Our bank holiday

Today we went for a little day trip to Shrewsbury; mainly because it is south of Liverpool, and we’re rapidly approaching north of Liverpool saturation, So we decided to go south.

Initially Wales was in the running, but the weather forecast was funny and I didn’t fancy walking down the pier at llandudno in a fierce rain storm, so we looked in land. Llandudno is nice but again we’ve been quite a bit, and besides we would have just spent all day in that bookshop.


Baby swans

Shrewsbury was nice; it did rain quite a bit, but it was nice. Down by the river we saw some baby swans, something I having lived such a sheltered life had never seen before. Then we did the regimental museum in the castle, which our copy of the rough guide to England describes as dull. I would alter that a bit, to dull, dry and warm, which can be quite important when it really starts to rain.

On the way home we took a slight detour to Cockshutt, the ancestral ‘seat’ for some of Ruth’s family. The family rumour mill (now confirmed as speculation) has it that


the old Vicarage in cockshutt

there where some goings on between a ‘son of the manor’ and one of Ruth’s great great somethings, which resulted in them being sent away to Liverpool to have the illegitimate child. More likely is they moved from rural poverty to industrial poverty around the time everybody else did.

Cockshutt seems like a pleasant little village, with a church, pub and post office. So we took some pictures Ruth did some random stranger talking, and discovered that Dean is the man to talk to about the history of Cockshutt; we didn’t but at least we know.

Ruth is now scouring the internet to see if we can get anything else about Cockshutt. So far we know that some people have a grant to write the history of the village. So we’re writing them a letter.