We stood at the gate . We had parked Ziggy up on the tiniest of plots of grass where parking was allowed . We were alone apart from a lone cyclist who had propped his bicycle up against the fence. He was waiting for us through the gate before he saddled up and rode away. We were entirely alone at that point . In the distance we could see Lilleshall church which felt a million miles away from bustling nearby Telford. On top of the highest point above the villlage was an obelisk . We had seen it from miles back . A memorial to the Duke of Sutherland and the Earl of Stafford or something like that when it came to titles . He owned land around Lilleshall and also the massive Trentham Estate . Memorials to him appeared here there and everywhere . We could walk up the hill but it was on the radar today . Instead we had pencilled in Lilleshall Abbey which we could see at the end of a long and muddy lane . A small stream straddled the lane , Sometimes overground to our right before diving under the lane to emerge
to our left before disappearing underground again . The surface water on the fields was running like streams along the lane and we had to pick our way through it gingerly. But after that walk we found ourselves in the peace and tranquillity of the abbey . The great West front loomed ahead of us and the doorway beckoned us in .
But that was for later . Our day started much earlier that morning . We wake early and the dawn had not broken . It was pitch black outside . What should we do today ? We thought this one out over a lazy and slow breakfast . We ought to do something . But we had lunch out the other day . And we went to the Victorian market . We need wreaths . We have three to buy and deliver to graves in Wrexham and St Georges . We looked at the diary . Cannot do it over the weekend . We have football . And a little voice piped out - you cannot do it Monday I am meeting my best friend Woolly at Chirk Castle . We had not forgotten such an important
thing and of course Sion would not stop reminding us as he constantly clock watched . Counting out the days before he could chat over coffee with his best friend .
So that was it - decided we needed the wreaths . We set off for Holt and Bellis Strawberry farm and shop. It was packed when we arrived and I headed for the christmas trees and wreaths . A large number were available . Too much choice at times . Holly wreaths with plastic red berries . Holly wreaths with real berries . Some from Turkey made of very fine fir with purple and red berries and a yellow fruit which had seen better days . I found three of the Turkish wreaths with berries of green and purple and that was it . They would do . If I dithered I would still have been there .
We headed for St Georges . A route we take every year but each time depending where we travel from we end up lost around the many roundabouts of Telford . Each one looking like the last one . Even Silly Sat Nag would not take us to Church
Street St Georges but wanted Church Street Oakengates . Not a million miles away but not the right place . In the end we picked up the signs , drove past the Telford wall. A wall of multicoloured bricks that were laid in the shapes of a rock strata convulting all along its length. It looked as if the moving earth had shifted the bricks from straight lines to a contortion of agony. On to Snedshill . We were on home ground now . Turn right past the church , along the main road to the roundabout , turn right and here we were parking on the cricket club car park . The Ball and Bails still looked closed . So no lunch there today. The scaffolding was up on the church. The workers were high up repairing the roof . We found our grave , laid our wreath , looked at the lilac and silver plastic flowers which were dirty from being in the pot outside for a long time . Someone else other than us cared but they had not been for at least a year .
