Between The Lines, March 13, 2015: I’m only visible to the profane

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She had been attending her particular church for many years and, after she died, her family thought a fitting epitaph for her headstone would be ‘She was Thine’.

Unfortunately, the stonemason made a mistake, and the headstone turned up saying ‘She was Thin’. Understandably, the family was distraught, and asked the stonemason to please correct the mistake, by inserting the ‘e’. Sadly, the headstone came back with the epitaph ‘E she was thin.’ (Apologies to those of you who may know this story)

I remembered that the other day while walking through the grounds of St Nicholas’ Chapel in Lynn, currently being restored. It will be wonderful to have this beautiful church back in working order again. It will also be wonderful if the bells can be reinstated and rung. Now, without boring you with all the whys and wherefores, I’m not sure God is really my cup of tea. Until he/she/it can actually prove his/her/its existence (a bit like Elvira, the departed first wife of the main protagonist in Blithe Spirit, who moved a vase from the mantelpiece to prove her existence to the current wife) I will remain unconvinced. However, I love churches, and we have a wealth of them here.

I also love the sound of the bells being rung and, to anyone who objects to it, I would suggest you don’t live near a church. I would run naked through the streets of Lynn if I thought it would raise some money towards this good cause, but I fear it might empty the town instead; I don’t want to frighten the horses as it were.

Mind you, I’m not sure if anyone would notice if I did run naked through the town’s streets. I might have mentioned before that, as a woman of a certain age, being somewhat vertically challenged, I am virtually invisible.

The only time strangers talk to me is when they are swearing at me, which happens quite a lot actually. You see, I just can’t keep quiet when I see anti-social behaviour. Yes, I know, I should pretend not to have any eyes and ears, and life would be a lot easier. Generally, though, if something makes me see red, I just can’t help but wade in with my two penny’s worth. A couple of days ago in The Walks in Lynn, just such an episode happened.

The ‘gentleman’ in question told me to “please go away, you flipping old bag”. Actually, that’s not what he said, but this is a family newspaper. This is not by any means the first time this has been said to me.

I must dash off now for a trial run through the town – the only thing is, I absolutely must keep my hat on. There is still a very keen wind out there.