A fern between gravestones

Up fairly early this morning and Lorraine and I drove off to Bolney's St. Mary Magdalene church where they had their saints day service. Nice folks there and a pleasant enough service. I find I am not at ease these days in church, and being told stuff like St Mary Magdalene is the patron saint of hairdressers, perfumer makers and reformed prostitutes. Why reformed? Are unreformed prostitutes then outside the ambit of God's love? Now they've made me think about God, I want silence not to be forced to imagine the theological conversations that went on somewhere about what she'd be patron of.  I want silence not to be forced to mumble through Anglican hymns. Though I do not doubt for one moment the sincerity and faith of the people who go there. Some middle eastern food afterwards in the Church (a definition which included at least two  kinds of quiches).  I like the church and enjoyed looking at its windows and talking to members of the congregation and Father Martin.

Then to Andrew and Jess, we went down to the Talbot Inn, with their lovely little dog, where we had a couple of pints and a Sunday lunch.  Regrettably finished it off with a sticky toffee pudding too, which gave me instant Type 2 diabetes. The waitress, probably about 20, kept calling us 'lovelies'.

After this went back and signed my accountancy stuff. I like having Andrew as my accountant. Then a last sit in their nice garden. Feeling unaccountably tired this afternoon, and zombie like so I was probably not the best company. A hot airless sort of day too.

An early night tonight, as Lorraine is driving Beth off to Gatwick at incredibly early o'clock, then going straight into work.

Below a modern window I liked in the Church, and Lorraine pointed out this fern growing in between two gravestones.