Prairie

St. Ives 900 Year Charter Celebration

Last Saturday and Sunday - 19th & 20th June - 800 Civil War re-enactors from Fairfax Batalia descended on St. Ives to perform a mock {1645 circa} battle. It was all part of the 2010 ongoing celebration, to mark the historic 900 year old charter of this sleepy little market township. Fairfax Batalia are known for their high standards of performing with historical accuracy and imparting events in an educational fashion to the public. I thought it especially good for the children. They also set up a living history encampment. Here are some photos of the blacksmith. See that apple on the table ? I was hoping he would roast it on the fire for me. I was feeling a bit peckish.

 

 

 

The tent and workspace of the cane crafter. He was most likely taking a siesta in his tent.

 

Not sure what it was this gentleman does. He had food on that table but acted very busy so I dared not bother him to ask. I suppose he sold food. I'm very shy when I take photos and tend not to bother people.

 

He scripted and she wove baskets. I loved the man's costume - he really looked the part.

 

 

 

Here comes the militia. The costumes were highly authentic and the performers were really having fun with it. I looked really hard but Russell Crowe was no where to be found. Aye, aye, aye, so disappointed !

 

I assume those wooden baubles are carriers for gunpowder.

 

The charter of St. Ives was granted to the Abbott of Ramsey by King Henry I in the year 1110.  It allowed the Abbot to hold a fair at Slepe for eight days each year. Back in 1110 St Ives was still known by its Anglo-Saxon name, Slepe.  The St Ives 1110 charter is a few centuries older than the nearby townships of Huntingdon {800 year old charter} and Godmanchester {900 year old charter come 2012}. The granting of the charter is the moment Slepe changed from a village to a town.

 

 

The discovery of a stone coffin, which the Abbot of Ramsey insisted contained the body of the Persian bishop St Ivo, led to a change of name for the town. This discovery increased revenues for the abbot because pilgrims flocked to visit the saint. History does not explain why a Persian bishop might have been visiting a tiny place like Slepe.

 

The firing of cannons for this performance was quite impressive - the noise reverberated into my ribcage and made myself and all the little children next to me, jump like sissies with every ka-boom ! A hundredtimes louder and certainly more kick than my retired, puny Browning 410. 

 

 

This looked a bit painful. Don't think I'd care to be the man in the centre of the dog pile.

 

 

It looked to be real gunpowder charges the actors were firing. I love the grimace on the one man's face.

 

 

There they go again. Ouch, grunt, ugh !

 

The celebration also included a mock "blowing up" of St. Ives Chapel Bridge and a wreath laying ceremony at the feet of Oliver Cromwell's statue in the Market Square. 

 

I felt very privileged to witness this epic event - a once in a lifetime celebration !!

 
 
Thanks for reading prairie - share the love !!

The Manor

Two weeks ago on a Sunday, I made my way across the meadow to the picturesque village of Hemingford Grey. My plan was to visit the colouful gardens of The Manor.  I followed this little border collie, who seemed to know his way across the field. His master, who was walking far behind me was finding it quite impossible to keep up with the high-spirited canine. 

 

I love walking the path and observing the changes that the different seasons bring. So many pretty flowers in cottage gardens and rose vines, peeking out along the path, greeting you along the way. Since it's middle of June, some variety of flowers have bloomed full strength already and were showing signs of weary wear. Nevertheless, the colour of nature paces its glory and soon, the next cycle of blooms will appear for bees and birds and we, the appreciative admirers.

 

I stopped along the trail to take a photo of a water fountain that I've snapped a hundred times over. You may have seen it on one of my winter blogs.  Adorned with a naked cherub, clutching a fish, which spits water from it's mouth, I'm always compelled to take the picture because the setting is so mystical and overgrown with shrubs and trees. I was leaning into the wonky, wire fence when I heard a voice behind me say "are you okay dear?"  I looked up to see a white haired lady. She thought I was sick and was leaning over the fence to - well you know. No, no, I'm fine and thank you for asking. To which she replied in a rather haughty voice "well, it would've been rude of me not to ask you my dear." So proper, these English ! Little did I know, I would see her again in just a few minutes.

 

So back now to my mission - this is a winter photo of The Manor, taken by yours truly. It was the residence of famous author and talented quilter, Lucy Boston, who lived here for over fifty years {1892 - 1990} Lucy penned a series of famous children's books, the first one being - The Children Of Green Knowe. As many writers do, she fashioned the characters in her books after people she knew. This amazing woman published her first book{s} when she was in her sixties. 

  

There was an admission fee to be paid at the gate and lo and behold, the money taker was the same white haired woman who I met on the trail.  Her name was Kay and she was adorable. I commented on the overcast sky and Kay says to me; "Because I'm an optimist, I brought my sun hat and because I'm also a pessimist, I brought me {my} rain hat as well. So as you can see, I'm very balanced in attitude and well prepared for the climate." Her comment made me smile big. Kay suggested that I go first, to the back of the house and visit the secret garden. I was the only person in that stunning garden, just myself and some chirpy songbirds.

 

 

How charming is this ? A wood and iron bench, covered by a leafy, arched canopy of branches. It faced five, tree stump pedestals. My fantasy would be, to sit under this green canopy on a warm summer's night, listening to classical musicians {seated on those pedestals on comfy cushion of course} playing Bach's Double Violin Concerto in D minor 2nd movement - Largo. And sipping on a fruited Pimm's of course.

 

This ancient, sleeping tree trunk was at least 25 feet long.  Not only was it beautiful, covered in lichen and fungi, it most likely serves as home to hundreds of insects. Despite the fact it's no longer alive,  I like that this time-worn, wooden skeleton has been left here to sleep and to serve a purpose in nature.

 

Lucy Boston lived to be 98 years old, quilting and gardening, well into her last years. Her talented son Peter, was illustrator for her books and also grew up to be an architect. He shared a common passion with his Mother, to lovingly restore The Manor. Diana Boston, Peter's widow and Lucy's daughter-in-law, still lives here and fortunately for us, keeps the legacy alive. Diana who is also a writer, penned a book called "The Patchworks of Lucy Boston." The book includes history and photographs of Lucy's splendid quilts. 

 

 

 

Not only is The Manor surrounded by a vibrant array of  flowers, it's lawn is dotted with shrubby topiary, that are chiseled into the shape of chess pieces. It's a very fairy tale setting and a wonderful place to just sit and "be."

 

 

 

The Red Cross ladies were also there, serving tea, coffee and yummy home-made cakes and scones. I couldn't resist. I just had to have a cup of tea and a slice of apricot cake.  So quintessentially English.

 

Nostalgia - I remember when I was a little girl, my Mum having a set of these pretty dishes. I'm not entirely sure, but I think that they might be called "Blue Willow." One by one, over the years, they ended up broken or chipped. My Mum has one, perfect dessert plate left and still uses it for her toast.

 

 

I sat here at this table, sipping tea, stuffing my face with cake and taking in the lovely view. The sun soon broke through the cloud covering and along with the sun, so came more visitors to The Manor. 

 

On my next visit, I hope to take a tour of the inside of the house. At the bottom of this post, I'm including a link to the The Manor website, which details it's fascinating history, directions on how to get there and how to arrange to see the interior of this Norman styled house. 

 

It was difficult to tear myself away from this tranquil place - I loved sitting here amongst the flowers.

 

So off I go, following the worn path across the meadow, back to my St. Ives.

 

http://www.greenknowe.co.uk/
 
 Thanks for reading Prairie - share the love !

Cow Love

If you're a new reader to Prairie - welcome ! This is the 100th posting to my little Prairie blog and I'm dedicating it to my muse - the cow. After all, cows are the reason I started blogging in the first place. Up until two years ago, I only thought of cows as delicious. Although I've become close to them, I will eat the occasional steak and cheeseburger. And yet, after endless hours of observation and interacting with bovinus, I consider them to be more than just dinner. I now see them as intelligent, interesting and extremely entertaining creatures. Let me tell you a few reasons why I love cows so much.                                  

 

 Cows are funny. I get the humour in them. 

 

Discriminating and fussy. Here are my mates sheltering under the trees outside my window, finding cover from the rain. You and I would do the same thing, right? See, not so stupid after all.

 

I swear, sometimes I feel they're trying to communicate with me. Look at the ears. Like some sort of secret cow language, these ear wags. 

 

Right ear.....

 

Now the left ear. The tail swishing must be part of the secret code also.

 

Cows are colourful and romantic even.

 

Cows can be a surreal mix of fact and fantasy. They appear in fairy tales, fables and limericks. 

 

Artists sketch them, painters brush them into different settings and colours.

 Just like me - they love to kiss !!

 

But the thing I like best about cows, is the poker-faced stare. Deadpan. 

 

There it is again, the stare. This, is why I stand in a field, getting sprinkled by rain, annoyed by gnats and having to smell the cow poop on my shoes, to capture that stare - that's my reward. And it only happens for only a few seconds and then, the head goes down and it's back to some serious eating.

 

I know what you're thinking. The woman takes too many photos of cows. You're thinking I'm a nutter. Let me say in my defense, that I'm not the only photographer who has become consumed with a subject. Take for instance, Alfred Stieglitz, the renown photographer, who took over 300 known and catalogued photos of his wife's breasts, stomach, buttocks and other bits - over and over and over again. I like to think, that my cow's bits are far more interesting than Georgia O'Keeffe's bits.                                  

 

Cows are posers - they are experts at juxtaposing. 

 

So because it's Prairie's 100th blog post, I wanted to celebrate by having a little contest. The Reader who can come up with the funniest caption for the photo below, will win one of my lovely cow cards. Remember to think like a cow !

 

So I love you and leave you now and end this post with a few inspiring cow quotes.

"All the good ideas I ever had came to me while milking a cow" Grant Wood - American Artist                                                  

"Opie, you haven't finished your milk. We can't put it back in the cow you know." Aunt Bea - Mayberry RFD

Who was the first guy who looked at a cow and said "I think I'll drink whatever comes out of those things when I squeeze them"  Calvin and Hobbs - Fictional Comic Characters                                                                                        

"If happiness truly consisted in physical ease and freedom from care, then the happiest individual would not be either a man nor a woman: it would be, I think, an American cow."  William Lyons Phelps - Educator                                         

"Don't have a cow man."  Bart Simpson - The Simpsons                                                                                                                    

"I'm all about cows and the proof of it is on the bottom of my shoes."  Marsha Stewart - Author of Prairie                                            

Thank you for reading Prairie - share the love !