Doo wah diddy
Feeling remarkably fresh this morning, considering how tired and well watered we were at bedtime. John had cooked us breakfast and we sat downstairs with him. Sue out about the vital business of having her toenails done.
In the afternoon, under rather threatening skies we drove off to Chastleton House, which it turned out had been used in the shoot for Wolf Hall, and played the part of Wolf Hall itself. Built of honey coloured local stone between 1607 and 1612 it was built a little later than the action of the show, but oozed with antiquity. We walked across a field full of sheep and bleating lambs and into a courtyard and then into the house itself. Rather amazing place, populated with National Trust volunteers ready to shower you with facts if your guard slipped. I found the place rather inspiring, from the rotted book of divine poems found in the rafters, to the embroideries of the planets and their astrological associations (done at a time when say Aquarius was still associated with Saturn, and Pisces with Jupiter as Uranus and Neptune were as yet undiscovered). I particularly loved the long barrel roofed hall.
From here into the chapel next door where we sat in the cold sipping teas and coffees. I had a damn fine piece of fruitcake too. John and I discussing the evils of religion but fortunately we slipped away before the cross started revolving.
Home, and I had a majestic hour's snooze. This followed by a lovely supper and then off to nearby Evesham to see The Manfreds, remnants of the band that had a string of hits in the sixties. Fronted by an incredibly energetic Paul Jones and Tom McGuinness from the original band, they actually put on an really good show. Our party was actually on the younger end of the evening's demographic, but after a few beers it was fun. The crowd singing away merrily, and the gig ending with the highly rock and roll... "Goooooood night Evesham!" All of us laughing about the gig on the way back home, but we all enjoyed it.
Home to more wine and cheese, where I put on an all-England cheese eating demonstration, while much else was discussed. The conversation straying onto the significance of sheena-na-gigs whose existence I'd been completely unaware of before John said there was one on a church in Ireland his family had gone to.
Below Lorraine, Sue and John, and the Manfreds on stage.
In the afternoon, under rather threatening skies we drove off to Chastleton House, which it turned out had been used in the shoot for Wolf Hall, and played the part of Wolf Hall itself. Built of honey coloured local stone between 1607 and 1612 it was built a little later than the action of the show, but oozed with antiquity. We walked across a field full of sheep and bleating lambs and into a courtyard and then into the house itself. Rather amazing place, populated with National Trust volunteers ready to shower you with facts if your guard slipped. I found the place rather inspiring, from the rotted book of divine poems found in the rafters, to the embroideries of the planets and their astrological associations (done at a time when say Aquarius was still associated with Saturn, and Pisces with Jupiter as Uranus and Neptune were as yet undiscovered). I particularly loved the long barrel roofed hall.
From here into the chapel next door where we sat in the cold sipping teas and coffees. I had a damn fine piece of fruitcake too. John and I discussing the evils of religion but fortunately we slipped away before the cross started revolving.
Home, and I had a majestic hour's snooze. This followed by a lovely supper and then off to nearby Evesham to see The Manfreds, remnants of the band that had a string of hits in the sixties. Fronted by an incredibly energetic Paul Jones and Tom McGuinness from the original band, they actually put on an really good show. Our party was actually on the younger end of the evening's demographic, but after a few beers it was fun. The crowd singing away merrily, and the gig ending with the highly rock and roll... "Goooooood night Evesham!" All of us laughing about the gig on the way back home, but we all enjoyed it.
Home to more wine and cheese, where I put on an all-England cheese eating demonstration, while much else was discussed. The conversation straying onto the significance of sheena-na-gigs whose existence I'd been completely unaware of before John said there was one on a church in Ireland his family had gone to.
Below Lorraine, Sue and John, and the Manfreds on stage.
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