Three churches

Mr M in St Mary's Church, Swinbrook

I had another opportunity to muck about with Lola II on Saturday, and this time Mr M was there too. It was actually part of a weekend to celebrate his birthday, which he permits with some reluctance. We met in a town called Burford in Oxfordshire - a pretty, old Cotswold town with significantly more cake shops per mile than Oxford - but before allowing ourselves cake we planned to visit the church and then go for a walk. The town itself was very old, with a door marked 1603 (Mr M adds: a year before the first European settlement in the Americas since the Vikings).

I'm not usually all that interested in churches, but having read 'Pillars of the Earth' recently, which has the building of a cathedral running through it, St John the Baptist Church was built around the same time in the 12th century. There was a leaflet describing some interesting features - the Harman memorial for example, in which are carved the images of the sixteen Harman children as well as the first known depiction in England of Amazon Indians. Henry Harman was one of King Henry VIII's barbers, a gentleman of his Privy Chamber, and also one of the witnesses to his will. The leaflet also mentioned the incident in 1649 when 340 of the rebel Levellers were imprisoned in the church. One of them carved his name into the lead within the font, and three ringleaders were shot in the churchyard. (Mr M also reminded me: the church also had a 14th century clock and an interesting tomb with a stone skeleton that has a human femur).

The weather was not great, and although it didn't rain and was even sunny for a time, the wind was cold and bitey. We set off across country and reached the village of Swinbrook, which has another really interesting 12th century church which not only contains the strangest monuments that I've ever seen, but also the graves of four of the Mitford sisters and their parents as well as a memorial inside to their brother Thomas who was killed in World War 2.

The strange monuments in St Mary's Church are two sets of three reclining figures set one above the other as if on shelves. The first set was created in 1613 and the second in 1686, and each represents a member of the Fettiplace family, who held the manor of Swinbrook during the 17th century. When I did some online research to get these facts right, it seems that we missed some of the other features of this church, including the 'big nose misericord' carved in wood.

The third church on the walk was St Oswald's Church, which was originally a Saxon or Norman structure but most of the current building dates from the 11th century. The surrounding village of Widford has now disappeared, perhaps from plague or economic failure, and the church was closed in 1859 and used as a farm building. When it was restored in 1904 they not only found a Roman mosaic beneath the floor (which has had to be covered up again due to pilfering), but they also uncovered several 14th century wall paintings.

The walk took a bit longer than anticipated, but thankfully cake shops were still open in Burford. It was a lovely day and Lola II and I celebrated Mr M's advancing years with tea, coffee, chips, a sandwich, and a scone with jam and cream. Interestingly, Mr M was the only one who actually ordered cake.

Can you tell which one is Mr M?

Angus and Bruce

After the disappointment of the cancelled weekend with a trainee Guide Dog, I was offered two more weekends, first with Angus, then with Bruce.

Angus

Angus is a yellow Labrador, and he's usually looked after by the daughter of a badminton friend who had just the previous week been showing me pictures of him. He's quite young and hasn't done much of his training yet, and I was warned that he sometimes brings shoes or clothes as presents. I had told the trainer that I had my music group on the Saturday and asked whether it was going to be OK to take him along, and the trainer thought that would be all right, but suggested a distraction in case he got bored.

Well, it was like having an energetic toddler the size of a 10-year-old child romping about the house. I had to move EVERYTHING out of reach, not just shoes and clothes, but towels, plants, books and anything else that was movable. Then I had to shut all the doors (he likes toilet paper) and block the stairs, and still any time we weren't in the same room I was on edge wondering what mischief was going down. The only time he stopped moving was when I was watching TV, and even then he tried to sit on top of me rather than next to me. The worst moment was when he almost managed to jump over the garden wall - he would only have ended up trapped in next-door's garden, but still, it would have been inconvenient.

I imagined it would help if we did some long walks to tire him out, but he's not much more than a puppy and I'm nearly 60, so what actually happened was that I tired myself out, especially after playing saxophone and clarinet for three hours. Angus was completely at ease with honking sax and squawking clarinets, and didn't really need the distraction of a frozen soaked kibble filled bone, although he was very happy to be given it.

But he didn't like getting in the car. Picking him up from the Guide Dogs centre he was fine, but it was a bit of a performance to get him in the back so I could drive to the music group, and I was pretty sure that we were going to have trouble getting him home. Sure enough, at the end of the session he absolutely wasn't interested in getting in the car. Luckily the director of the group was last to pack up and came over to offer assistance, which I gladly accepted. So he picked Angus up and shoved him bodily in the back. I realised that I'd have to plan for getting him back to the centre, although if all else failed we could walk, so I withheld breakfast until we were ready to go, and put the bowl in the car, which worked beautifully.

The strangest thing was that while Angus was with me on Sunday I was contemplating whether I could actually manage looking after a dog full time and very grateful that I was taking him back the next day. But on Monday afternoon I was already missing him.

Bruce

Bruce is also a yellow Labrador, and he came to stay for just one night. One of the interesting things about this whole scheme is that I'm seeing the differences and similarities not just in the dogs, but also in the trainers. Bruce's trainer seemed to be less organised than the others - she wasn't there at the time she'd told me to meet her, she hadn't arranged the sheet of information that accompanies a dog to let you know the relevant information, and he didn't come with any toys or special treats. They hadn't even arranged to provide the right amount of food - supper was handed over, but not breakfast until I asked. 

He reminded me of Angus but was much less naughty: he didn't go upstairs, and didn't mess with my belongings except for a gift of one solitary glove when I really had been ignoring him (I was cooking). We didn't have much time for walking, but even though he was the least reticent about getting in the back of the car I decided to walk him back to the centre, and made the rookie error of forgetting to bring poo bags. Despite having done his business already that morning he managed another on the way there, which I had to leave where it was and pick it up on the way back.

When I arrived at the kennels there was nobody about at all. I rang the bell a few times, then put Bruce in one of the runs and texted the trainer to check whether it was OK to leave him like that. Then some staff turned up and took charge even though they weren't expecting him, and the trainer still hasn't replied to my text message (although it's possible the kennel staff reassured her that all was well).

They have already offered me another dog, but for dates when I'm away so I've had to turn it down. But one of my Buddhist friends was telling me how he'd had to cancel his attendance at a retreat because his brother and parents couldn't look after his dog, so I offered my services as dogsitter and we'll be meeting up soon.

Bruce again

Two Lolas in Oxford

Riverhill Himalayan Gardens, June 2021

It's been a while since the two Lolas descended upon a town, but we managed to find a time when both of us were free - not so easy nowadays - and off we went to Oxford.

Lola II had done the required research about where we would eat, because now that I have gone properly vegetarian it is no longer a foregone conclusion that it will be Japanese food. We settled on an Arabic bakery (Za'atar Bake) that was some way from the station, so we started to catch up on the way.

Lola II's big news is that seven years after joining the 'Borrow My Doggy' website, she has finally gone ahead and contacted some dog owners. She is now in regular contact with Reggie, taking him for walks and bringing him home as well. Meanwhile, I was contacted by Guide Dogs ahead of planned weekends with Angus and Bruce, which have actually gone ahead this time. Dog news is on its way in future posts.

Throughout lunch (me: flatbread with cheese, spinach and pomegrate seeds, Lola II: chicken tagine with lemon, olives and rice), we talked a great deal, and then walked back into town to the Weston Library which has exhibitions that have always proved interesting in the past. This time was no exception, with an exhibition about melancholy based on a huge book published in 1621 called 'The Anatomy of Melancholy' by an Oxford Scholar called Robert Burton. For a 400-year-old book it had a lot of relevant insight into depression, its causes and its treatment.

There was also a huge tapestry on display, showing what remains of a map of Oxfordshire and beyond, made in the 16th century. It actually stretches as far as London to the east and Cheltenham to the west, and despite large portions being missing it's in remarkable condition after restoration - especially knowing that, like the book we saw, it's also more than 400 years old. In looking up the information to include here I found out that it's one of four maps commissioned by a man who lived in Warwickshire, and that the only one that is still complete is of Warwickshire, and can be found in the museum in Warwick. I think a visit is in order.

After all that culture we needed cake, so after some difficult research we ended up in the covered market. Oxford really needs to up its game when it comes to advertising cake shops, and the selection was not impressive. More talking ensued, and then we decided to extend the trip with a visit to the cinema where we saw the film Belfast (tipped for Oscar nominations). It turned out to be a showing with subtitles, which I was very sorry about because I find them incredibly distracting. Lola II didn't mind.

As far as I know, we didn't take a single photo the whole day, not even of lunch or the cake, so I've had to include a picture from a trip last year at the top of this post. And apart from wearing masks when going into shops and the library, it felt very normal and pre-pandemic. More trips are planned.

What I've been reading

Goodbye to Berlin
by Christopher Isherwood

"Written as a connected series of six short stories, the book, first published in 1939, is a brilliant evocation of the decadence and repression, glamour and sleaze of Berlin society."

A lovely little book, much better than the previous one I read by this interesting man, who was living in interesting times in interesting places among interesting people. One of the short stories forms the basis for the play/film 'Cabaret', although they are somewhat different in tone.

What is the Sangha?
by Sangharakshita

"The usual image of the Buddha is of a man seated alone, deep in meditation. So it can be a surprise to find that Buddhism gives great importance to the Sangha, the spiritual community."

This is the textbook for the next module of my Buddhist study, all about how being an individual associating with other individuals is as important as the role of the Buddha and all that he taught. I have found it much easier to read than other books I've had to tackle within the course, probably because it was community that I was looking for when I got involved in the local Buddhist group  so I understand its importance.

The Good, the Bad and the Multiplex
by Mark Kermode

"Outspoken, opinionated and hilariously funny, this book is a must for anyone who has ever sat in an undermanned, overpriced cinema and asked themselves: 'How the hell did things get to be this terrible?'"

I wouldn't call this 'hilariously funny' because the humour comes from the author ranting about all the things that are wrong with the world of film making and cinema, but it's an interesting look at the commercial angle that influences the business behind the scenes. And supports the reason why there are so few films that I really like - I am not part of the 'mass market' in any way, not liking many superhero films, not having children, not wanting popcorn, ice cream or nachos in the cinema, not interested in horror or violence... the list goes on. We could do with an independent arthouse cinema in Leamington, but at least we have the Vue in walking distance so I'm not complaining.

It's Only a Movie: Reel Life Adventures of a Film Obsessive
by Mark Kermode

"Join him as he gets lost in Russia on the trail of a low-budget horror flick, gasp as he's shot at in Hollywood while interviewing Bavarian director Werner Herzog, cheer as he gets thrown out of the Cannes film festival for heckling in very bad French, and cringe as he's handbagged by Helen Mirren at London's glitzy BAFTA Awards."

After finishing his second book (above) I dug out this first book to read again, and it's quite entertaining if you know the man's work. I'm not sure anyone who is unused to the Kermodian way of reviewing films would find much of interest, though. It occurred to me that given the amount of time he devotes to the horror and gore aspect of film, it's surprising that he has much time to spend on anything else.

Writing with Power: Techniques for Mastering the Writing Process
by Peter Elbow

"Employing a cookbook approach, the author provides the reader (and writer) with various recipes: for getting words down on paper, for revising, for dealing with an audience, for getting feedback on a piece of writing, and still other recipes for approaching the mystery of power in writing. "

This is a very dense, long book, and comprehensively covers both factual ('expository') writing like reports and memos as well as more creative writing. It is probably more suitable for dipping into if you were stuck writing something, but nevertheless I read the whole lot, and would return to it if I ever manage to start writing in earnest. As with all the other books on writing that I've read, it strongly advises 'free writing' - just writing anything for 15 minutes first thing every day. I'll let you know when that happens.

Lord Jim
by Joseph Conrad

narrated by Nigel Graham

"The story tells of Jim, a young, good-looking, genial, and naïve mate on the Patna, a cargo ship plying Asian waters. One night, when the ship collides with an obstacle and begins to sink, Jim jumps overboard and lands in the lifeboat bearing the unscrupulous captain and his cohorts away from the disaster."

I really must remember not to read any more Joseph Conrad. Apparently, he wrote Heart of Darkness in the middle of writing this, and they have very similar atmosphere - this in Malaya and the other in the Congo - but both featuring a displaced white man with a dark history. Very slow narration, mostly tedious, and the last chapter was the most interesting and plausible of the lot. But please, no more.

The Pillars of the Earth
by Ken Follett

narrated by John Lee

"A spellbinding epic tale of ambition, anarchy, and absolute power set against the sprawling medieval canvas of 12th-century England. This is the story of Philip, prior of Kingsbridge, a devout and resourceful monk driven to build the greatest Gothic cathedral the world has known."

A monumental read, in many senses, set in the 12th century and running over a period of time that I know little about. King Stephen followed by the second Henry plus an interlude of Maud, and the central theme of the book is the building of a cathedral. I quite like a saga, and there's plenty here - the audio book is 41 hours long. I mostly liked it, but would have preferred a little less detail of the sexual violence.

First Love
by Ivan Turgenev

narrated by David Troughton

"At the end of a dinner party, the remaining guests drink wine and tell stories of their first love. For one of them, it will be a dark journey into his past, reawakening unbearable memories of his obsession with the beautiful Zinaida."

My Audible subscription has started offering free books if you listen online. Mostly I use my old iPod which means I'm not listening online, plus I have a very stingy data plan so I use my phone very little without WiFi. But there was a problem with the download of the last book, which made me try the free online option, so this is a short story from the Classics list. And it's OK, nothing special, but good to listen to a proper Russian book for a change.