for a poke about those of the Palace’s rooms that are open, including the Great Hall and various Bishops' sitting/dining rooms. A lot of the surrounding grounds, including the walled garden, seemed to be undergoing maintenance when we visited, but we managed to have a bit of a poke about. Rather nicely, the whole thing was free of charge (well, except lunch, which we had to pay for).
After leaving the Palace we walked along the Thames back to Putney Bridge, then along Putney’s Embankment for a while where we saw a blue plaque celebrating a Fred Russell, allegedly the Father of Modern Ventriloquism (as opposed to Ancient?). Wandered up Putney High Street and had tea at a nice café on Upper Richmond Road that I’ve forgotten the name of – although actually I think it was Wallace and Co - before going home from East Putney tube.
Two blessed Closure Days on 20th and 21st meant that I felt obliged to seize the opportunity to return to Milton Keynes for another assault on its rental housing stock. Ray kindly offered to drive me, which saved me a hefty train fare and allowed us to stop for a vile breakfast at Toddington services on the way – one to be avoided in future, although in fairness it did have a Costa which with the wisdom of hindsight, we should have used. (The 'comments' section on Toddington's entry on www.motorwayservices.info is amazing, especially 'Edna Browne's rant - seems somewhat obsessed (excited?) by the prospect of naughty goings-on in public toilets. I have to say I did visit the toilets and they didn't stand out particularly in either direction.)
Lined up viewings of 7 or 8 flats, although in the end we only ended up seeing 4 as I decided that I liked the second, a litt
le c.70s flat-roofed one-bedroomed house in quite a cunning little development in Simpson, within walking distance of the OU and, almost as importantly, Simpson Village and a decent-seeming pub called The Plough, where we had lunch. As the rent is only £550/month I had assumed before seeing it that there was something wrong with it, but have concluded that’s just the difference in prices from Reading and probably the flat roof, as I understand these can put people off (philistines). Fascinating fact taken from Simpson's Wikipedia entry: apparently the civil parish of Simpson also includes West Ashland, which is distinguished by containing the national headquarters of Domino's Pizza.Felt a bit sorry for the agent who showed us around the third and scheduled-to-be-fourth flats we viewed, in Wooton Court in New Bradwell (much too far from the OU but I'd booked the viewings in some desperation). The first of the two was still tenanted by a chap who had evidently just cooked up a big vat of boiled fish, as the place stank - this coupled with the fact that all the curtains were still drawn and half the living room was taken up with a c. 60-inch TV made the place appear more than a little oppressive. On our way to the second flat, in the same development, the agent saw fit to tell me that it had until recently been inhabited by a woman who had had to be evicted because she was "living like a tramp" and the place had been given an initial clean but wasn't totally clean as yet. Way to market a flat. I immediately had visions of a Life of Grime/Homes from Hell-type scenario involving rooms stacked to the ceiling with rubbish, and became rather less keen on the flat before I'd even seen it. Luckily, we were fated not to see it at all, as the locks had been changed and the agent couldn't get in. Eventually followed the poor sweating chap back to his car, chuckling inwardly.
Took Ruth out to Quattro in the evening to discuss CfBT’s latest machinations and make defiant plans involving much clinking of wine glasses.
Got the train to Abergavenny on the Thursday morning and was met by Mum, who immediately whisked us off to give Waitrose a thorough going-over. We then drove to Wormbridge to have lunch at the Galanthus Gallery and Café – lovely lunch; neither of us was particularly struck by the art on show but we had a polite peruse anyway. Returned to the house to have tea with Dad and inspect the cats – Emrys has lost weight recently and has been taken to the vet for a battery of tests designed to identify thyroid problems (common in older cats), but has been pronounced clean for the moment, I sensed almost frustratingly for Mum given the cost
of the tests. Lydia also appeared somewhat slimmer than she was last year (something to be encouraged) though still a sturdy lass.Another sunny day on Good Friday and we went for a pleasant walk up from Peterchurch to the top of the ridge looking eastwards down into the Wye Valley. Stopped for a picnic before making our way back down into Peterchurch past Greenway Farm (whoever owns it really needs to tidy the place up - farmhouse loo
ked nice enough but land littered with abandoned cars, caravans and assorted random machinery) and down Mowbage Lane where Dad had a chat with a nice old chap about the flowers in his garden. Called in at the Nags Head for a refreshing drink before walking back to the car park in Peterchurch.On Easter Sunday I started, with the help of the hot steamy machine, stripping the wallpaper off the upstairs hallway in the house. Came off pretty well. Inevitably ended up wondering why, since I’ve hated the stuff for the five years I’ve lived there, I haven’t tried removing it before.
Since Sunday until time of writing I have been, unusually, afflicted with a cold and sore throat, so the remainder of the Bank Holiday weekend was a little devoid of activity. Curse this frailty.
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