Helen here. Time to get a grip. This blog - a word I have no problems with unlike my darling neologiphobic husband - is in danger of becoming one of those vapid, rural sentimental pieces: all old maids cycling to communion in the morning mist. (What Edwina Currie ever saw in John Major is beyond me, though I wouldn't say the same of some of this generation of show jumpers...of which more anon.)

We have a crisis here in The Wolds that needs tackling head on, and dear PP is not the man for the job. There's a new Archdeacon in town, heavens alone knows how appointed, with a puritanical bent that would put Calvin to shame. I've yet to meet the man, though I hear his demeanour resembles - as it ought - that horrid Steerpike from Gormenghast. Mildred, who has supped a dish of tea in his presence says he resembles a 'fire damaged hobbit', which is as funny as it is uncharitable. Shiny black vestments positively oozing sanctity from every unwashed seam.

Not that being 'more Cromwell than Cromwell' matters a jot in itself - as PP would say "Ours is a broad Church, wide enough even for the most narrow minded" - but I gather the FDH intends to try and persuade the Bishop to ban all parish activities whose primary purpose is to raise funds! What are we to be, Buddhists with begging bowls trusting to the universal spirits that half a ton of lead for the church roof will drop into our laps?!

Apparently the FDH has been overwhelmed on viewing El Greco's wonderful Christ purging the traders from the temple, and has concluded that all trade is an evil if it relates to the Church. Now I'll be first in the queue to protest if funds are invested in anything palpably unethical, but I have a God given 'talent' for raising cash - just ask Sir A at the Hall who found himself shelling out a four figure cheque at last summer's fete without, as he put it, even knowing his hand held a pen - and blowed if I am to be thwarted in my mission.

Nothing official has come down from Bishop's House - Tom's Cafe as we tend to know it round here - so for now I'm keeping my head down and my antennae up. Not sure if FDH represents a genuine, lasting threat to the established order or not. Mustn't be seen to be rebelling until the cause is more certain. But Mildred and I are to rendezvous over salmon salad next Monday to plan our campaign - always good to have a plan.

In the meanwhile I shall telephone my contact at the seminary - Code Name 'Tulip' - to see if she has any gen on this Archdeacon of ours. There is bound to be some emotional trauma behind his Calvinism; perhaps the boys jeered his first faltering attempt at a sermon, or the woman he loved became a nun - or even left him for a nun! And if I should happen to learn of some indiscretion or mishap that could be held in reserve in case of need to launch a covert operation against his reputation, it could not be said that I am wishing to indulge in calumny and detraction, merely obtaining lease on a WMD should it become necessary to let him know one is in my possession!

HP