We have a new handgate in the churchyard, the gate that leads out to the field footpath, and very smart it is too. One or two people have tried to repair the old one but to no avail - it seemed that it had run its course. There are those amongst us who try to hang on to the traditional as long as possible but it can be truly said that that kissing gate had seen all the kissing of its lifetime and let's hope that the new one gives as much pleasure as its predecessor.
What a wonderful topic the weather is for us of the Isles of Great Britain. Talking of the unseasonable weather recently, one person said that in years past they took the twelve days of Christmas as a guide for the year's weather. Whatever the weather was on the first day of the twelve, then that would be the pattern for the first month of the year. So, to follow that format, the weather condition on the sixth day would be the weather for June, and so on.
The Thumbstick Club walked the Sandhills and Jacob's Wood last time out. It was a study of woodland life in detail from the smallest creature to the large oaks - the blend of violets and primroses coupled with the contrast of pine and beech trees was a pleasure to behold and we thank Major Chester for allowing us to share the beauty of it all. The next walk will be on 25 April starting from The Knoll at 7am. Please drive down as we shall, more than likely, be out of town. No dogs please.
At all costs please enter into your diary the Grand Musical Evening performed by the Newport Pagnell Singers in St Lauds Church on the evening of Saturday 17 April at 7.30pm. Says he that shouldn't, it promises to be a very enjoyable programme. A good deal of care and study has gone into this arrangement by our Musical Director, Dr Gerald Hill, and all he asks in return is a full house on the night. See you all there.
Last month we reported the passing of Bill Bennett who many of us remember with affection, not least for his sporting talents. Fifty years ago he played cricket for Sherington, we played then in The Leys. 'Twas a windy, wet and uninviting day, a Sunday in late autumn, towards the end of the season with the weather closing in early, you see, in those days. The captains decided to play on whatever the weather, Bill was fielding at deep square leg and there wasn't much happening. The rain worsened and still they played on. Bill donned his mac and he couldn't resist lighting up a woodbine. Gradually he worked his way nearer to the hedge until he was undercover from the elements. Nobody in England looked less like a cricketer than Bill bennett that day, although in general he was a very good player.
One lady and her husband, both very enthusiastic walkers, went round the gallop for their regular constitutional and, upon their return, the lady checked the pockets of her jeans for the £15 that she knew she had placed in them before starting her walk. Alas, the check revealed that she had lost a fiver. She concluded that somewhere between her home in Church Road and Mare Hill or Cuthroat Spinney, lay her £5 but she hadn't time to recover the ground that day. She said nothing to her spouse until the next day whereupon he announced that he had, that very afternoon, walked the gallop and had found a five pound note. Thinking that some young horse rider had probably lost the money and would be retracing their steps, he rolled up the fiver, about the size of a cigarette and slid it into the hinge rod on the top of the handgate where one couldn't help but see it should you use the gate. At this point in the proceedings the wife decided that she would go yet again along the gallop to see if the note was still there. En route she had to call to see Nick and Tom at the Garage. Barely had she started to tell her business when through the door came this writer. It takes some believing, does that, as they say up north,and so the little bird went with the lady and in the drizzle of the late afternoon, muddy boots and all, we went to the handgate and there it was, the little bird to tell all and sundry. As I said to the lady involved in it all, they will say, 'Another of his far-fetched tales!' But, before our maker, it all happened last week.
Think on this one then: Gwenn was going to Australia to visit her daughter, Sarah, and her family. She arrived at Heathrow, boarded a plane for Sydney, took her seat in a not too full plane and settled in. The lady next to her exchanged greetings and the usual chat began. After a while the question 'Where do you live?'. 'North Bucks'. 'Oh yes, whereabouts?'. 'Near Newport Pagnell - Sherington'. 'Ah yes' came the lady's reply. 'I know it well because I lived at Sherington Bridge for three years'. What are the odds on that, we ask?
One man in our midst had the meter-reading man call. The householder informed him that the meter was in the barn on the wall and he would see the stepladder leaning there for the purpose of meter reading. But the meter-reading man said, 'Sorry, I am not allowed to climb ladders without a second man from the board here'. So he didn't read the meter and went away empty-handed. It's a new world we live in, don't you know.
We had a phone call from Tom Bradshaw upon his return from South Africa but it was with sadness in his voice as you will read in the Hardmead column in SCAN. Why do these vandals seem to get away with so much? Indeed, why do they vandalise at all?!
Our nature lovers report the sight of kingfishers in Water Lane, of woodpeckers in apple trees in the village. Many are the nest-building reports so watch out before you move that old watering can or the wheel barrow cos there might be a nest about. Just check it out.
Latest update: 9 May 1999
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