Father Christmas' windows

Weather notwithstanding, we've had a wonderful day! CleanSteve suggested a little trip, and I thought of nearby Newark Park, a National Trust property on the Glos/South Glos borders. Just then it started raining, and I was glad to be going somewhere 'inside'. Yesterday I managed a 5-mile walk along the canal without getting wet, but today looked ominous.

The house, which was donated to the NT in 1949 by the Clutterbuck family and run as an old folks' home, looked pretty dour in the autumnal light, but inside is another story. The original 15th century hunting lodge was added to and extended, with windows giving spectacular views over the Cotswold escarpment. In 1970 it was 'saved' by a Texan, Robert Parsons, who had first seen the house as a soldier during WWII, and came back to take on the job of restoration. Bob and his partner, Michael, saved the property from falling into romantic ruin, and furnished each room lovingly. They clearly had a fascination with swans: there are porcelain swans in nearly every room, amidst paintings, antique furniture, and four poster beds! The overall effect is a feeling not of being in an antique shop or stately home, but of old-fahioned comfort.

"I could live here!" I thought, "if I had a plentiful supply of long johns..."

CleanSteve has blipped the house here.

Having been to Newark park before, I was keen to return to the churchyard where "Bob" is buried. So, after a pitstop on the terrace for bacon and pork-and-leek sausage rolls ( it really was a windy, autumnal day !) we drove off towards Ozleworth Park estate and church. We got a bit lost on the way, and CleanSteve noticed a set of stocks in a field! The Cotswold stone wall surrounding them was in good nick, suggesting they had been cared for. Perhaps they are used...

Ozleworth Park is a house set in parkland, with a bridle path leading through the swathes of prime estate to the curious Norman church with its hexagonal tower. The church of St Nicholas of Myra is now 'redundant' meaning it is cared for by a charity, but rarely used for services. It's a peaceful place, and one I would happily return to, time after time. I blipped one of the 19th century windows, and just to be contrary, I have rendered it mono! This Square September challenge is really getting my goat!
And I'm still with the black-and-white theme, after yesterday's exhibition.

St Nicholas of Myra is apparently the 'original' Father Christmas; the saint's bones are referred to in Alexander McCall Smith's book, The Finer Points of Sausage Dogs. I have it on CD and turn to it in my darkest moments, as well as on holiday. It never fails to raise a laugh.

I found "Bob's grave". It says

Robert Parsons
TEXAN
1920-2000
late of Newark Park
where he laboured long
to reveal its beauties
and was a friend to so many

Requiescat in Pace



When we got home, the autumnal nip was still in the air, so I made a courgette cake, and we lit our first fire. Bomble is very pleased with it.