Today I was visited by two vicars who had beards - which set me thinking. Why is it that so many vicars have beards, including their boss, the Archvicar of Canterbury? And are there proportionately more hairy vicars than hairy bikers? Of course the advent of women priests has probably ruined the vicars' chances of winning! And I don't know the answer to the Why. Suggestions?
Last week we called on our friend Judy in the Cotswolds. There's one remarkable grandmother. On the way back we visited Buscot Park, thanks to our new National Trust membership. No sooner had we arrived in the car park and Jane had pushed me to the ticket place than an angel with a Yorkshire accent popped out and asked if we'd like an electric buggy. He even yanked me up to sit upright in the seat. We didn't see him again. But we had a picnic and a great afternoon going round the gardens. The funny thing is that we'd never visited them in the twenty years we'd lived just the other side of Faringdon.
Another event of the week was reading The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas. What a stunning end! A deceptively simple story.