Recommended Footwear

~ beetleypete ~ 2 Comments

After having the same pair of Summer flip-flops for quite a few years now, it was time for a change. I found some with foam-lined footbeds above the soles, and they sounded just right. Ordered yesterday, they arrived this afternoon.

They have a really nice ‘bouncy’ feel when you walk in them, and the material between the toes is soft and comfortable.

For a fraction over £20/$27 I think they are great value. They are also adjustable for a tighter or looser fit, but they were fine for me straight out of the box.

I bought them from Amazon. But they are available elsewhere, and there is a wide range of styles and colours for both men and women..

Just search ‘Coface’.

Agnes Of Laxton: Part Sixteen

~ beetleypete ~ 14 Comments

This is the sixteenth part of a fiction serial, in 754 words.

Although she rarely saw her mother, Agnes received messages about her from Peggy, whispered to her by the servant girls. She was much improved, and Mistress Peggy had her doing very small tasks that were not tiring. She was sleeping under the same table on straw-filled sacks that Agnes had once used as her place of rest, but the old seamstress had at least made her a decent dress to wear and some shoes and a shawl had been found for her too.

As Spring arrived, there was talk of a trip for the lord and lady. They were going all the way to London to visit influential relatives of Lord Ranulf. Baby William and the wet nurse were also accompanying them, but as a maid would be provided at the London house, Agnes was not required to travel with them.

She was disappointed at first, as London sounded like a very exciting place, and there was a chance that they would see the king himself. But Widow Perkin changed her mind, telling of her trip there many years ago.

“Oh, ’tis a horrible place, young Agnes, you are better off here. And you would not be of any standing in the house of the mighty de Beamont family, believe me. London is not Laxton, my girl, and even our own Lord Ranulf is little more than a cousin by name who has to earn his privileges here by showing fealty to his betters down there. They are taking baby William to be seen, that’s all. The noble duke will wave a hand in acknowledgement, and back they will come to this castle, their work done”.

To Agnes that seemed like a huge waste of time and money, but the preparations gave her the chance to see mounted soldiers of her lord who would escort him in their finery, and the covered wagon in which Lady Eleanor would ride with William and the wet nurse. Widow Perkin said it would take at least three days, perhaps longer, and they would stay at inns along the way. Three days or more in a wagon, even one well-appointed with cushions and covers, was not something that appealed to Agnes.

Once the family had left, life around the castle become very relaxed. Agnes was able to have her mother brought to her room to visit her, Mistress Peggy quietly served up extra delicious foodstuffs with nobody to ask her why, and even Widow Perkin was all smiles as she had so little to do.

Craftsmen also came in from the village to make minor repairs and alterations as they had the chance to work without disturbing the routine of the family. The moat was dragged to remove much of the filth that had accumulated, and the two main wells were maintained and dug deeper.

That time of almost three weeks passed peacefully for everyone, until the arrival of a rider just after first light one morning.

It was Sir Henry, the master of Lord Ranulf’s horse, who was an important man. His mount was exhausted, and Sir Henry appeared distressed as he brought news to the household. Agnes heard the wailing and consternation from below and rushed down to find Widow Perkin distraught, clutching at herself, tears flowing. She was refusing to speak, so Agnes had to ask Sir Henry what was wrong.

“Terrible news miss, the most terrible indeed. Lord Ranulf has come down with a high fever, and little William has died from it. Your lady seems well, but she has withdrawn into herself. Two of my men have also died. The rest are returning, and I have ridden ahead to get everything prepared”.

With Widow Perkin inconsolable, Agnes took it upon herself to order preparations. Despite her youth, her social standing gave her some authority, and she was not questioned. A footman was sent to the village to get Lord Ranulf’s personal physick. The bedchambers of her lord and lady were to be scrubbed clean and fresh bedding put out. Mistress Peggy was to get food ready, enough for the returning soldiers, and everyone else.

It was almost dark as the bedraggled company arrived, and Agnes rushed outside to the wagon to assist her lady. Men carried a delirious Lord Ranulf up into the castle as Agnes supported a red-eyed and tearful Eleanor. The physick went up with the lord to the bedchamber, and the atmosphere was hushed and grim.

Lady Eleanor was so upset, Agnes had to almost carry her up the steps.

Mid May Sunday Musings

~ beetleypete ~ 26 Comments

Hard to believe it is May, with weather more like early March. Most days this week we have had to turn the central heating on, and I am still not able to wear shorts, due to chilly winds and occasional rain. More rain forecast for the coming week, though it might warm up a bit.

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The weather put paid to any pleasure trips, but on Wednesday we did go to see Julie’s twin daughters as it was their birthday. We managed to see them both, and all three grandchildren, before heading off for an early evening meal at The Village Inn in Little Melton on the way home.

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Next Tuesday, we have plans to meet up with one of my oldest friends and his wife for lunch in the village of Ingham, Suffolk. He has booked a table in a hotel restaurant, and it looks like a nice place. https://thecadogan.co.uk/

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So, another quiet week has passed. May seems to be rushing past faster than ever, or maybe that’s just my age making it feel like that. I had a lot of computer issues this week, one reason why the latest serial episode has been delayed. Despite many restarts, clearing caches, and trying to update to the latest version of Chrome then finding out I already had that, the glitches persist. Much to my annoyance!

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For dinner this evening I am cooking Pork Belly, bought from our favourite butcher. Nice thick slices, accompanied by roast potatoes and other vegetables, and some apple sauce on the side.

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Make the most of your Sunday if you can, or just relax if you prefer.

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Getting Old Is Not Like Getting Pregnant

~ beetleypete ~ 43 Comments

This insightful poem was sent to me by Rachel McAlpine, an author and podcaster who also writes on Substack.
https://substack.com/@rachelmcalpine?utm_source=explore_sidebar

Preparing for old age is scary
scarier than getting pregnant
twenty thousand miles from home.
Now my body has to face
the prospect of extreme old age.
What scares me most is the unknown
and so I study hard. But hey

old age is not like pregnancy.
I’m carrying a void
and when I say I’m getting old,
nobody says to me, “How lovely!
Congratulations!
Is this your first old age?
When is it due?”

Oh no, they tell me:
“You’re not old.
You’ll never be old.
I’ve never met anyone less old than you.
It’s all in the mind.
Age is just a number.
Try homeopathy.”

~rachel mcalpine (from How To Be Old, Cuba Press, 2020)
© 2026 Rachel McAlpine

Songs I Like (251)

~ beetleypete ~ 27 Comments

Last week we watched ‘Simply Red Night’ on BBC2 and those songs brought back some memories.

Not least this soulful ballad from 1985, released as a single from their album ‘Picture Book’.

Holdin’ back the years
Thinkin’ of the fear I’ve had so long
When somebody hears
Listen to the fear that’s gone
Strangled by the wishes of pater
Hopin’ for the arms of mater
Get to me the sooner or later
Oh-oh
Holdin’ back the years
Chance for me to escape from all I’ve known
Holdin’ back the tears
‘Cause nothing here has grown
I’ve wasted all my tears
Wasted all those years
Nothing had the chance to be good
Nothing ever could, yeah
Oh-oh, well
I’ll keep holdin’ on
I’ll keep holdin’ on
I’ll keep holdin’ on
I’ll keep holdin’ on
So tight
Alright
Oh, now
Well, I’ve wasted all my tears
Wasted all of those years
And nothing had the chance to be good
‘Cause nothing ever could, oh yeah
Oh
I’ll keep holdin’ on
I’ll keep holdin’ on
I’ll keep holdin’ on
I’ll keep holdin’ on
Holdin’, holdin, holdin’ on
La-la-la-la-la-la
I said, “Ooh, yeah”
That’s all I have today
It’s all I have to say
Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Neil Moss / Michael James Hucknall

Agnes Of Laxton: Part Fifteen

~ beetleypete ~ 15 Comments

This is the fifteenth part of a fiction serial, in 761 words.

By the onset of winter, the exciting night of the feast seemed so long ago, and Agnes had heard no more talk of Francis de Beaumont. She was desperate to ask about him, but knew it was not her place to ask personal questions about the family of Lord Ranulf for fear of overstepping her place and causing offence.

Settling into life as the mother of baby William, Eleanor asked a question one evening.

“Agnes, what of your mother and family? What is their condition now, and how did you come to be here in Laxton castle?” That surpised Agnes, as her lady had never before asked about family. She instinctively told the truth.

“My lady, my father was killed in the war, fighting against Empress Matilda before I came into this world. Both my brothers were taken with fever, and we were left near destitute, with no money to pay rent. Father Dunham found mother work in the fields, but there was no place for me back in Tuxford, so I was bound to service in this castle, to the previous lord. I know nothing of my mother’s situation since”. Eleanor thought for a while.

“Well Tuxford is part of the manor of my husband Lord Ranulf, so I will ask him to send for word of her. A girl should have her mother nearby”.

The matter was not mentioned again for many weeks, until a night when a great blizzard enveloped the village and castle, so cold that Agnes and others slept on mats in front of the fire in the great hall, and fires were lit in the courtyard to warm the animals in their pens and stalls. Before leaving her lady, Agnes made sure she was warm under her numerous coverings of fur skins, and sent the maid for a large bowl of embers to heat the room.

Before dawn, Widow Perkin shook her awake.

“Get your heaviest shawl, Agnes. Men have come with a cart, and they say your mother is inside it. Go to see them, I will stand in for you if her ladyship requests assistance.”

Wrapped against the cold night air, it still took her breath away as she made her way to the cart which was standing outside the kitchen building. The two men bowed to her as she arrived at the back of the awning covering the cart. The shorter one spoke deferentially to her. “Mistress this be Marion Pike, from Tuxford. Is she the one you search for?” He held a torch up to the opening, the flame fluttering in the wind.

The woman inside was shivering, stick-thin, and seemed to be afraid. But it was unmistakably her mother. She called to her.

“Mother, it is Agnes your daughter, don’t you recognise me?” There was no reply, but tears ran down her face.

Agnes went inside to find Mistress Peggy. She told her that her mother had been found in Tuxford and brought to the castle, and asked for her help. Peggy was jovial, despite being roused early.

“Bless you, Miss Agnes. Tell the men to get her inside by the kitchen fires. I will get food for her, and somewhere comfortable to rest.”.

Once she had seen her mother carried in to be tended to by Peggy, Agnes went back into the castle. It would soon be time to see to her duties with Lady Eleanor, and to tell her the good news that her mother had been found.

As she helped her lady to dress, Agnes was full of excited chatter, and profuse thanks for Lord Ranulf’s men having found her mother. Lady Eleanor seemed happy for her, but then dampened the joy with what she said next.

“She will be cared for by the cook, Peggy. And she will be well fed, clothed, and treated well. But you must understand that her situation is too low for her to be accepted into the castle, I am sure Peggy will find some easy work for her in the kitchens, and you may see her when attending religious service in the great hall. Other than that, there should be little contact. That would most definitely spoil your chances with young Francis”.

Realising she should have known, Agnes still could not but help feel deflated. Her kind and hard-working mother was now going to be near to her, and cared for. But she might just as well still have been toiling in Tuxford for all the contact they would enjoy. She accepted her fate.

“Of course, my lady. I understand.”