Disfigured?

A couple of centuries ago, some of the denizens of Bourton-on-the-Water may have taken against the demolition of their church's Norman nave and tower. But was it disfigured by the Georgian replacements? Pevsner thinks not, and who am I to disagree with Pevsner?

We visited the church this morning, on our way to lunch in Upper Slaughter. And on our way back, we diverted a little further South along the Fosse, so Caroline could take the opportunity to buy bacon at Castle's. We found Northleach Square taken over by a film crew: Mark Savage's wine shop had become "Mollison's", and Pulham's bus was forced to stop in the main road, holding up all the traffic. It transpires that the great Gambon is in town, playing Howard Mollison, owner of the eponymous eatery in J.K. Rowling's The Casual Vacancy, being filmed for TV.

Not disfigurement, more transformation - putting me in mind that today is the feast of the Transfiguration.

Cake time

A day late, we celebrated Agnes' birthday yesterday. Nine of us, at lunchtime (Ida had a tea party to attend). Mini made a beautiful cake, adorned with blackberries, and raspberries from the garden. It was warm enough to drink our coffee outside afterwards, but this long Indian Summer must tail off soon surely.

This evening, we have been to a play reading: No, I just don't believe it! (a two-hander by Jean-Claude Grumberg) has been performed in its original French, but not in its English translation. It's about Alzheimer's creeping up - a bit near the knuckle, both for me and (perhaps) the cast. Michael Gambon and Frances de la Tour's presence on stage ensured the big tent was packed. The hour-long reading preceded a discussion between the translator, Jonathan Kent and critic Agnès Poirier - a little drawn out, but more thought-provoking in some ways than the play.