Once upon a time many many moons ago, I received an email.

They wanted to film me and interview me about Rambles for a television programme.

I must point out that this was at a time when this site was actually famous and I had done radio and newspaper interviews, so a television thing was no big deal.

To cut a long story short, they came out, filled the Manor with lighting and cameras, did their interview and the programme was aired a while later.

It wasn’t just me though.  There were three of us involved: a photographer, a Reverend and myself, presumably supposed to represent a diverse group of bloggers scribblers.  We exchanged mails afterwards and mutually agreed that we had all been grim and the whole episode had best be forgotten.

However, the Reverend had been the local vicar in the dark days when I lived in suburbia.  I knew this because my next door neighbour was C of I and made a big thing about how he and the vicar were bestest friends.  I was a Heathen so I wasn’t impressed.  I happened to mention this little gem to the Rev and we struck up a friendship.  Next door neighbour would have been livid at the idea that a Heathen should become pally with his Vicar, but I had long since moved away from suburban hell and didn’t care.

The Rev and I used to meet up regularly, sometimes at the Manor [if it was raining] or down at the coffee shop [if it wasn’t].  We would sit and bat the breeze and generally relax.  The Heathen and the Reverend was a strange mix, though we never discussed religion.

Then one day he vanished.

Next thing, he popped up over in Somerset.  He was no longer a Reverend and was just an Ian.  He had quit the Holy Life and had become a mere mortal like the rest of us and what’s more he wasn’t turning back.

I used to run his site [still do, in fact] – For the Fainthearted [abbreviated in my work files as Farted] – and suggested he start up a new site which would better reflect his new life.

So, ladies and gentlemen….

I give you A Somerset Lad.

Drop in and say hello.

He doesn’t bite.