Not just a cave ...

I often remark how old buildings - and by old I'm thinking Victorian, even, not Ancient Rome - resemble caves once you strip away the plaster with which our forebears civilised the interiors. When we last had our bathroom gutted and upgraded, we lived for some days with the incongruous lavatory pan and wash-basin in the cave sans plaster, and very odd it was too.

But our church is another case altogether. In the refurbishment, we decided to leave the narthex as it was, all stone, brick and mortar. The effect is strangely pleasing, especially on an afternoon like today's, when the sun streamed in the west windows and lit up these flowers against the bare stone wall. Wouldn't do in the main part of the church - it would reduce the excellent acoustic - but in this little corner it's simply lovely.

I'd been cleaning the brass eagle again, by the way - did a little desultory picking up of wax fragments off the carpet, but I find brass-polishing more rewarding than hoovering ...

And much, much more strenuous.