These days ended up following a pattern, in which only a couple parts could be changed, so I am writing about them together.
1) The bed was very comfortable, and therefore difficult to leave when my alarm went off at 7:30. (I have been keeping my daily routine as much as possible.) I wrote my morning pages in a deep armchair, showered and dressed, and went down to the kitchen as previously directed.
Stanley!
2) There I met my new friend Stanley, a springer spaniel Gail described as “a tart,” who does love attention and is very sweet.
3) After a hearty breakfast, we drove into Lincoln on Wednesday at midday so that I could see Lincoln Cathedral. We parked in the garage she prefers and then walked up Steep Hill, which is sort of the Newbury Street of Lincoln, but at a 45 degree angle. We stopped for a lemon-and-lime at the pub between the cathedral and the castle. Of course I could not help but think of Nellie in Alfred Hitchcock’s Stage Fright at the pub ordering “Gin and lemon, Mrs. Tippett — not to much lemon, dear.”
4) We had some time before a 1 PM tour to stroll about, and Gail pointed out a couple of the sights, including a) a well down which one of the Dymokes had been thrown, and b) the only remaining Roman-built arch anyone could still walk under.
Lincoln Cathedral, from the west wall at the front facing east.
5) Our volunteer tour guide, David, had his work cut out for him; the west end of the church was overrun with children as part of a Church Schools Summer Festival or something, and they made a lot of noise. I won’t try to share any of the church history (aside from the fact that I had trouble hearing him, others have already done better), but I specially noticed the new marker in memory of William Byrd “who in this place steered the course of English Sacred Music,” and the grave marker of one Robert Dymoke, King’s Champion, who appears to have died in 1735. (It didn’t indicate that he was thrown down a well, but then it was also in Latin, so . . . who knows?)
5a) I should point out quickly that I am not his namesake (though I have been nicknamed Sir Robert on occasion). I was named Robert for my mother’s uncle, Bob Houska.
5b) The big surprise, completely unimagined and unexpected, was the Duncan Grant Chantry in the back of the cathedral, dedicated to St. Blaise and first unveiled in 1959. Apparently no one in Lincoln liked it, and one of the priests said “I will not sing the mass before those legs!” So it was used for storage for decades, and only used as a chantry again in 1990. I thought it was brilliant.
St. Blaise by Duncan Grant.
6) After our tour — Gail obviously knows the cathedral better than I and told the guide he had pointed out things she had never noticed, so you can imagine how overwhelmed I felt — we adjourned to the café behind the church for a sandwich and soda. The museum and the art gallery both being closed, we headed back to the Grange, talking history and politics.
6a) Turning into the drive, I saw an actual pheasant!
Picture this church swagged with ropes of flowers and vines, including around the chandeliers. This is my dream.
7) Back at the Grange, we combined taking Stanley for a walk with a visit to Scrivelsby Church, where we found a couple preparing for their coming wedding there. To see all the Dymoke memorials and stained glass made me think so much of my cousin Hal (who had visited there in the early 1970s), and of Nancy Mitford’s description of Louisa’s wedding in The Pursuit of Love, with the church “flowery and bunchy and full of the Holy Spirit.”
The walled garden from a far corner. At far left is barely visible the small tent for civil services. At far right, you can see a bit of the large reception tent.
7a) But then came what might have been the highest of high points in this little visit, the walled garden. On my first visit in 2013, Gail brought us into this large walled enclosure containing only tall grass and six gnarled low apple trees. I could see the marks of the old glass houses on the white-painted brick walls. Gail noted that the estate workers were building a wellhead between the apple trees because they were thinking about hosting events there.
The wellhead now.
7a.i) Twelve years later, the Scrivelsby Walled Garden is winning awards for the weddings and events held there. The garden is beautifully landscaped, the walls dripping with white-flowering vines, and many likely-looking spots for picturesque portraits. A small tent for civil services, a much larger one for the reception, and well-planned service areas. Gail also pointed out the camping ground in the back, and the new restrooms. It’s a fantastic venture. I really could not have been more thrilled!
So many picturesque views.
8) It turns out that Gail is interested in both politics and black-and-white movies. Put those together and you get Seven Days in May and Advise and Consent. We set up in the sitting room and watched the first on my laptop with dinner on a tray (sausages with sautéed grapes and onions, most excellent). Daddy introduced me to Seven Days in May years ago because he admired Frederic March. And this is, in fact, one of his greatest performances. Gail loved it.
9) Thursday morning after breakfast I got a taste of country life accompanying Gail to get more chicken feed. She offered me Stanley’s lead as we ran errands in Horncastle, and then stopped at a coffee shop where Stanley is the idol of the staff. He was lying on his back with his ears spread out like Rita Hayworth’s hair in Gilda, loving all the attention.
Chickens!
9a) Later I got to help feed the chickens by hauling three nine-pound sacks of chicken feed to the chicken coop. And no sooner had they come out of the truck than the chickens manifested from wherever they were hanging out.
And more chickens! It didn’t take long for them to get back into the chicken run.
10) We also visited the small local history museum, which featured the area’s connection to Sir Joseph Banks as well as WWII civilian life. And we ducked into Horncastle Church, too, where Paul and I had visited in 2013. Then he and I were besieged by three very enthusiastic tour guides who would have been glad to keep us all day sharing the church history. Today the church was empty and cold — it was a gray morning — but I was surprised how much I remembered it.
11) The main event of the day was lunch at the home of a friend of the family, Bill, who lives surrounded by well-maintained gardens (he does the gardening). Gramma always said “No matter where I serve my guests, it seems they like my kitchen best,” and we had a lovely lunch in his cozy kitchen as a spacious blue table — so lovely that we didn’t end up leaving until after 5 PM.
12) In the evening we sat in the kitchen with my laptop and Advise and Consent. If you haven’t seen this, it’s a political thriller from the early 1960s, and it is a movie for our Current Moment. Charles Laughton’s last film, and one of his greatest performances.
12a) But (no surprise) I tend to focus on Gene Tierney as society hostess Dolly Harrison: “Somebody said once — a friend of mine, I’m sure — that any bitch with a million bucks, and a big house, and a good caterer, could be a social success in Washington. Do you think I’m a bitch?”
13) I’m getting introduced to a lot of British television this trip. Paul and Christian showed me Who Do You Think You Are? and Treasures of the National Trust, not to mention Eurovision (this has changed my life), and now Gail has brought me to News Night, which has an impact.
14) By quarter to midnight I needed to head to bed. Friday would involve some packing and a train to my next destination.
Look at that one, clever splash of pink. Genius.