I lay in bed listening to the wind and rain outside for a couple of hours. Scully sat at the end of the bed and stared at me. I could just make her silhouette out in the darkness. At half four I give up on bed, so go down downstairs and being chased down the stairs by both cats, I feed them and so I have peace and quiet.
I put the computer on and have the radio on quiet, Jools sleeps on upstairs, until at six she realised there's a light on downstairs, so comes to investigate. I had already been awake for four hours, and I think looked like it too.
Anyway, Saturday, should I sulk around the house feeling sorry for myself, or just make the best of it? I chose the latter.
What do you want to do today? Jools asked. Churches.
Which ones, she sighed.
The ones we didn't get round to last week.
OK, so I made a list, added a couple of others, and we were set. Though best not set out too early as the churches wouldn't be open.
We have breakfast, more coffee.
And at nine, we set out for Ashford, then out onto the Romney Marsh to Brenzett. We passed a church last week, which I had been to before, but thought I hadn't been there for a while, assumed it was Brenzett. It wasn't, it was Snargate. So we could do that as well.
Brenzett church is in the middle of the village, set back from the main road, and right away I remembered being here a few years back with John Vigar. Oh well, may as well take more shots.
I go in and thanks to the overcast day, it was so gloomy in the church, I looked for light switches, but can't find any, just managed to turn all the heaters on. Apparently, the church has no artificial lighting, so would have to make the best of it. Thankfully the cameras are cleverer than I am.
It is just a two mile drive to Snargate, just off the main road again, as I parked the rain began to fall, so I hurried into the building, turn all the lights on I can, and start snapping.
That done, I go back to the car so we can double back and go to Ruckinge. I thought I had been there before, but not sure. I failed to check my notebook with all the visited churches listed; that'll teach me.As soon as we came into the village I knew I had been there, twice at least. So when I found the door locked I wasn't that bothered, especially as two small but interesting churches lie just a mile or so up the road.
Bilsington, like most Kent churches, is ancient, but this is more memorable than most as you have to either walk or drove through a farmyard to get there. I park on the road, Jools decides to stay in the car again, and I walk through the muddy farmyard, over uneven concrete blocks to the hedged path to the church.
Most memorable, for me, at the church is the two graves beside the path for Mr and Mrs Christmas. Yes, sad but true, Christmas is dead. Those and the church bell hanging in a little shelter by the south door. Inside the church is so small that its hard to think I missed anything last time I came, but redo the shots again, at least they'll be full frame now I suppose....
We were going to go to Bonnington next, but in a change of plan, I saw that Newchurch was down the road, and I was pretty darned sure I had only seen the outside of this, and that nearly a decade ago. So I said to Jools, Newchurch and home.
Newchurch is on the marsh, and a deep drainage ditch runs beside it, meaning you have to cross a bridge to get to the churchyard, not the only marsh church for this. And the tall stone tower is clearly leaning, quite alarming really.
I was greeted by a handsome cat sitting on the lychgate, who allowed me to stroke it. It purred its approval. And from there I saw a young woman come out of the church, it was open!
I go inside and see a number of trestle tables set out, turns out they were having an arts and crafts day for local children, but this did mean the church wa sopen, and I could get my shots, as I pretty sure I had not been in before.
I was as good as my word when I got back to the car, after stroking the kitty cat again, and said we are going home, even when I saw the door of Dymchurch slightly ajar, I was tempted to stop, but my word is my word.
We drive on to Hythe then back to Folkestone and home.
We had called at Sainsbury's in Hythe, and I bought a large pork pie which we had for lunch, went down a treat, though I did stay away from booze as I wanted to listen to the football in the afternoon.
Now, you know I am a Norwich fan, and through the years I have kinda accepted we're not as good as Barca or Citeh, and a good result is usually followed by a bad one. Or two Well, two four-one wins meant we much be overdue a thrashing, especially as we were away to improving Swansea. Indeed in the opening exchanges Swansea had the upper hand, then out of the blue one of their defenders deflected a cross into his own goal; one-nil to City. Then their keeper threw the ball to our midfielder, he slotted the ball in the corner of the net. Five minutes later we add a third.
This is incredible stuff.
Although Swansea pulled one back, Pukki scored a forth with a smart turn and shot to wrap up the points for City.
City had scored four goals in three successive matches for the first time in 85 and a half years. And were still top of the table.
Wow.
By eight I was done for, and just gave up and went to bed after downing the leftover beer from last weekend's Sunday lunch. Please let sleep come....
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