The Joy of Six 1153

Mathew Pennell looks at the new Liberal Democrat policy document on housing: "I have a vision for housing, I hope it’s based on the most important aspects of the housing crisis - housing is unaffordable, the UK is lopsided when it comes to homes, jobs, opportunities, infrastructure, a lot of social housing is in a terrible state, a lot of new build housing is signed off despite bad planning and placemaking."

John Oxley has good news for Liberal England readers: the Conservatives are heading for electoral evisceration.

 "The marks of restraint are clear on the child’s arm, the bruises that outline a ‘hold’. In normal, everyday language, this means that a member of the teaching staff in a school will have laid their hands on a child who they felt needed to be restrained. In some, but not all cases, that can leave visible injuries. In most cases the memory will stay with them, a psychological mark that will never fade away." Katharine Quarmby fears corporal punishment is returning to classrooms in the guise of restraint and seclusion.

"Take the phrase ‘ghost children’, for example. It seems to have been coined by Robert Halfon, MP in response to Centre for Social Justice figures on pupil absence. Now, it has a life of its own spooking the public and politicians alike." Gemma Moss asks if the concept warrants the attention it is getting.

James Auton defends Britpop against critics who are too cool for school.

"But there, in a Northamptonshire cowfield ("Beware of the bull") that is forever England, reality seemed an awfully long way away. The field sloped down to a dark, dank corner where, secreted by an overgrown thicket, quite hidden from the world, real or otherwise, sat a quiet and algae green pond. We scrambled over some barbed wire and through a tangle of willow and found, with a deep sense of satisfaction, the source of our river." Eric Wark discovers the source of the Great Ouse, which flows into The Wash below King's Lynn.

The Stevington & Turvey Light Railway and The Arches Theatre

There are a couple of points passed over lightly by the Rediscovering the Bedford to Northampton line video I posted on Monday that are worth more investigation.

At 3:43 we are told that this section of the line used to be occupied by the Stevington & Turvey Light Railway.

A 2014 post on National Presevation tells its story:

Many of you will have heard of the private Stevington and Turvey Light Railway, hidden away in deepest Bedfordshire. The railway has been operating since the 1980s, but last Sunday was the final operating day for the railway. 

The stock and track are being moved to a new site nearby in Woburn where they will have full engineering facilities and security. Sadly the railway has been attacked several times by metal thieves in the last few years.

Wikipedia adds:

The Stevington and Turvey Light Railway was a 2 ft (610 mm) narrow gauge light railway on the outskirts of the village of Turvey in Bedfordshire, England. It was about 3⁄4 mile (1.2 km) long. The railway was formed in the early 1980s by former members of The Surrey Light Railway which was based in Hersham, Surrey. 

The railway was established on the former track bed of the Bedford to Northampton Line. The main signal box on the line was named Needham, and contains a 31 lever Westinghouse 'L' frame which originally came from Battersea Park Signal box.

And at 6:30 the caption says a project is underway to turn an old bridge into an open-air theatre.

Remarkably, the project is complete and the theatre is open. It is The Arches Theatre at Clifton Reynes near Olney:

t takes its name from the four beautiful railway arches, built in 1872, that are used to stage exciting outdoor performances.

Situated in parkland next to the River Great Ouse in the picturesque and peaceful Buckinghamshire countryside, The Arches Theatre will be the stage to a number of fantastic theatre productions over the summer months.

The pancake race at Olney

What with today being Shrove Tuesday, here is a photo of the finishing post from the pancake race held every year at Olney in Buckinghamshire.

A page on the history of the race says it dates back to 1445.

The film below shows the race in 1951 - no doubt still remembered as a classic. There is little evidence of pancake tossing: the women just pin back their ears and charge for the line.

But the history page says they must toss their pancake once at the start outside The Bull Inn and once at the finish by the church.

The Olney Pancake Race

From the Olney Pancake Race website:

On Shrove Tuesday every year the ladies of Olney, Buckinghamshire compete in the world famous Pancake Race, a tradition which dates back to 1445. The 2016 race will be held on Tuesday 9th February. The race starts at 11:55am. 

Children from Olney schools also take part in their own races. Olney competes every year against the women of Liberal, Kansas, USA. This is a friendly competition in its 67th year in 2016.

My photograph shows the sign on the churchyard wall in Olney that marks the finishing point of the race,

John Newton's grave in Olney churchyard

This is the grave of John Newton, the writer of Amazing Grace, and his wife in the churchyard at Olney. St Peter and St Paul stands beside the young Great Ouse.

For a few days you can learn more about him - and see the church and the Cowper and Newton Museum - by watching episode 3 of Rule Britannia! Music, Mischief and Morals in the 18th Century on the BBC iPlayer.

Hares in William Cowper's garden

Another photo from Olney.

An angel in ivy

Photographed in Olney churchyard on Saturday.

William Cowper's summerhouse and pet hares

The home of the poet William Cowper in the centre of Olney is now a museum devoted to him and is friend John Newton, who wrote the words to "Amazing Grace".

In the garden you will find the summerhouse where Cowper did much of his writing. And across the road in the town square you will find a wicker sculpture inspired by Cowper and his three pet hares.

Over to John Stuart Mill, recalling his famous education:

Cowper’s short poems I read with some pleasure, but never got into the longer ones; and nothing in the two volumes interested me like the prose account of his three hares.