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Like the first morning…

bomb

After much rain, last weekend was supposed to be beautiful (spoiler: it was). We took ourselves to Alfriston, one of our favorite Sussex villages, inspiration for the hymn Morning is Broken.

I’ve posted about Alfriston before — a little town, but beautiful and much to see (if you want a better look a that mine, mash here; hard to believe it would have taken out the whole bidness).

There are an improbable number of ancient pubs for such a tiny place (perhaps because it was a market town). We settled on The Star. Legend has it the original name was the Bethlehem Star, when it was built in the 13th Century as a pilgrims’ hostel for the use of travelers between Chichester and Canterbury.

Others sniff that it’s only Fifteenth Century (do follow that link; lots of piccies of the carving out front).

If I were psychic, my lunch might have been oppressed by the weight of all the thousands of bodies who had sat just exactly where I was sitting to eat a meal. I am not psychic; I enjoyed my beer and pea soup very much.

Beer and pea soup. Better than it sounds.

More pictures later, but first: Xul has won dick (again) with Yogi Berra. Poor old bastard; I didn’t know he was still alive. You know what that means, of course: Dead Pool Round 77.

Be here Friday or forever hold your peace.

sock it to me

September 23, 2015 — 9:23 pm
Comments: 4