Guildford cathedral is the youngest in Britain at a mere 70 years of age (or thereabouts) I found it desperately stark but the height and soaring columns were still there, can't beat a classic can you?
This is the rear view, taken from the Children's garden where we had our picnic. You can just about see the bronze statues which fascinated my girls so.
This kept us quiet too - tucked away in the back of the children's garden. There is something deeply soothing about walking the labyrinth. No matter how many times I walk one or under what circumstances, it pulls me into stillness. I have never prayed a rosary but I imagine it is a similarly hypnotic occupation.
Here are two angels going spare, Eden is still working the Cistertian monk look, while Lily goes for the gargoyle angle.
The day previous we had gone to London on the train. It was very exciting. I am not a fan of cities in general but the lure of the finest museum in the country was too strong. I used to come here as a little girl and just loved everything about it - the huge space, the beautifully painted ceilings, the light, the quiet, the sheer amount of
stuff. Awesome.
I thought I took pictures of us in the Natural History museum. Really pathetically it turns out that I did not, we were too busy looking at cool stuff like blue whales and diplodocus and funky gibbons/ Neolithic's etc. V heads towards the creationist point of view in his theology, so it was huge fun watching him mosey through the gallery dedicated to the evolution of man...
The above pic is a stock photo taken from ecite. It was rather more crowded when we visited but I was still thrilled to be there. The children behaved really well too which made things easier but there was no doubt about it that it was a tiring day. I want to visit again soon, hopefully before Christmas but to come on my own and go to the Victoria and Albert museum and wander round Hyde park too if I can. V was truly amused at the thought of me wandering around London on my own and really if I think about it I can see his point. I get lost in Neath, a small town I have lived in for well over twenty years, if I went to London: the crowds, the traffic, the underground...the mind boggles. However, unrealistic bordering on the laughable, I
still want to go.
***
In other news, there has been crafting but it has mostly been disastrous. It is not often I get craft disasters but when I do, man, they annoy the hell out of me. It has sort of taken the wind out of my sails a bit I must say.
I started the icarus shawl with my gorgeous raven silk yarn and it brought home to me how truly appalling I am at knitting. So that is another half baked project staring at me from the craft cuboard. I've pushed it right to the back to but it is still hissing at me from the depths - what possessed me exactly?
I started a baby quilt for a friends new arrival and really it is bad. I mean baaaad. I can't bring myself to send it to her but the fabric is so nice ( and not cheap either) what a flippin' waste!
I carded up the
macabre dog hair/ wool blend for my batty old biddy and now it is just sitting there in batts, glaring at me and making me feel guilty that I am not actually spinning it. There by hangs a tail - that dog killed my goldfish - its true I tell you! I carded the stuff up too close to the fish bowl, some of the fibres must have gotten into the water and the daft fish must have eaten them - 24 hours later she was dead. I was fond of that goldfish and I haven't had the same look at that wretched fibre since
The good news is that I finished a baby blanket for a girl in church. It is a pretty yarn and soft though lamentably squeaky, acrylic is though isn't it? But no new mum is going to hand wash a baby blanket so wool is just not feasible.
Okay, I am wittering now. It is late and I am off to bed. Good night my dears.
