The village of Leintwardine, on the River Teme in far North Herefordshire, is where I stayed, in great comfort, last night. Its extremely active History Society asked me to talk about The Diary of a Shropshire Farmer.
Not only did the denizens of Leintwardine turn out in force, but I was given a splendid dinner (and breakfast) for my pains. And my hostess turned out to be a cousin by marriage, her grandmother featuring in one of the Diary's family trees I prepared as an Appendix.
The parish church's chancel hosts a collection of misericords: on the South side, they are ancient but much damaged. On the North, there are a couple of lively present day scenes, recently installed to commemorate the village pub's late landlady, Flossie, and the butcher (still happily with us). Andrew Pearson carved them.
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