St Crallo and The Cross

There is so much to say and so little energy to say it. It has been very very windy and it hasn’t stopped being windy yet. It was also very wet. That has now stopped, possibly temporarily. In other news, the pear tree is still standing. Next door’s fence is not. The world seems intent on disarray. It is all slightly wearying.

Today, after the rain stopped, we took a trip to Coychurch Village. We found a nice little shop and bought an enormous romanesco and a sourdough loaf, which almost certainly makes us hipsters. OH has a beard and several checked shirts so is a shoe-in, as hipster women are generally invisible it is hard to say if I fitted the spec. I am giving myself the benefit of the doubt.

We ate crisps in the local pub, who weren’t serving hot food due to a week of wakes, and sat crunching as OH moaned about how expensive it all was. I don’t think that is very hipster. Mind you, they were sweet chilli flavoured.

Then we took a look at the 13th century church, St Crallo’s, unfortunately locked, as is often the case these days. Outside the south door stands the remains of a stepped medieval cross, damaged when the church tower collapsed in 1877. I cannot confirm the age of the moss and lichen, I would think it is also quite ancient. I do know it was looking rather beautiful in the snatched sunshine.