Garway church and work

Nothing much to write about again today, but I thought I should at least make some sort of effort. When I looked at my blog earlier it had pretty blue pictures all over it telling me that I had exceeded my bandwidth. It wasn't me though but the person who was hosting the images for the template I use. I have now copied the images and saved them to a draft post so never need worry about bandwidth again.

Was a quiet day at work again, no surprises there. One exciting thing though we are going to have a complete makeover (the garage, not The Other Girl and I). After 10 years of putting up with dreadful magnolia walls and oil stained flooring, it's about time. We will have plumbed in heating too for the first time in years, which will be great. In winter, it is quite often warmer in the fridge than in the rest of the place. Had a chap in on Tuesday to measure the place up and decide on plans etc. Probably the least talkative man on earth.  So spent a slightly uncomfortable couple of hours wondering whether to say something and not get an answer, or just say nothing and have him think me ignorant. I hate it when things like that happen.

Yesterday as MLO had to collect some paperwork from one of his farms, and I had a day off I went with him for a ride. Rather brilliantly, the farm was over at Garway, MLO said as I had wanted to go there for so long, he would take me there after finally figuring out where in the village it is.  Nice old church it is, all angles where bits have been added, changed and joined together. We had a good look round the inside and took a few pictures, including one of a rather lovely green man. Inside it had some gorgeous old solid oak pews, but the poor place was very damp and dirty. Several of the steps had green algae on them. We decided to sit down for a few minutes when  a couple of people came in, shortly followed by another. The last lady turned out to be some sort of guide, and was about to open up the tower for the other two people to look at and said we could come along too if we wished.  As we went through she gave us all the history of the place and told us all sorts of stories about the church. Mainly about the Templars but that was to be expected I suppose. 

One fascinating thing was that in the 16th century when a passageway was built to connect the tower to the church, the resourceful builders reused  most of the templar tombstones as window lintels and steps, so when you look up above the windows there is quite often a carved sword or similar. The tower itself is 13th century, and has walls that are 4ft thick. It does feel incredibly old when you go in, and has two deeply recessed windows, that would look just as at home in a castle.

 On the floor in the tower were some lovely old tombstones beautifully carved. In the corner was the door up into the tower, but the lady said they wont allow anyone up there any more, as it is so dark and narrow, plus she said with the tower being open there is bird doo all over the stairs. She said the last time anyone was up there was five years ago when they took a group up, problem was, one lady got so scared she refused to come back down the narrow stairs, and it took almost two hours to coax her down. Also in the room along with a rather nice collection of lawnmowers and bellringing ropes was an old oak chest, almost 7 ft long and made from a single block of wood, and the gnarliest metal hinges which the lady told us  was thought to be an original templar chest, she mentioned that a dendrochronolgist had been and dated it, and he agreed with the dating. Apparently other tests had been done to determine how old it really was, and they too came to the conclusion that it was templar, but she wasn't sure what test it was that had been done.

After we had had another look round inside, and listened to a bit of the history of the place, we went for a wander round outside. A short distance across a bit of a run down orchard/paddock was the dovecote or columbarium, we didn't have much time to go and see it, besides which we hadn't asked the people who owned the land. All the time we were outside we could hear a bird of prey screeing, and looked if we could see it, from what we saw, and heard, it was probably a hen harrier, which is quite cool, thats twice I have seen one in Herefordshire now. He ended up sitting in a tree for several minutes and calling out almost the whole time, so no idea what was up with it. To finish, we strolled up to the top of the graveyard and took a couple of pictures looking down on the church to finish off. 

We came home via a lovely road , and ended up coming out at Pontrilas, a very lovely detour indeed.  We got home just after half past seven, and had shepherds pie for tea.

That just about all there is to tell now, so will say ttfn for now, and au revoir etc etc. 


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Herefordshire, United Kingdom
Born in 1975 in Brixham, in glorious Devon. Spent most of my youth in grimy birmingham. As soon as i was able at 18 I moved to beautiful Herefordshire. Where i remain to this day. Work at Locks Garage, famous for our ice creams. Generally wonderful place.
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