Welcome to Woolpit.
You might think Woolpit was named for sheep farms, but you’d be wrong. The village sign above offers a clue. It’s actually named after a pit for trapping wolves– “Wlfpeta” originally.
The village sign also features two children known as “The Green Children.” A local legend dating to the 12th century tells of reapers discovering a boy and a girl living in a hole in the ground. The children spoke no discernable language. The boy sickened and died, but the girl lived and married a man from a neighboring village. Were they abandoned by human parents or by fairies? I’m betting on the former.
I explored the center of Woolpit, stopping at the post office to mail postcards and dropping in The Old Bakery, now a knick-knack shop, to browse around.
Two, little old ladies were enjoying a cup of tea while they gossiped about the royal family. Did you know that Princess Anne could care less how she looks, but “she quite likes the horses.”
Speaking of Royals, the village honored Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee in 1897 with this well pump.
Last year, Queen Elizabeth’s jubilee was marked with a park bench facing the well pump. It’s made of iron so a century from now some American visiting Woolpit is likely to capture an image of it too.
The real gem in Woolpit is the ornate Norman church.
I wouldn’t want to get caught in the churchyard alone at night on Halloween! Serenely beautiful in the light of day — beyond creepy at night.
I met John for lunch on Elizabeth’s park bench and we enjoyed some fabulous fish and chips from this fine establishment.
He rushed home to Skype with the kids at Canton Elementary and I took my time, taking pics along the way. Here’s the local pub — The Bull.
Here’s The White House across the street.
And here’s the street-facing front of our home-away-from-home — The Street House.
And last, but not least, the beautiful sky that kept me company while I wrote this entry.