Out in the Rain

We finally ventured out today in spite of the ongoing rain. (It’s been raining for four days solid - drizzling rather than raining, and more unpleasant for it.) One of the main reasons we got out of the house was because I’d rung a woman called Amanda Jennings at Anglian Worms, and she was happy for me to come and look at her worm farm. More about this visit on one of my other blogs. After we’d been to the worm farm we backtracked a little to Langham Glass, which, like Anglian Worms, is out in what I’d call the middle of nowhere, on an industrial estate. Be that as it may, we checked out the place, which was very busy, in spite of its isolation. Celia wanted to have a look at the people doing glass-blowing, but since this is England, and they charge for everything here, she baulked in the end at paying highly for the privilege. (Particularly since, in Nelson, in New Zealand, we’d seen the same thing for free.) Langham Glass produces some lovely work, however, and we bought some marbles - which Celia almost lost as soon as she got home. Again, in spite of the rain, we carried on to King’s Lynn, which apparently used to be called Bishop’s Lynn because it belonged to a Bishop. (It was a little smaller then.) A lynn is a pool, I‘ve discovered. King’s Lynn would have been better without the rain and overcastness, but it was a pleasant surprise. Five op shops at least, which kept us busy, but also a bustling shopping centre spreading out in several directions. In fact, we got lost at least twice by turning a corner than was curved rather than straight. We wore ourselves out in the end and didn’t get to the church in the town with two towers; another time perhaps. However on the way home we dropped into Narborough, where my brother-in-law had built a house in the past, and had lived there for about eight years. The house has been built up around now, but it still has some distinction - and beach stones set in the walls. Narborough also has a trout fishing place which was set in a delightful park area with pools and streams. And it has an old mill next door, with a rushing waterfall. Since we’d missed out on the King’s Lynn church, we went into the Narborough one. It’s smaller, of course, but quite light inside, as the big window over the altar isn’t stained glass, but almost clear. There was one other person there - also taking photographs. He turned out to be one Mr Spellman, and was taking photographs of the tombs of his ancestors. It seems the Spilmans (as they were called then) were prominent people in the Narborough/Norfolk area, and the church is riddled with their monuments and gravestones. He told us how one ancestor there, a woman, had married into the Spilman family back in the 13th century. Another had been a Recorder, and was buried ‘standing up’ in a large square block. It has his statue on top of it. He insisted on this (before he died, of course) because he’d never been ‘stood on’ during his life and wasn’t going to be after he died. However, as these things turn out, his body was disinterred at some point and is now stuck under the stones beneath one of the pews. So much for dignity. In the picture on the left, the statues of two of the ancestors lie on their sides, leaning on their hands. These are the parents of the Recorder. In the second picture, Mr Spellman isn't praying to one of his ancestors, he's trying to take a photo. Celia, in the wet raincoat, supervises.