Easter Saturday

St Botolph's was full of chatter and ladies arranging flowers when Basil and I rolled up for coffee morning. The usual crowd was elsewhere, except for Wendy who had been on the early shift. I did get another jar of marmalade.

This was the first time I had seen the altar like this. The cross was covered in a muslin shroud, presumably to represent the body of Christ in the tomb, while the altar was stripped bare of vestments. Sackcloth hung down at the front. It was just an ordinary table.

Tomorrow, it will glow in a caparison of gold. The flowers will smell sweetly, the stone will have been rolled away from the entrance to the tomb in the garden that was being set out. And everyone will sing Alleluia.

Basil and I slipped away quietly to T'Mucky Duck, 100m down the lane, where I enjoyed a Jura malt.

Len had just taken Basil out later this afternoon when drenching rain fell.

The usual garlic prawns tonight and Jamie Vardy scoring his first international goal for England. Then we watched Jane Eyre, because it was on. Judi Dench played Mrs Fairfax. She was given more lines than she has in the book, presumably because if you hire Judi Dench for your picture, you want to get your  moneys worth.

Mr Rochester was less the scheming seducer in this version compared with the reading on Radio 4 the other week, but there's no denying that St John Eyre Rivers was the arch manipulator.

My other photo for today is a cross section of a silver birch. I hadn't noticed it before when walking up the jitty, but rain had emphasised the colours and texture.