So, this morning as I waited for the vicar, I was wandering around the graveyard of Our Lady of the Beehive in the Fields.  Among the stones whose should I spot but... Grace Poole (think Jane Eyre) and Thomas Hardy... this place is well weird!

Driving back I spotted a cortege coming the other way along the road, so pulled over to allow it to pass unobstructed, well trained minister person that I am.  The drive behind me saw this as their excuse to race past, squeezing between the hearse and parked vehicles.  No manners, no time to live... and I really don't need the work that much!