Today I attended, for the first time, the meeting of the Ladies’ Group in Great Tremlett Church.
Imagine my disappointment to discover that not one of them is a member of the aristocracy, and only the Vicar’s wife could even remotely qualify for the term “Lady” due to her connection with the clergy.
I shall be speaking to my father, and asking him to instruct the Vicar to rename this the “Women’s Group”. At least this would be accurate.
Rt Hon Alicia Cholmondley-Cholmonley, Cholmondeley Manor, Woodby Chapel End.
As the members of the congregation will know, I have been boycotting services at St Mary’s Church since the reordering of the third pew from the front. My grandfather sat in that pew, and he would never have approved of a kneeler with a rainbow on it. If he knew what rainbows mean in the 21st Century, obviously. My grandfather, in his innocence would unwittingly have approved, thinking it was merely a depiction of Noah’s Ark – fooled by the image of Noah, the dove and the Ark. They were simpler times.
However I have taken to hiding in the shadows at the back of the Church in lieu of attending the services. Last week, the Vicar came in to say Evening Prayer and was the only one present (Mrs Munchley was at the doctors, I discovered later when listening at her wall, though I cannot find out where Mr Cheese was. He normally attends on Wednesdays as it gives him enough time to drop in before dinner). So, believing that he was on his own, the Vicar omitted to bow to the altar.
I am shocked. I had always imagined that the Vicar is simply “pretending” to be an Anglo Catholic when he is Great Tremlett. I insist that the Church Wardens install a webcam immediately. They can then check the recordings for any more liturgical outrages at their leisure.
Sibelius Bunce, Cold Lane, Great Tremlett
Can I congratulate the editor on the inspired new format of the magazine! I don’t know whether it is the ink or the paper, but it smells fantastic. I have volunteered to deliver the August edition to all the houses in the village. However could you bring them around a day or two early. I plan to spend a couple of days with them in my bath.
Major J Dumpling, “Rodney’s Rest”, Lt Tremlett
I see that the Vicar has not listened to my warnings regarding St Mary’s Well, which he discovered while gardening in May.
Noticing that he has indeed engaged a team of archaeologists from “Anglian Archaeology” to excavate the stonework, I proceeded immediately to the diocesan offices to demand that the Registrar put a stop to this: on the grounds that the vicar had no faculty; that he was encouraging Papish superstition; and that, should he discover shale oil, he might start fracking.
Unfortunately the Registrar was on holiday. But I have now received a letter telling me to “put a sock in it, you silly man”. Admittedly this is from my wife, who is suing me for divorce, and not the Registrar. But the sentiment seems very clear nonetheless.
Martin Moraine, “Purity House”, Little Tremlett
Fifth Sundays are normally a time of great solace and refreshment for me. Since there is an “Everybody Together” service at one of the five churches in the benefice, I just stay in bed. Gives the car a rest, as well.
The August service, however, is at Grilsby on the Hill. And, as Church Warden, Treasurer, and Lay Reader, I really ought to attend. But the Vicar has this odd rule that each parish must make its own contribution. Hence, on the last three occasions, the music group from Little Tremlett has played a medley of “Lord of the Dance” and “Shine, Jesus, Shine” on recorders and piano accordion.
I have contacted the music group leader at Little Tremlett, Miss Dorothea Naysayer, formally to request that the group refrains from disturbing the peace in this way. I have received no such assurance.
I must therefore inform you that Grilsby on the Hill is at war with Little Tremlett.
Jeremy Stairswell, Crow Lane, Grilsby on the Hill
I am pleated to felt you that, Arthur fears of being a technophone, my nice Anaemia has bought me a phobe for my broth day.
So this moth I can sand you my litter via the Outlook Oxbridge Emily progress!
It is a very clover smirk foam. It even has auto corrupt.
I am going to oose it to reed the Church wobble sight. Just as spoon as I switch on 5g or whiffy!
Chesney Peterson, Walnut Grove, Lt Tremlett
(Editor’s note – the email actually was actually signed “Chelsea Patterson, Wallet Grave, Litter Trembles. I am guessing that, as Chesney posted his phone through the door, he still hasn’t worked out how to use the WiFi. Or, probably, bought a modem.)
I have a dream, a song to sing
To help me cope with anything.
Samantha Giblings, Church Green, Woodby
I regret to inform you that, at the last general meeting of the Friendship Group, we agreed that we actually didn’t get on very well at all. So we’ve wound it up. There didn’t seem much point, somehow.
Romilly Randers, Cave Road, Little Tremlett