A visitor

Just after lunchtime prayers in the (La Tene style) I heard a knock at the door. Someone calling themself Bernie. He was wondering if he could join the Beaker Folk. When I explained that the Folk have been dispersed, and I am now an anchorite in the Beaker Tradition, he asked if he could be one of them.
So I explained to him that the point of being an anchorite lies in solitariness - that Mother Julian spent her life in a cell the bigness of a hazelnut - and he asked if he could be an anchorite in the garden shed.
It seemed reasonable, so we went down to the shed - only to discover that a couple of the Hermits of Suspicion were still there. I asked whether they had room for one more, but they just looked a bit wary. In the event, Bernie is now installed in the old cowshed in the Orchard. I have agreed he can join me in the Great Hall for meals, provided he looks after the vegetables. To be honest, however, while an organic and sustainable lifestyle is of course right, I think I may need to head for Tesco's at Kingston. Swede every day for a fortnight can get a bit wearing. Mind you, it makes being solitary a blessing.