Extract from Sunday, 29th January, 1978:

. . . into Bourne Wood . . . The woods are quite extensive, and we walked in a circle of several miles.  There was the usual dispute on direction . . . and the difference between Roman Roads and ancient ways. This was, of course, an undecipherable mixture of oblique facts and plausible fictions, thrown in to disguise the gaps in the speaker's knowledge.

Eventually George and Harris were invited to make a categorical statement on which way we were travelling. George nominated Nor-nor-west by North and Harris Nor-nor-east by North. As the compass showed due North I was at first inclined to declare a draw, but with magnetic deviation . . . the winner must have been George. (I think?)

We reached "The Dug Out" by noon, and spent some time in conversation with Old Shep and one of his compatriots, who told us about the fifty-six gallon barrels they used to have in the old days. "Not these bloody little things," he said, gesturing to the back of the bar. He also remembered the barrels floating about when the Bull was flooded.

Extract from Sunday, 23rd April, 1978:

The Fodder Lots is an area of land near Croyland, lying between the River Welland and the dyke which protects the adjacent countryside from floods. The Pilgrims on this sojourn related tales of how the name might have originated:

Fodder Lots - At first the talk was most prosaic, George offering: "They grew lots of fodder there." But then imagination kicked in . . . .

Fodder Lots - In the old days of Croyland Abbey, an orphan was admitted to the munificence of the Parish. His name was Isaac, but eventually he entered the order and became known as Brother Lot. He proved to be a leader of men, and rose through the hierarchy to become the Abbott, or father of the Abbey. He also acquired great material wealth, which in those days was not held to be incompatible with godliness, and his principle lands were known as "Father Lots'"

Fodder Lots - The local squire was inspired to fight in the Crusades. Being worried about the constancy of his wife, but more particularly of the eligibility of his six daughters, he commanded the local locksmith to prepare seven chastity belts.

This same task being duly performed, he was at a loss to find the necessary money to pay for these superb artifacts which would have taken all of Baker Perkins' much vaunted technology to accomplish. At a loss, he paid in kind, giving the locksmith several hundred acres of land, "For der locks".

Fodder Lots - Young Elias Windwood owned these lands, his family having held them for many generations. Elias was a shy man, but courted and wed Maria, the eldest daughter of the Reverend Simon Scourge, then vicar of Croyland Abbey.

Maria was her father's daughter, and though a good woman, skilled in the art of domestic administration, she never melted to the secret aspirations of Elias and certainly did not allow their conjugal bed to become the playground of either his fantasies or his more mundane desires.

She compounded his distress by her wholesome enthusiasm for his conventional welfare, in that she introduced the baked bean (then newly imported from the American Colonies) into his diet. The effect on his alimentary canal was disastrous, although the results, he felt, had to be concealed from her at all costs. Accordingly, he took to walking twice, nay, thrice round his lands per day, hoping that the country breezes would dispel the inaesthetic results of his wife's culinary enterprise, which by now had become his passion.

The lands lying to the North and East of Croyland, and the prevailing wind being in the South-west, his secret remained hidden for some time. However, the weakly and constantly coughing cattle, and the etiolated crops soon gave birth to the notion that something was wrong, and eventually the truth was out.

To this day the lands are known as "Fart-a-lot's".

Fodder Lots - Harris, no doubt prompted by the nudity of his nether limbs, related a tale of the original inhabitants of this place who were noted for the lack of hirsute knees. This was due to a deficiency of genes (or perhaps jeans). They tried to make up for this vulnerability by covering their lower appendages with locks of animal hair, which proved ineffective of very cold East Anglian days. Eventually they hit on the idea of using swansdown, and became know as the "Feather-locks".

Fodder Lots - Before the dissolution of the monastries, the monks had become syboritic, and had lost their principles of service to God. They sank through the elementary strata of self-gratification, and descended to the lowest depths of hedonism.

In their search for pleasure they pursued fetishes and other perversions on a level hardly equalled by Petriburghian Society today.

Their quirks were serviced by a group of young women who became known as 'The Sisters of Joy', and had their own establishment here in Croyland. They assumed the style of a holy order, and the monks endowed them with lands of their own.

There was no word for fetish in those days: the nearest in meaning being 'fad'. The land became known as the "Fad-harlots'".

George recounts a cautionary tale: he used to keep hens. Unfortunately he didn't realise that he lives in an area of high risk. Being George after they finished laying he ate the birds and nearly died of food poisoning

This Sunday happens to be a bit special with 3 grass widowers trying to make hay while the sun shines. We'll have to try again in the Summer!