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Here's a photo of the lovely old graveyard in our village...

Where my eldest son is buried, (Ticehurst) in the oldest part of the churchyard graves, they keep a herd of Jacob sheep to help keep the grasses down. The trustees never have to go in with mowers or strimmers etc. The church goes back to the 14th century. It's amazing reading some of the old gravestones.

We were out clapping at 8pm and then we all sang Happy Birthday to an eccentric bachelor neighbour who is 80 today. He had no idea that word had got around that it was his birthday. We all gave him little presents and cards and one neighbour made a luscious birthday cake made with fresh raspberries and with an exploding candle on top! The cake maker disappeared for a couple of minutes then brought out the cake all cut up. It was a lovely sociable half-hour, standing in the middle of the road eating cake and chatting to those near neighbours who we’ve only seen from a distance for 2 months.

Churchyards are one of the last bastions for wildflowers but they do need a chance to flourish. Some people have an obsession with tidiness which prevents others from enjoying the natural beauty. Our meadow is a haven for wildlife at the moment but it does have to be managed to prevent it becoming a matted mess next year. In the summer it will be made into hay which will provide winter feed for a herd of Lincoln Reds. Very good quality meat!

On my wanderings in cemeteries, I always look for those who lived and died furthest back in time. Then I start thinking what they never saw; such as someone who never saw a car; or someone who never knew about electricity; or someone who'd gone before Victoria was on the throne; or they lived when Australia was unexplored; or when the Wild West was still wild etc etc...

As a youngster, during the early war years, my mum liked to go to dances at the church hall of St Peter's, Old Radford. Coming home in the blackout, she had to pass the churchyard on Churchfield Lane and ran all the way because she was terrified! Personally, I'd have been more frightened of German bombers than anything behind the churchyard wall. As a child, we sometimes passed that churchyard and it was quite large, overgrown, ivy-clad and neglected. I always wanted to go in and have a look round but mum wasn't going to grant my request and hurried past, even in broad daylight!

I think we’re kindred spirits, Jill! I find cemeteries very relaxing too, and they provide a reminder that life, indeed anything, is very transient. I also meditate, usually for 20 minutes! Can’t remember whether this is a throwback to my TM days or my later “studies”. Sorry, that sounds a bit grandiose!

Visiting Wilford Hill last year, as I do 2/3 times a year, I realised I was walking up the wrong row of graves, so carefully and respectfully I went to move through the graves to the correct row. The grass was above ankle deep and quite wet. As i walked around the one grave, the earth gave way and my foot dropped into emptiness up to my ankle. The grass was the only thing that was stopping subsidence, and I had the experience of discovering that. I don't feel comfortable in graveyards, and this experience strengthened this feeling. but while I'm still on this earth, I will always

Although Margie’s local graveyard looks a haven for wildlife I do have to agree with Brew. Where my Dad is buried, in the oldest part of Wilford Hill Cemetery, the area is not in good shape, a lot of the graves have sunk and headstones are at a dangerous angle, just a good job the council mows around occasionally otherwise it would be an ideal place to break an ankle, or worse. Incidentally, we’ve got an area of lawn that hasn’t been mown all season, there are no wild flowers growing there but the little birds are finding plenty of insects to feed their babies.

It's good to let the wildflowers grow in churchyards. Some of the church elders can get overzealous in wanting to keep things tidy. We have a few acres of meadow where we encourage wild flowers.

Haven't worn a watch for years.... and the last one I had was a cheapo from Argos I think it was. I couldn't care less about cars - as long as they get us from A to B safely that's all I require! I know I'm in the minority but I don't care about that However, I obviously believe that each person has the right to own/buy whatever makes them happy (as long as they can afford it) In normal times I do like to support Charity shops and that's where most (not all) of my clothes come from. I've never been a follower of fashion - I just buy what appeals to me at the time! I'm

The clocks on the ovens are easy to set.. but a little bit more tricky to get both to exactly the same minute.

Sounds like " Catch 22" Mary1947. Thing is, most kids his age can most likely already know how to ride motorcycles....Bloody nuisance, this Covid19.

Thank you for your words Bigsis, they're much appreciated. I too used to paint stones, way back in the late 70s. Your picture looks a bit like a Dutch painting, with trees and what looks like tulips, (tried to enlarge it to have a better look). We'll have to stay in touch so we can swap ideas. I'm already trying to get Mrs.PP to pick up her paints. Just finished my milk churn so I'm looking for something else.( I've done two shoe lasts for a cousin at Rise Park. Asked him to email me some pictures as I actually forgot to photo them before I delivered them). Keep in touch. Take care

I too love wandering round a cemetery, The Rock Cemetery being my favourite....Kev and I spent our 1st Wedding Anniversary wandering round there.....there is so much to see and read. Then you start to wonder what that person did in their life, what did they look like ?....Maybe that's just me, i have been called a little weird on occasion.....

Yes. Recently, going through a bit of emotional strife, I couldn’t sleep so got up and walked down to Gedling All Hallows church. Sat in the church grounds amongst the gravestones at about 1:30 am. Nothing but peace.

I don't doubt it, Carni. I'm expecting it to start raining frogs in my garden any minute!

He's probably watching you Jill, with a twinkle in his eye. He is missed by many.

With Chulla, it would be ABPW followed by ABTTW. Another bloody prayer wheel, followed by another bloody Tibetan Tonic Water! Oh, I do miss pulling his leg!

I'm with Jill regarding cemeteries. I love them and find it hard to pass one by. I find them so peaceful and love to read the headstones. I have escorted many a group of friends (Americans) all of the British Isles and they know they will tour a cemetery at some point because their leader is going to drag them in. The older the better. They actually enjoy them too. We called our tours A.B.C. Another Bloody Castle, Another Bloody Church and Another Bloody Cemetery!

I've quoted this before in a post somewhere. It's part of the lyrics for a song titled 'Buy for me the rain'. The third and fourth lines especially make a very valid point. I cannot buy you happiness, I cannot buy you years; I cannot buy you happiness in place of all the tears. But I can buy for you a gravestone to lay behind your head. Gravestones cheer the living, dear, they're no use to the dead.

BK - the memories of your boys will always be there in your heart and mind. No-one can take those away. The ashes of my parents are scattered somewhere in the gardens at Cambridge Crematorium. I've no idea if there's a precise location but that doesn't matter to me at all. They were very good parents to me, loving and inspirational (especially my mum) and I was privileged to care for them at our house until they died there.. of course, I miss them deeply but memories of them are in me and are still very real. I expect this will shock many of you but I can't even remember the date

We have a German Cemetery on Cannock Chase and it is kept immaculately neat and clean. All in perfect rows of white stones with inscriptions. I imagine when family come to England to visit the resting place of their loved ones, they can go home knowing they have been buried with respect and care. Thankfully not in run down unloved graves. It doesn't matter to me whether a graveyard is neglected or immaculate, they all give me the creeps. As a teenager, I hated walking up Arnold Lane past the Churchyard, and when I go now to Gedling Cemetery to visit the family Grave, I still get the same feel

There’s a world of difference between formal war graves and country churchyards. Churchyards, by their walled layouts are protected havens for wildlife. Whilst they should be kept relatively tidy around the graves there are lots of places where wildflowers can flourish and where animals and insects can take refuge. We are privileged to be the owners of a meadow which is home to rabbits and pheasants, dragonflies and a whole range of wildflowers. It is sad to have to cut it down at haymaking time but it’s necessary to manage it to prevent it from being badly overgrown and it does provide a stim

Brew, I suppose there is a difference between formal and informal (for want of a better word) graveyards. The huge American cemetary at Madingley, near Cambridge is pristine, the memorials are very white and in perfect straight lines. I visited once just because I was told it was impressive, which it is in a way, but for me, I just love the natural ancient churchyards where the sometimes wonky gravestones are quite randomly placed and the grass and flowers grow freely with minimal attention each year. i suppose I just like wild flowers and those grown in country gardens .... mu

Lizzie I am in touch with Trevor S, he is well. Tried getting him back on here, not succeeded yet.

I think most of us would be quite upset if the war graves commission allowed their cemeteries to look like Margies graveyard even if it would be good for Butterflies...

I agree that wild flowers should be encouraged, and that over-clipped cemeteries look too manicured, but there's a problem with a graveyard like the one in Margie's photo. Doing family history a few years ago I had a lot of experience of wandering around graveyards and falling down hidden holes like Alice in Wonderland. If you're looking for a specific grave and you've never been there before, you'll struggle to find it. Poking around trying to read old gravestones isn't easy when they are visible, but if they're overgrown by greenery it will be much more difficult to l

I agree that a certain amount of tidiness is required around the graves. The problem is that, in my experience, the overzealous tidiers want to hack everything down, even in the margins of the churchyard where the wild flowers flourish. The councils are just as bad, cutting back verges way beyond the need for road safety purposes. All grassland needs to be managed but there is a season to do that and Spring is not the time. Let’s enjoy the wild flowers whilst we can. To many wild flowers seem to be considered as just weeds. We even have wild orchids growing in our meadow.

I like to see a nice neat churchyard, a place that shows someone cares and has a bit of respect. Overgrown graves always seems so neglected as though they are an embarrassment somehow.

I haven't bought anything for several months. Waiting for Primark to reopen.

The problem is that I live a ‘simple’ life surrounded by material possessions none of which mean very much to me but I’d probably miss them if they were gone. Having a few acres of land enables me to keep my fellow men at a distance. It must be miserable to be couped up in a high rise flat.

I think it's true of many people that the older we get, the simpler our lives become. We realise that the dross, the materialistic aspects and the effort required to pursue the goals we thought were important in our youth just aren't worth the bother. It depends on what makes you happy but I firmly believe that happiness comes from within, not from anything obtainable externally. Others may disagree. It depends on your personal concept of happiness.

I'm not one for fancy clothes. A trip to Downtown or Edinburgh Woollen Mill once a year or less satisfies me. I only own one pair of shoes so I reorder the same style when mine are wearing a bit thin. I'm not really into material things other than I do like a nice car. We hardly ever eat out and never go to the cinema or theatre. A very boring and mundane life I lead but I've done all the things I've wanted to do years ago.

Couldn't agree more, Margie. The more possessions we have, the more we worry about them. Maintenance, being stolen, getting damaged, etc. We just tie ourselves in knots worrying about things that aren't important. My mother's maxim was that we should have enough for our needs and little else. Material possessions have never meant anything to me. They're just a problem. Each to their own but I prefer to keep it simple.

That's called a Chavitimer Brew. When I was in business there were many who thought they'd 'arrived' when they had a gold Rolex and drove a Jag. I've had a few Jags but never aspired to a Rolex. Just a shade too flash for my conservative image!

I bought one in Port Said docks Egypt circa 1980. The chap selling it swore that Allah would strike him dead if it was not genuine. He asked for 200 Egyptian pounds (£20) claiming it was only so cheap because he needed to feed his poor starving family. I offered him £5 and a bag of lentils but settled on £15. I still have it in a drawer somewhere, it's automatic and with a couple rocking movements still works

My late mother-in-law Flo gave me the 3 gold ladies watches she had. All bought at the same time by her mother in 1935. One for herself, one for her sister and one for her daughter Flo who was 15 at the time. At the time I was given them, may be 10 years ago, they all worked. i checked them a few years back and one wasn't working so sold it for scrap. One I wore a lot as the expanding bracelet fitted well. Driving around New Zealand a couple of years ago, we wandered into an antique store and the owner greeted us and spotted my watch. He asked if it was a Rolex, I said it doesn't say so. He r

I've never seen the point in expensive watches. I consider a watch as a convenient device to indicate the time so, as long as it can do that reliably and fit comfortably on the wrist, that's all I require.

Bits of the old Wollaton canal can still be found hidden among the houses where the slag heaps used to be.

This is only a trial mind. Hoping I've learned to post pics. Will try not to bore ya'all. B.