I am not a writer by any stretch of the imagination, just a few thought's and impression of my village life. My Mum was a widow but she re-married and we moved from Essex to Somerset not sure of the year maybe 1941-1942,we had a village shop and post office also an off license and because of that they had to stay open late. There were two other shops in the village, we lived almost opposite the Anglican church... Wednesday evening it was bell ringing practice I think there were six bells,I'm just trying to visualize them maybe only four, I don't the church door's ever being locked another thing I remember is climbing up the tower.... bit on the scared side but didn't to admit it steep stairs and the top one was the worst very steep,not to bad going up but coming down was worse they were quite worn as well,I can't remember how old the Church was but the there were marks on the back pew's said to be where Oliver Cromwell tied his horses.....don't know if that was true but there were lot's of