Old Fashioned Guilt and Fun

Sunday was an old fashioned day! We started it by going to church in a little chapel in Wales, with our hosts. The people were very friendly and welcoming, and the visiting preacher had some good things to say about love and charity out of 1 Corinthians 13 - but he sounded like something out of Charles Dickens - lots of words used you don't really hear spoken anymore in everyday conversation. As we discussed the service afterwards, travelling along the M5, we had both gained the sense of being in a bit of a time-warp. Maybe that is the way of the small Welsh chapel? Whatever, it is always pleasant to join with others in worship.

Rose, Sunday, outside the chapel. Reformed Welsh congregations don't mince their words with their PR! We like to think we are prepared, so Rose's worried look was mere photographic licence.

Afterwards, we headed for Shrewsbury in Shropshire, to meet up with Rose's cousin, Nick, and his family - Jan, Jack and George. What a delightful family, and we had a wonderful time catching up and getting acquainted with Jan and George who we were meeting for the first time. A steam festival fair thingy was on over the Bank holiday weekend, and we spent a few hours really soaking in the atmosphere, enjoying the lovingly and beautifully restored engines of yesteryear. Briefly, we felt a bit guilty, because the preacher earlier that morning had been delayed by the traffic going to this fair, and had made a comment about all those people going out and having fun on the Sabbath day. I wonder if having being to church first to hear him say that, so we could all nod our heads in agreement, offset our great enjoyment of the steam engines later? A sort of a spiritual version of offsetting one's carbon footprint.

Nick & Jan Gibb - spot the family resemblance between Nick and Rose! Here's a clue - look somewhere between the eyes and mouth. Dead give-away.

George Gibb Esq. did not really want me to publish a picture of him wearing this authentic top hat, but I think it makes him look so dashing that I just had to. I could not get him to lean against the wall, legs and arms crossed, like an Eaton schoolboy though - just way too uncool. And anyway, young George was sort of allergic to my camera, and managed to get out of being in most pictures. So, here is a slightly cooler picture of George playing cricket with his dad in their driveway.