Healing, holiness and history
Lichfield Cathedral is the first UK cathedral to be used as a Coronavirus vaccination centre. And why not? It’s a huge undercover space, and, quite probably, it’s underutilised. It seems fitting for cathedrals to be places of healing once more, and for the community to benefit from their existence.
The second daff is flowering. Days slowly lengthen. I started walking at 4.20 yesterday and was still back, after a fairly brisk circuit of the fields with Jennydog, before darkness fell. She’s been unwell for the last couple of days – probably to do with eating something disgusting – so I’ve taken her off her normal food and put her on bland stuff (including boiled rice). She’s much improved.
Despite being closed to visitors, this little farm still needs to be looked after and maintained. Things wear out. Things break. Yesterday the chaps, ( the husband plus one other), were remaking and repairing a short run of wooden fencing. They just finished before the light went.
They’re at it again – my sister and my cousin – on the family tree/history trail. Regular updates are popping in by text, message and email. My sister’s tracing the Mansells back, (the direct line from our father), to South rather than West Wales. It’s quite a task as more ordinary folk tend to leave less of a written trail.
My cousin sends more random nuggets of information, often about the Blathwayts (from my father’s mother’s line). Friday’s snippet was that we share a seventh cousin – Benedict Blathwayt, a children’s writer. Without visual aids, I’m afraid a seventh cousin is a connection too far for me to grasp.
The smalls next door in the cottage were drawing and painting yesterday – a competition entry for Santes Dwynwen’s Day on 25th January. Though nowhere near as widespread as Valentine’s Day celebrations, poor Dwynwen, (unhappy in love according to the tales), is widely commemorated in Wales now as the patron saint of lovers. She’s also known as the patron saint of sick animals.