Saturday 28th December 2019

The weekend, apparently.

We can only tell by what's on the radio, and even then you can't be sure.

Back in the 70s, families used to buy the Christmas editions of the Radio and TV Times, so we could plan our festive viewing., films especially. Not sure when we stopped, but the days of looking forward to the big Christmas film and Festive edition of Top of the Pops seems so last century. We watch very little TV these days, and the thought of trawling through pages and pages of TV listings we're not going to watch seems pointless. Which does mean we do miss some things we would have otherwise have watched.

But that's how it goes.

We looked in the fridge and larder and decided we had enough food still for a few days, so apart from getting some milk, we needed nothing.

A few weeks back, John mentioned the ancient church opposite his daughter's new house in Ham, and I got kinda obsessed with seeing inside it. Turns out if was deconsecrated back at the end of the 60s, and was sold off. I mentioned to John I would like to see inside, he did some digging and in the end walked up to the church porch and knocked.

A fine gentleman opened the door and let he and Jen in, and were given a grand tour. And he said I could go along at any time to take shots. And so Saturday was the day we would try.

Ham is a tiny village, a hamlet (ahem) really, and would not be known at all were it not for the fact it is near to Sandwich, and just outside the village there is a signpost pointing the way to Ham and Sandwich.

Anyway, after breakfast we dove over to Sandwich, then along the narrow lanes to Ham, and then to the church. We parked outside and went to the door, knocked, and a fine Scottish gentleman answered.

Sadly, he was expecting guests so we could not take shots, but we talked for a while, twenty minutes about the church, his life, my obsessions and so on. And I am to return on Thursday to try again.

In truth I could have got the shots when we were talking, but that would have been rude, anyway. Always next time.

We retrace our steps back to Worth, and I tried the door of the church there, but it was locked, with no sign of it being open or a keyholder.

Another one to return to.

And that was the excitement for the day. We drive home via Whitfield and home in time to have a brew and some leftover Christmas chocolate.

Being a Saturday there was football to listen to, football to burble away in the background and football to fall asleep to. We have cheese and crackers, and a glass of wine. Or two, and I take up position on the sofa and soon am battling snoozing, my snores waking me up each time.

At five we go to collect John on the way to Jen's for some card action, meaning I would not watch the football, featuring Norwich v Spurs. I couldn't face it.

Anyway, we collect John and soon have our eyes down for some Meld action, me almost forgetting about the game on. At half seven, I check the internets and find that the game had ended 2-2, and again Norwich so near and so far.

Oh well.

We have supper of cold cuts, pickles and the like.

And then carry on with more cards. We finish level, John wins heavy again, meaning Jools is the loser.

We drive home along empty streets back home, the night before the night before the night before New Year. Or something.