My earliest memories of cutting Bulmer churchyard are of a happy social gathering. People turning up from all over the village keen with scythes and dips looking quite dangerous, and one mechanised mower in the new churchyard.

Women with shears and rakes cutting and raking around gravestones.

The grass and sheep's parsley was about three feet high in some places. Quite a task as this was before many of the old gravestones were removed.

We managed to quench our thirst with bottles of lemonade.

One lady came along to join and said she had just seen a group of pilgrims passing along Bulmer Tye carrying a wooden cross.

All of us slaving in own way, I am glad my mother and father included me in this venture. I was quite happy just raking up.

Brenda Weavers