A plain speaking wife, perhaps?


It can’t be May can it? I’m sure it was January just last week.

So concerned was I that I did an internet search on the question of why does time go faster?

Apparently it’s all to do with getting older which was hardly the answer I was looking for.

Anyway as I was wending my way around our wonderful Suffolk villages this week I was reminded of one of my favourite poems by my favourite poet AE Housman:

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now

Is hung with bloom along the bough,

And stands about the woodland ride

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Wearing white for Eastertide.

Now, of my threescore years and ten,

Twenty will not come again,

And take from seventy springs a score,

It only leaves me fifty more.

And since to look at things in bloom

Fifty springs are little room,

About the woodlands I will go

To see the cherry hung with snow

Everywhere looks nice at this time of year doesn’t it?

And this week I found myself away from my small Felixstowe flat with sea views (distant) and in the mid Suffolk village of Great Finborough with my plain speaking photographer friend Lucy – who, as regular readers will know, is getting married.

We were there to visit the church which is having work done, after a bit of wobbly masonry was spotted during bell ringing last October.

While we were there, we bumped into former Northgate High School headteacher Neil Watts – a kindly soul who helped me out many a time during my earlier halcyon days as a cub reporter.

Neil pointed out the stunning view of the vale behind the church, a snapshot of Suffolk in all its spring like glory.

Lucy and I pondered it quietly for a while, until Lucy remembered where she was and started talking about her wedding again.

“I do still talk about other things too,” she said at one point, and I, of course, smiled benignly for she can be very plain speaking at times.

Inside the church, as Lucy captured a moment when I was breathing in, John Kendall, a parochial church council member, told me that the church was built in the 1880s by a rich benefactor who lived nearby.

John said: “The local legend is that the spire was built because his wife needed a landmark to guide her home.”

What a lovely story, I wonder if it is true? Though it does make one wonder if John’s wife was somewhat plain speaking too.