This is one of the scenes that greet you when cycling down the bye road after leaving the busy Thrapston to Oundle A605 . It is Barnwell Mill pond before or after the Locks Taking you up to Thrapston or down to Oundle if you are on any kind of water craft. Beyond the trees you see here is Barnwell Country Park, a lovely spot to meander by the River Nene and or picnic, there is also a play area for the kids. The Nene is a much deeper River than our local Welland and as you can see has some pretty scenery.

A bit of a reminder of what could happen if you stepped out of line in the "The Good Olde days"the socks could await you. These are the ones on the green in Greton in Northamptonshire. I made a feeble joke on Facebook what does this picture represent in a shop? "Bicycle Stocks" of course----weak laughter. No, more like groan, mind you making a joke like that they might find a use for them even today, somebody might have a key to the padlock.

This is the war memorial to the fallen in the first world war of the small village of Gretton in Northamptonshire. On the narrow slates across the memorial are One Hundred names of men and boys, I think the real horror of it all would come if the dates of their deaths were to be known, also the relation to each other for I am sure there will be at least one father and son there. On the plinth part there are the names lost during the second world war,they amount to six.

At the cross roads and yes I took the wrong turning and added five or six miles to my journey, but on such a nice day I saw parts of the country I might never have seen. Sore on the legs though, but every mistake has its penalties unless of course you are a banker or a politician then you are rewarded.

I know it is on it's side but can a certain Kirstin remember seeing this Pack bridge in dim lighting the last time she was in England? The village is Medbourne and I don't even think it is twinned with Melbourne.

Not Wookey-- Spooky

This is the long tunnel which you go through from the Market Harborough side heading for Brixworth it is quite long and very dark, that little white spot in the middle there is the far end. Now I only had a wind up torch so I had to walk through the tunnel, no problem, so I thought, and off I went. Nearly 3/4 way through and a bit tired of winding up the torch I decided to walk towards the light. As I was walking though, I had the strangest feeling something had peeled itself off the wall of the tunnel, and was gliding along beside me. No, I did not stick my hand out to see if I was right and if I was still alone, I kept walking, eyes firmly set on the Light at the end of the Tunnel. Going back the way the torch remained firmly wound up and me, whistling a merry marching tune, my hair if I had any would have staunchly upright,of that I am sure.