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Not With A Bang...

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We went over to Bishop's Castle this morning with the intention of getting a bit of food shopping done and maybe grabbing a sausage baguette and coffee from the The Happy Bap, an excellent little eatery specialising in rather fine sandwiches; only to find the entire High Street shut down by an unexpected and very localised power outage. The only two places able to trade - [no electricity, no lighting, no Epos to take payment: all food chillers and freezer cabinets would have to be closed off to conserve low temperatures] -  were Rosie's vintage clothes and curios shop [she takes only cash and the sunshine was providing ample light], and the local filling station, which I assume was either functioning on back-up generators, or fed from a different circuit [unlikely] to the rest of the High Street. A hapless queue was forming at the door of the Cooperative, waiting for the [electric] doors to open, to no avail. Apparently no advance warning was issued, so one can only assume that...
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Leominster

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Today we drove over to Leominster for a mooch around the many antique shops there. As I've mentioned before, my Southall family has ties to Leominster as well as Bishop's Frome, with a possible connection to the large Quaker presence in the area going back some two or three centuries: Leominster is a major meeting place, and the Southall name is writ large in Quaker records concerning Herefordshire families. I've yet to confirm the connection, but it seems to me from records I've seen that it is likely there. We bought an excellent sandwich from a little deli in the centre of town, and sat in the square in the sun to eat it, before walking down to look at the Priory, not far from the square [interior, pictured]. From there we picked up the car and drove to Leintwardine for a drink at The Lion, a place we've eaten at several time before [recommended]. As we were leaving, I realised that I'd left my day-sack on the bench where we'd eaten lunch, which contained...
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Not Tonight, Mandy...

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Despite watching the Mandelson debate live on TV - during which there were more ill-formed questions than logical, and where only a couple of them actually got close to getting to the nub of the issue - I've arrived at a point in the evening, Mastermind and University Challenge grand finals behind me, a belly full of steak pie and halfway though a bottle of Malbec, where I really can't be arsed with trying to synthesise my thoughts on the so-called scandal playing out in government at present. Suffice to say I have some strong opinions on the subject, but I'll leave them for another day, as, to be frank, I'm fashed. What I will say is that we had a good day out to Ludlow, followed by a pint of Clun Pale over the papers at The White Horse, when we got back to Clun this afternoon. So, snooker on the box, snacks, and finishing my wine are my present priorities, and so I bid you nos da!
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Centering

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We went over to Acton Burnell Castle today: we've visited the place before [blog posts passim], but our companions had never been to the place, and we fancied another trot over there, anyway. After a wander around the castle ruins and taking in the sight of some of the magnificent trees there, we decamped to the adjacent St. Mary's Church, a grade one listed building dating back to the late thirteenth century, which was unmolested and unmodified until the late nineteenth century when some renovation was necessary and some minor additions were made, including the addition of the small, Victorian tower. For the most part, however, the place wears its Medieval origins on its sleeve and it is all the better for it. Pictured, original Medieval tiling around seventeenth century headstones in the floor of the north transept. A lovely and peaceful place for those with or without Christian faith, it speaks mostly of human history with all of its manifest oppressions and freedoms, wealth...
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Ac Yfory, Ac Yfory...

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Day two of our break down here in South Shropshire. Spent a couple of hours in Church Stretton scanning the charity shops and the antiques emporium that are our usual stamping ground there. Back to Clun and out for an early evening meal at The White Horse [blog posts passim], where I had a very creditable chicken curry with boiled rice and naan bread [double carbs, I know] and a couple of pints of their home-brewed and inestimable Clun Pale Ale [also blog posts passim]. Jack was on top form as mine host, and who features in my top four or five landlords - probably, no, actually occupying the top spot of my top five - it has been my pleasure to have been served good ale and banter by in my over fifty years of drinking in the more traditional ale houses of these lands. I also rank The White Horse as close as it's possible to get to the absolute ideal public house, something George Orwell could only fantasise about with his fictional alehouse 'The Moon Under Water' in his 1946...
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First of The Year!

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Here we are again in Clun for a few days break, and the sun has broken through the gloom and precipitation, with blue skies and a slight breeze; albeit starting to chill down a bit this evening. Pictured the Hospital Gardens around the corner, the old almshouses, which I've mentioned before in these despatches. The last time we were here was at the tail end of last summer, when hot weather had given way to autumn winds and rain, and the place looked more blasted heath than cottage garden. Spring bulbs are blooming everywhere and the place has been nicely tidied up after the winter ravages. Anyhow, we're off to The White Horse [blog posts passim] soon for a couple of pints and hopefully a live band. Keep you posted...
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Always Take The Weather With You...

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If I hear yet another Tory quack on about issuing new licences for new North Sea Gas exploration as the panacea for our energy woes, or some twonk spouting utter guff about deploying new nuclear developments to stem the tide of our increasing energy insecurity, I'll scream and start hitting things. There is one simple reality behind these follies: too, late, too damaging, too expensive. The only possible beneficiaries from any such developments are the corporates who are vested in these obsolescent technologies, their shareholders, and the speculator vultures who constantly circle the markets looking for carrion from the fallout. If I hear yet another vested pundit shrieking hysterically that the sun doesn't always shine and the wind doesn't always blow, I'll equally start screaming and hitting things. Anyone who lives in the British Isles knows full well that both of these meteorological phenomena actually occur with regularity, often in - surprise, surprise - a synchr...
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