Free Clothes

One of the outbuildings at the manor is a business selling film props from movies (www.propstore.co.uk if you are interested). Today there was a big delivery (3 shipping containers) from a film called Chronicles of Riddick. The store basically buys everything from the film set - props, vehicles, clothes, etc. - but this was too much, so they decided to get rid of the clothes. The word went out that there were free clothes up for grabs so I went along to see what was going.

Not knowing anything about the film the clothes could have been anything, but they turned out to be earthy-coloured mostly American made garments. They also had an Indian sort of feel to them, light weight, crumpled shirts, round collars, linen, etc. But all good quality so I helped myself! Digging through the boxes I managed to find four pairs of trousers, six shirts, a pair of Nike shoes, a pair of wellington boots, a leather sachel, ten pairs of socks, and a jump suit. We also found some camouflage wear that had featured in the film Ali G Indahouse.

With about 20 huge boxes to go through the whole thing had a Whisky Galore feeling about it. And funny to imagine the people of Chenies all going around in co-ordinated clothes from the same film.

Croquet with the Vicar

Every time either of us have bumped in to the vicar he has ended the conversation saying 'you must come over for a game of croquet'. After the first couple of times I assumed that this probably would never happen - a nice idea, and a pleasant way to end a conversation. But I was wrong. Tonight we went around for Croquet on the vicarage lawn. And very nice it was too.

There were two other couples from the village (God fearing people, we assumed) to make up the numbers and we started at seven. It was a perfect evening, clear blue sky and not too hot. Liz, the vicar's wife provided a few things to nibble while we were playing and off we went.

Although I'd played a few times before, I couldn't really remember the rules, only the main general of hampering everyone else. David (the vicar) didn't have a thorough grasp of the finer points of the game either, which kind of ruined the first few hoops for me. But being a vicar he says things in a very authoritative way which is difficult to question at any length. Still we managed to resolve the key question - do you get an extra go after you've roqued someone else's ball into the blue yonder? - by getting out the rule-book.

After that it was great. Croquet on the lawn, Wine and snacks, Manor house and church in the background, Village green down the road. Conservative Christian heaven.

Later in the evening after it got dark the conversation took several strange turns. We started talking about what everybody ate for breakfast, which led to discussion of how to use an egg coddler. From there we switched on to bird watching (everybody had heard the owls around, but not many had been spotted). We ended on vegetarianism when L. confessed that a bacon sandwich was probably not good for vegetarians. It was the usual set of arguments (screaming cabbages, leather shoes, etc.) which was somehow disappointing from the vicar who had obviously not thought deeply on the matter.

Not Talking to Felicity

I'd love to be able to pluck up the courage to go over and talk to Felecity as she waits for the next scene to be set up. I imagine what I could say: 'Hi Felicity I loved what you did in the Good Life..', 'Hi Felicity, I'm a big fan of your work...', 'Hi Felicity, I thought Solo was so underrated...', 'Hi Felicity, fancy a cup of tea?'.

I don't say anything, I just take a few photos from a distance and admire the way Felicity doesn't seem to have aged.

This week the ITV series Rosemary and Thyme is being shot here. The usual stuff: set dressers, camera equipment, props, make-up, catering, toilets. A temporary village is made in one of the back fields. There is quite a contrast between the people that control the set, brandishing walkie-talkies, and the actors whose average age must be somewhere in the upper 60s. Still the principal actress is Felicity Kendall, who I used to dream (read fantisise) about when she was in The Good Life. Going off to work on Tuesday at eight thirty in the morning there was Felicity, her back to me and her hair up. And surrounded by about 15 other people all looking extremely purposeful. I slipped by unnoticed.


Filming and Celebrity

Accepting the Job

As we flew back we discussed the postives (quite a few) and the negatives (not many). We had a few concerns. First, was whether or not Elizabeth would 'lord it' over us, and we really would begin to feel like servants. Having met her we felt this wasn't likely though. Second, the accomodation itself was shabby. We'd need to make changes - paint the place, put a shower in, etc. - would that be possible? Third, although there was furniture there, we didn't like it. We'd need it unfurnished. Finally, the place was cold. Mediaeval manor houses aren't really set up for modern living. Would we be able to open up the fireplace and have an open fire?

L. phoned and discussed our worries with Elizabeth, who put our mind at rest. 'You can do anything you want in there', she said. Having it unfurnished wasn't a problem either, and nor was opening up the fireplace. So we said 'yes' to Chenies.

More Overtures

The second visit gave a much more favourable impression. To start with it wasn't dark. L. insisted on taking the scenic route from the airport which made us late arriving. When we arrived there was a three-course lunch waiting, and four people waiting for us so they could begin eating. It was a lovely civilized lunch, accompanied by a glass of white wine.

After lunch we were shown around the house and gardens by Elizabeth and Dick, a trusted voluntary gardener and Rose expert. With each step the house was growing on us. The only down side was the accomodation offered, which was dirty, smelly, and more than a little bit pokey. I thought the problems where mainly superficial, L. was more concerned.

The house itself was great though. An interesting historical muddle. Great rooms, long rooms, four-postered beds, polished floors, diamonded windows; it was the real thing. We were shown a priest hole, and an armoury in the roof, where a republican army had been billeted in the civil war. It was a house riven with history and, even if it wasn't really to our taste, the thought that we could engage close up to this history was intoxicating. The gardens were even better. Again not to my modern tastes, but one could see the skill and dedication involved. The overall effect was stunning.

At the end of the tour (and the day) Elizabeth told us she'd had over 40 replies to the advertisement but that as far as she was concerned it was 'yes' and 'yes' to the two of us. She left us to think about it, however, and we drove away with the reality of living there a step closer. Yet still there was something holding us back.

Thinking it Over

In the week following we bounced the idea off friends who thought we'd be mad to miss the opportunity. Pay no rent and live in a mediaeval manor house - why would you turn that down? If you don't like it, they said, you could always leave and you wouldn't have lost anything.

There was only one problem, we hadn't actually been offered anything! We'd left saying goodbye, but no commitments had been made. People were still replying to the advertisement. We hadn't even seen the accommodation!

Still, the idea began to grow, and when Elizabeth phoned and asked us if we'd like to come over again to have a proper look round we thought why not? We booked flights for the day and arranged car hire from Luton airport.