastry and maybe Woodnesborough.

The forecast was for sunshine in the morning, and rain in the afternoon, so better get out and make the most of it! It is only a ten or so minute drive to Eastry, the main road to Sandwich now bypasses the village, and I have only been to it once or twice before. The narrow streets and lines of parked cars make travel through the village, but then we have to add our car to the parked ones as, well, we needed to get out.

Most of the shops in the centre have been converted to houses, but tthere is a fine looking pub, chippy, newsagent and coffee shop. So, not too bad. And just down a lane lined with listed buildings is St Mary.

I guessed it would be open, as it was. We got inside through the odd porch at the west end of the church at the base of the tower. Inside a warden was hoovering, and apparently none too pleased to have visitors. I'll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine, seemed to be the message. So I went round snapping away with the 150mm, then the wide angle and finally the fifty. I took about a hundred shots inside, and another 50 outside. The church has some fine wall paintings over the cancel arch, and has a rare 28 year dial calendar on one of the pillars holding the roof up of the south aisle. I snap them all, and then again with a different lens.

The warden had gone by then, so I was able to take my time and go where I wanted to get the last of the shots of details I felt I needed.

When we walk back to the car, a truck had ignored the road sign warning of a width restriction, and whilst locals shouted at it, the driver inched forward threatening to take two houses out. The air was blue, as the escort, who should have known better swore at the locals.

We went to the car and drove out back onto the bypass and then to Sandwich, taking the Canterbury road before turning off at Nash.

We didn't need much, but fancied shoarma on Sunday so needed some lamb. And I took the opportunity to get some steak and a beef joint for roasting another weekend.

The other side of the main road, and through the village of Ash is Woodnesborough. Its name hints at its great age; it is either Saxon or Viking for Woden's Hill, and there is evidence of fortification at the highest point of the low hill the village sits on.

The church was open too, so I can redo many of the shots I took on Christmas a half dozen years ago. We find some fantastic 13th century tiles in the chancel, that had not been thrown out during the inevitable Victorianisation.

We could have done more, but there is other weekends, and as it was just past midday, we were getting hungry, so we drive back via Whitfield and the hundreds of new houses filling the former fields.

THere is football, rugby too on TV and the radio, and there is writing to do. So, I while away the afternoon, as usual following Norwich via Twitter, who salvage a draw at Derby scoring and missing a penalty. There is then the England v Wales rugby match to watch. Or the first half, as time is getting away, so I record the second half, go to do some phys.

After working out, I cool down then make dinner, breaded chicken and lentil dahl, which went down very well with a pint of Danish IPA.

I can then watch the second half of the rugby, England win. Just. Then have a shower, watch the Championship highlights and somehow its bed time already. How does that work?