DAYS OUT/MiSC: Waresley & Gamlingay; Peaks & Troughs

St. James The Great, Gamlingay.

Today was a bit of a struggle. I tried to book more work. But shifts there were none! Watched a bit of afternoon snooker. Fell asleep for about an hour.

Water pump.

As on a few other recent occasions, I felt steamroller flat. Like a dirigible that’s just been sat on by Mt Everest. Such levels of fatigue get to be depressing. I had a doc’ appointment (well, ‘nurse practitioner!). But nothing has been diagnosed.

Strange village erection.

Getting out for work is always something of a tonic, for cabin fever. But in addition to exhaustion, poverty is grindingly depressing. Bills went out today that took me over my overdraft limit. I spent a lot of this morning trying to sort money shit out.

A white Twix?

Oh dear, this is the kind of trivia that I sometimes loathe the interweb for! But… what can I say? Other than… a White Twix?

My delivery rounds finished in Gamlingay. So I took the opportunity to have a walk around St Mary The Virgin. Very impressive, externally. But shut, sadly.

She’s a whopper! Back end.

I’ve even applied for a ‘cost of living’ grant, online. I’ll be applying for Council Tax reduction as well. Grimly enervating soul destroying stuff!


The first thing to really lift my spirits, as I drove around delivering today, was passing through the picturesque village of Waresley.


Then a bit later, I had a nice chat with a lady I delivered to in Gamlingay, about MX5s. She had a more modern one, with an electric collapsible hardtop. She also had a very stylish old home.

The view from where I parked.

And just down the street from this nice lady’s home, the enormous weighty pile that is St Mary The Virgin.

Big window, little window.
Looking back out from within.
One of numerous fab doors.

I had a saunter around the perimeter of this imposing edifice. And whilst doing so fell in with a very nice tweedy gentleman, who was walking what I assume was either his daughter or granddaughter.

Mightily impressive. Mixing materials.

He made some interestingly jocular remarks about my interest in the church, inc. an allusion to lead thievery. To which I riposted with something about it being the only affordable source of lead for my toy soldiers, which he liked.

An even funkier door.

These delivery rounds interactions can, as they were today, be quite pleasant. All of which helped pull me out of a mire of exhausted poverty-stricken maudlin ruminating.

The main entrance.

We agreed what a shame church vandalism and theft are. And I lamented that this church has always been closed when I’ve tried to view it. The little girl – a blond pig-tailed sweetie – then piped up about it only being open on Sundays.

Porch and tower, from the graveyard.

I told her I’d had something of a falling out with God, and generally avoided calling at his house when he might be in. I wonder what she made of that? I really liked them, and they seemed pleased with me!

Just lovely.

All of which reminds me of a quote I recently read, that was attributed to Kurt Vonnegut, about the pleasures of puttering about. Indeed, Kurt! You are spot on. Who know what little gems of experience life has in store for us?

Signs of conservation, on the columns and pointing.
Groovy little n’ large combo again.

I ought also to mention that I briefly dropped in on Dad and co, in Hardwick, before starting work. They very kindly took receipt of some Freecycle wood/glass doors I’d been given, for me to collect. Which I did.

Cute little door.
Big stained glass window. Reflected light.

I’d love to get inside St Mary The Virgin (snigger, chortle, etc), and see this window from t’other side. Another time, perhaps?

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