Travelling "home"

By the way, the new header photograph is taken in Totnes too, being a view of the Rivert Dart just below where my Brown ancestors were living in the 1840s.

My eldest daughter smiling at the sign on the fish shop! The joys of walking the back streets of a town. This was in Ticklemore Street.

From Bovey Tracey we drove down to the South Hams, to Totnes, where I wanted to do some family history research. It's a few years since we were last there, when we were on holiday and stayed at Stoke Gabriel - which we later discovered was where my Bow ancestors originated, being mentioned in parish records from the 1600s onwards.

Some of them then moved to nearby Berry Pomeroy, and Littlehempston, and by the time my grandmother and her sister were born in the 1890s, they were living in Totnes, and many other family members were nearby.

I spent some time this week researching where they were living - or rather, trying to pinpoint where those houses and pubs were in present-day Totnes. The Lord Nelson, below, was where my Rogers branch of the family was living in the 1891 census. I should imagine it has changed little over the years. I will post more photographs tomorrow.

Of course we couldn't resist a thorough wander round the town, and it was every bit as nice as we remembered it.

Tucked away off the main street are such architectural gems as this beautiful building with its Gothic windows
.

A very famous Totnes view . . .

This old shop would have been very familiar to my gran, who was born in Totnes in the 1890s.

I took a photo of this side of the memorial, as there are Scobles in a branch of my family tree.

Many hours of dedicated sewing went into making this beautiful quilt, which hangs at the back of St Mary's Church and encompasses Totnes' history.


Here is a glimpse of the past in the sumptiousness of the gold-painted carved pillars of the rood screen. You can just see the Harvest Festival decoration of local apples.

A close-up of the apples which were tucked in between the uprights looking through the rood screen towards the alter, with its beautifully-embroidered alter-cloth.

One of the lovely old houses in Totnes (still Fore Street I think). You can just see the date of 1585 carved into the decoration across the front of the house, so Ann Ball lived in a brand new house at the time of her marriage.


Walking home to the car, the late afternoon sun.

House-hunting and family history

We drove down to Devon yesterday to view two properties. We were so lucky with the weather which, as you can see, was absolutely beautiful - it couldn't have been a more perfect day if it had tried.

After house-viewing, we drove to Hennock to take some photos for my family history notes, as this was the village where my dad's paternal line lived in the 1800s. Then we dropped back down to Bovey Tracey, where he grew up, and had a stroll around the charity shops where I found a great jigsaw puzzle featuring a coaching scene - 1500 pieces - so that should keep me quiet for a bit! We bought some cheese for lunch in a local deli, but ended up having it for supper instead as we had packed a picnic and baked some muffins, and they sufficed.

Then we went on to Totnes - where my dad's maternal line lived - but that will have to wait until tomorrow . . .

The Palk Arms in Hennock. You can just see a scrap of the fabulous views to be seen across the Devon countryside.

One of the village houses with a lovely jettied room over the entrance.

This splendid period farmhouse is at the top end of the village, beyond the church. I would LOVE to explore inside!

This engraved stone is dated more realistically 1603 than 1003 [but I cannot transcribe what it says (or translate it!)]. I've looked more closely and think it says: Here lieth Richarde Ashphell? ?? of Hinick ??? the last word is a pure guess though! Could be Hirtch - probably ending in h as the other h's have the backward loop stroke. Top bar could have been worn on the e? of 2nd last letter. Dunno!

From the church path - towards the church, and below - looking back at the village street.


Part of the Harvest Festival decorations in the church porch.

The decorated base of the rood screen. Churches were such wonderfully colourful places until Cromwell's lot came along . . .

The upper half of part of the rood screen.

Such a magnificent decorated strip of ceiling over the rood screen.


Thomas Hyne, gent, was buried here. Abbotskerswell (as it now is written) is just below Newton Abbot.

One of the beautiful old cottages at Hennock.

Looking up the street, and seeing the big lump of a hill which is behind the church. The steepest bit of lane I've ever driven up leads you up from the church towards Hennock.

A glimpse across the road at the Cromwell Arms. Dad grew up in a council house behind the pub. He would probably have seen plenty of horses quenching their thirst at the water trough too.

A glimpse through an archway to this pretty cottage behind, with plantings of beautiful autumn-flowering cyclamens. I think I will try this myself for autumn colour.

Kitten-wrangling

I have tried not to get attached to these feral kittens, but of course, once they have been allotted names, and shown their character, and finally allowed you to stroke them, it becomes rather obvious that they are becoming part of the family. They are all boys, even Busy Lizzie aka Jarvis, who finally rolled over enough to reveal the necessary "bits". The two piebalds - Jarvis, the chunkier one, and my favourite, Tippy, who is like a black and white Siamese - are happy to be stroked and fussed, but the smallest and most timid ginger and white boy, Alfie, is still reluctant to be touched. I think this is probably because he got his leg caught in the clematis vine and I had to touch him to rescue him, and every time I try to stroke him now, he expects something nasty to happen. He has to be encouraged to eat more, so I find it hard to use food as the bait to make him accept being touched. I have to wait until he is eating, and craftily stroke his brothers to manage the softest of touches on his back. Then he will leap away and regard me with scared eyes. Poor little chap.

Anyway, they have had the wind up their tails this morning and have been fighting outside like little demons!


Tippy.

Jarvis and Alfie.


!

Alfie.

The start of another fight.


Tippy about to pounce.

Jarvis.

Walk along Top o' Bank . .

I decided to keep up my walking (3 miles, increasing, every other day again) and get out again this afternoon. I am now fit enough to do hills once more so I set off up our hill, with the sunshine soon persuading me to take off my sweatshirt and tie it round my waist. I found a few wild strawberries revealed when the hedge banks were trimmed recently and they were incredibly sweet and still warm from the sunshine.

The hill work, even though I took it slowly, brought out the endorphins and I soon began to feel great - that's the beauty of exercise.

I had intended to walk past the farm which had once been Rosina and Isaac's, but I got part of the way and decided really I would rather walk along Top o'Bank, so I turned and was soon strolling along the lane on the top of the hill above our valley. Fields and trees basked in the warmth, though Black Mountain and the other Carmarthen Fans were hidden in the haze. I stopped and had a long chat with a neighbour, whilst several of her dogs laid on the verge and sunbathed, eyes closed in bliss.

I carried on along the lane for another half a mile, stopping to take photos, and as I drank in the landscape, I counted the little farmsteads and smallholdings, and realized that I could name just about every one and who lived there. They are my community, and I and my family are very much part of it. We don't meet up very often, but when we do we have a chat about what we've been up to, and there's always, "have you heard about so-and-so?" which town folk would think is being nosy or "gossiping" and they always say "I'd hate everyone to know my business. " In a small community it is inevitable though, and I would say I would far rather this, than knowing nobody. It is normally a caring sort of "gossip" - we know the bad 'uns in our area, as well as those folk who might be having hard times, needing support. We look out for one another.

It has been a privilege to live here for so long, and it will be hard to leave, and to become newcomers in another community, to start over, making new friends and acquaintances. It won't be happening for a while, but it will come to pass. We are off to view two properties in Devon next week, as I am being pulled back there (not unwillingly, I might add, as my heart has been there for many years now). Whilst we are there we hope to drop down to the South Hams for a few hours to do some family history research. I can't wait.

Above and below - there are over 200 different sorts of Blackberries, and here are just two examples, still flowering bravely, though 98% of the rest have gone over for this year . . .

I meant to look this fungus up when I came in the house, but will have to do so and report back . . . Been to check Roger Phillips' excellent site and it's Helvella crispa . . .

Peeping through the hedgerow.

The Italianate tower of Pantglas in the distance.

Below - various landscape views from the top.




The lane ahead.

Black Mountain was hidden in the haze today.

Heading towards home. Pantglas tower in the distance.

An earthball in the hedgerow.