Only our rivers run free

How sweet is life but we're crying, how mellow the wine but we're dry,
How fragrant the rose but it's dying, how gentle the wind but it sighs,
What good is in youth when it's ageing, what joy is in eyes that can't see,
When there's sorrow in sunshine and flowers, and still only our rivers run free. 

                                                                                              Michael McConnell

It seems you can be fined for taking your dog for a walk, going to the shop more than once a day. Don't think for one minute of putting the kids in a car and going to the wildest most empty spaces as far from any other person as you can imagine because your journey is deemed unnecessary by your unelected Chief Constable and he's spying on you with his drones. The police and the media invite us to inform of breaches of the new way of repression, I wouldn't tell the police the time of day ... 

Our liberties, once considered sacred and worth fighting wars over, are now in a bag marked "unnecessary" and "a danger to public health" (there is , of course, no such thing as public health; it's a myth used to cow the timid and ignorant) and there they will stay until unelected civil servants or idiots from Imperial College dictate. Our ancient rights to go about our lawful business without let or hindrance swept aside in a couple of days with the blessing of a rancid (and hopefully fatally infected) Parliament... 

We, the imprisoned, were urged the other night to go out at 8pm of an evening and applaud our imprisonment, to thank the NHS (what for? for doing the job we pay them for? ) and as you might guess many did. Sweet, intoxicating stuff that Kool Aid. Well, if my neighbours are assholes it's not my problem.

"Is Everybody Happy?"

  "It's funny 'cos it's true"
                           Homer Simpson

Just look what joy Hull had to look forward to this autumn, being entertained by others' misery. This was before the dreamy happy times began and we all sat comfortably at home obeying the Fat Controller and being entertained by own wretchedness; running sweepstakes on the mounting but quite normal deaths from pneumonia, diabetes, old age and so on being twisted into something so deadly serious we simply must collapse the entire economic/politcial/civic system. I see the FC has caught the WuFlu (along with the Health Secretary, you really can't make this stuff up!)... serves the fat bastard right, should have washed his hands more though I doubt all the perfumes of Arabia would sweeten his podgy paws.

"... the nave is not St Margaret's best feature"

I hadn't intended to revisit this magnificent old thing but Margot had some personal business to attend to here so in I went to get out of the wind if nothing else. Is this place always empty? This was well before the current nonsense struck the world. I hear that all churches are closed now following government dictat, clearly they care more for their mortal bodies than their immortal souls but 'twas ever thus. Here's the nave which I find rather impressive but a guide says "be patient, the nave is not St Margaret's best feature". Well everyone's a critic these days.

The east rose widow is 15th century but restored in the 19th.

The west window over the front door is also 15th century and is a little bit of a stunner.

Take a pew

It was the fashion at one time to carve grotesque figures in churches, you'll find them supporting the roof, hidden on screens but quite often you'll find them on the ends of seats. So here's a couple from St Margaret's. I don't know their age, possibly not as old as they are pretending since the place was renovated back in the 19th century; they might be Victorian projections of medieval fantasy.

And below is the tout ensemble. Weird, eh? These were supposed to ward off evil, they scare the devil as it were, though just what the devil might be doing in a church in King's Lynn I cannot imagine despite the local legend. You could, if you wished, see this a sexual thing, the hare (or is it a rabbit?)  symbolising prostitution and licentiousness, or maybe that devilish figure has too much of a caricature Jewish face for modern comfort? You can read what you like into them like since whoever made them is long gone and past caring. Personally I think they were a bit of fun, permitted silliness that no-one took seriously,  they were a distraction through the tedious enforced sermonising of the medieval church. Nowadays we have grotesque figures beamed into our homes and we call them celebrities or worse.

 The weekend in black and white is here.

All pictures by Margot K Juby.

Feeding the ducks

St Peter's Church, West Lynn

This little church made a brief appearance in a post sometime back (here) without any comment. So today here's St Peter's over in West Lynn from the King's Lynn side and below a little bit closer. The building dates from Norman times and has had bits added over the years including the tower in the 14th century with the last renovation in the 20th century.

The Government has decreed this evening that we shall not leave our homes save for essential shopping, medical needs and exercise once a day. Meh! I usually only ever leave my house for essential shopping, medical needs and exercise once a day in any case so this don't impress me much. Non-essential shops are being closed (*gallic shrug*) and bus services are being cut back but then they never ran on time  so I doubt we'll notice. All should be well unless tell-tales, nosy neighbours and the police decide to play silly buggers in which case all will be far from well. It's hardly the end of the world, yet. It's weird how many folk want their liberties taken away from them ("Please lock us up for our good"!). Oddly (or perhaps not) the most vociferous are those on the left who, well you might have thought they'd know better... I might write to my MP or then again I might not... I am bored by all this tedious nonsense as I'm sure most folk are and will try not to mention it again. You will not find me writing a diary of the "lockdown" (God forbid!) I shall just muddle on here as I always do. Oh before I go, never forget in all this no matter what you do or how you play it ... mors vincit omnia!

Say it with flowers

Florists across the country have been trying to cash in on Mothering Sunday (or Mother's Day as we call it here to confuse our American friends, I doubt if many know why it is even a thing on the calendar but I digress) possibly their last opportunity to make a bit of money for some time (except maybe for funerals though even they will no doubt be banned if the ordure really hits the fan). These polyanthus primula "Silver Lace" were at the Plant Pot on Greenwood Avenue. 

The advice from our increasingly floundering Premier is not to visit mama today, indeed aged maters and paters should both be locked up tight and not allowed out (smothering Sunday, perhaps?) ... since I've been a poor orphan these many years it's not really an issue.