Wednesday, April 17, 2024

Hot Fuzz

 

 

 My grandchildren have discovered for themselves how funny Hot Fuzz still is. After nearly two decades, the film's jokes have aged well. For me, visiting nearby Wells (Sandford) has been all about seeing the Cathedral, attending a service, or just visiting a few shops. But they were on the hunt for film locations, and they found them, together with swan ads in the newsagents, with mention of Sgt Angel, as well as a wide choice of Cornettos for purchase. And best of all, on the Cathedral Green, SWAN!  






Friday, April 12, 2024

Invasion of the Jackdaws

We were away from home overnight. When we returned the next morning, the sitting room fluttered furiously with four frightened jackdaws. (And yes, I'm pleased with that alliteration.)  They had come down the large open chimney and were now looking for the Exit sign. I caught each one individually and bid it adieu after opening the window.  They have good strong beaks which deliver a sharp peck. As soon as we could, we arranged for Jacob and his mate to fit a bird cowl on the chimney. Now the jackdaws are cross with us, and sit, cursing, on the top of the chimney. 




Treasurer's House, Martock

 


You can feel you're stepping back into an earlier England in Somerset. So much of it is still there to be seen. Take Martock, for example. A small town, with some newer outlying houses, but at its centre is a beautiful cluster of seventeenth and eighteenth century town houses, together with  medieval houses around the large hamstone church. The finest of these is the Treasurer's house opposite the church, originally built in the thirteenth century but with later additions and adaptations. This little town was clearly a significant place in this earlier England, with prosperous farms and links to royalty. The Treasurer of Wells Cathedral, whose house is now managed by the National Trust, was also rector of Martock Parish Church. The kitchen (above) adjoining the house provided hospitality for visitors and festive occasions, as well as serving the more modest needs of the Rector when he was at home.  

 On what is now the town hall, I noticed a wall plaque of the Boer War, recalling not the human cost, but the enormous number of horses killed in those three years of bitter colonial fighting. The stone water trough given in memory remains, a reminder that all wars pass, eventually, into distant memories, but leaving suffering in their wake for generations.

 



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