I should perhaps explain straight away that the Zumba and the gravestone injury were two separate incidents. Firstly, rain and other activities having stopped play for the last couple of months, the photographing and recording of the Buckland Brewer gravestones has resumed. Some of these were moved to the hedge some years ago and have been stacked more than one deep. Could I ignore the ones that were at the back and were now embedded in stinging nettles, ivy and other undergrowth? Having had a nasty encounter with stinging nettles when seeking a ‘comfort’ spot as a child, I enlisted help. Here I need to point out that the hedge against which the stones were resting drops some ten feet on to the road on the other side. My trusty companion clung to the top of the hedge on the road side, risking life and limb in an attempt to unearth enough of the concealed stones for them to be read. Then there was the stone that had slipped down from its original position and was only prevented from crashing on to the road below by the brambles. I had spotted this one from the road in the spring when it was less precarious and less overgrown. Knowing it referred to a smallpox victim, I was particularly interested. Lacking abseling ropes, retrieving this stone from its and probably an innocent passer-by’s, fate was not easy. Manfully Chris managed not to plummet backward whilst lifting the stone over the row against the hedge. Unfortunately, I somehow got my leg in the way as he did so. Good job it isn’t the weather for shorts. So RIP Mary Walter, we now know how you died.
Spurred on by the ‘benefits’ of my 5km ‘race’ for life – I decided I’d try Zumba classes, which have just begun in the village. Trying to ignore the lack of movement occasioned by the run and the growing egg shaped lump on my leg, off I set. It was actually quite fun and I managed to keep going for the full hour. I wasn’t even the oldest person there. It is a little akin to trying to pat your head and rub your stomach simultaneously but fortunately all the other participants were too busy with what their own arms and legs were or were not doing to worry about mine.