Tombstone Territory

Researching our Family History we discovered that my husband's grandfather died in 1942 and was buried in a Devonshire churchyard. We made the trip to Devon to visit his grave. After a morning of searching we found nothing but neglect, - graves and their monuments lost beneath a jungle of unchecked growth.

In our own village most tombstones have been set against the churchyard's surrounding wall, - a directive from the H & S Dept no doubt! We decided to list them and draw a plan for any genealogists searching for their 'roots'. When we thought that we had finished we noticed dips in the ground, - grave-size!

Having started on this project, it is now a daily event, - up to the churchyard armed with edger, rake and broom. Removing years of turf and grass is rewarded by the the revelation of beautifully carved slate, individual works of art to which their engravers were justly proud to sign their names.

Village View

Almost a decade ago, on a sharp January morning, we came to the village looking for somewhere to live.

At the top of the hill we silently 'took-in' the panorama. Winding down the incline we rounded the last bend and the village was revealed; nestling there, not quite awake, exuding a contentment and an air of sanctuary. I recall saying to myself "Oh yes! Please let the house be OK".

Recently on TV we have been shown and invited to vote for Britain's Favourite View. We watched 'celebrities' climb mountains, slosh through bogs, run over fields and cross city bridges in their efforts to persuade the viewers that their particular choice should be everyone's favourite view.

We are still living in the house that turned-out to be OK on that January morning. We have been enveloped by the village and the warmth of its people. Not once have we rounded that last bend without my thinking "Yes! We're home".

That's my favourite view.