Eccentric Amblings and Ramblings From Gnat Bottomed Towers

Common Quaker Small Quaker Early Grey We've only been putting the trap out once a week or so and am delighted with our little haul. Hope you all have a fabulous weekend. Arilx

  This is St Peter's in Hascombe and looks for all the world like a 13th century church. However, looks can be deceiving. There has indeed been a church on this site since that time, but it had fallen into such a state of disrepair by 1862 that the decision was taken to knock it down and rebuild this one by Henry Woodyer in a nod to the same period in 1864. It's built from the locally quarried Bargate stone. I hadn't planned to stop, but as went past much to my amazement I noticed it was open...such is the novelty of this that I didn't need to be asked twice. Had you told me beforehand that it was going to be a Victorian/high church combo I'd have definitely not bothered.....fortunately I didn't know that at the time so was completely unprepared for what awaited me......... How about OMG. It might be a small parish church in a tiny village, but it punches way above its weight. Absolutely glorious. I was actually lost for words by the beauty and rich colour of th

 Mr GBT works very hard both within his business and at home, so I like to try and organise a little venture out somewhere over the weekend to make sure he gets a break. There's a lot of wisdom in a change is as good as a rest. Wanting to see the stone circle provided the inspiration for the walk we did around the small village of Hascombe and up above it in the Surrey Hills.  This piece of public sculpture is by Tom Nicholson Smith and is called "Grains". It's inspired by the grains in the greensand. This in itself is apparently a special type of sandstone that runs in a ridge from Kent all the way across Surrey and into Hampshire. The design is such that it's intended to be used as seating. It never ceases to amaze me just what turns up in the woods. This is a very rusty old piece of farm machinery [harrow Mr GBT says]. I rather like it when we stumble across this sort of thing. Mainly photos today. We were in for a rather fabulous surprise at the end of the wal

Arilx 

 A date from so many years ago might seem like a funny thing to use as a blog post title. I don't recall what happened during the daytime except I was pretty fed up by the late afternoon [probably tired with looking after an energetic little boy] and my friend WW's car had broken down. At that time I was a member of a now defunct group called Positive Living which used to have monthly speakers on a variety of spiritual topics. That month it was by a stonecircle builder and frankly I thought I'd probably give it a miss as I had visions of a slide show of naff things this chap would have made for your garden. At the last minute WW and I had a change of heart and decided to go. Arriving there to be met by a bloke in a purple cloak with a dog and long grey hair surrounded by crystals didn't do much to change my mind. Then this chap spoke and I was mesmerised from the word go. In front of me was a person who managed to be erudite, charming, magical yet refreshingly grounded,

 Now knowing me as you do you would probably expect at the very least a dragon on this English Saint day, but no I'm ringing in the changes and offering up a slightly more unexpected picture of bluebells.  You might not know that the bluebell is the flower of St George as its flowering season traditionally started on 23rd April [it's bang on this year then] and rather charmingly it has also been called Granfer Giggles, Witches' Thimbles and Cuckoo's Boots in the past. It is an ancient woodland indicator. The plant is poisonous, but in previous times its sap was used to bind books [it repelled insects], glue feathers to arrow shafts and the bulbs provided a starch which was used to stiffen Elizabethan ruffs. As with almost any plant bluebells feature in folklore. It seems that you might be in all sorts of potential danger if you enter a woodland at this time of year. Beware if you hear a bluebell ring....that will attract a malevolent fairy who'll have your card mark

My friend S moved house into a road much nearer to me at the beginning of the year. We haven't met for a few months whilst she's been getting herself settled, but that was rectified with a cuppa and slice of cake [she bakes delicious treats] in her sunny garden on Monday. Funnily enough we had cancelled from the week before due to the freezing temperatures and snow...can't think why that wouldn't appeal😆 Whilst there S gave me this....given to her via another mutual friend who thought it might just appeal to me. Honestly sometimes I think others know me better than I know myself! The sheer joy of them....I feel that I might need a couple to join me here at GBT and that a trip to the wool shop might be in order. Haven't knitted anything in ages and am not terribly confident, but then I'd have told you that I couldn't make the gargoyle either a few years back yet the motivation was sufficiently strong to tempt me to have a go and now he sits proudly on my boo

 The wonderful thing about visiting Nymans is that although it's very familiar to me it is never the same, so without further ado sights from around the garden and woodlands with accompanying notes as needed. Most of the time the images are self explanatory and speak for themselves. Five star bee hotel.....only at the National Trust😁 Whilst I know a standard Grape Hyacinth when I see one this "Touch of Snow" was a new one to me. This one too I have seen in a yellow form, but didn't know its name...a bit of googling tells me it's a Fritillaria. They're very exotic looking and tower above everything growing alongside them. Having had a week of more clement weather Nymans was a little more obliging on the blossom front that Winkworth was the week before. I did catch a glimpse of my first ever bee fly, but it wasn't hanging around long enough for me to get a photo. Lots of the visitors never make it to the woods, but it makes a welcome contrast to the more fo

Not magical tales of imagined folk, but real people after whom the woodlands on the Nymans Estate have been named. Hard as it is to read the first one is Pookchurch Wood. I can't find much online about him, but Reverend Pook was known to tell Bible stories to anyone that would listen from the raised dais that projected out from one of the natural sandstone outcrops.  It's become known as Pook's Pulpit and there is now an ongoing project to record the built up layers of graffiti that cover it. Some of it dates back 300 years, but it's thought that there are probably carvings that are even older. Due to its delicate nature people are asked not to touch it, but the National Trust has created a 3-D model of it for anyone who's interested [me! me!!] https://sketchfab.com/nta.lse/collections/nymans-pooks-pulpit-segments Now this second board should read "Jack Reeding's wood", but I have inadvertently missed off the first letter. Mr GBT and I were wondering w