Our next port of call was Booton church which was a slightly softer experience. The church is well looked after by the Victorian Conservation Society. It's a handsome gothic building with beautiful stained glass windows. I always loved the windows as a child. Frankly I wasn't so thrilled about the whole church malarkey, small children are not big on sitting still and listening, I remember being ticked off for fidgeting, and peeping at Richard Huggins who was my pre-school hero, a few months younger than me, and fearless and naughty. 
Our rector was Mr Coates, who visited from another parish, he was very lovely and good with children, I seem to remember him telling tales of Africa. Before there'd been an incumbent vicar called Billy Feast but I don't really remember him, so I couldn't vouch for that. 
After the shock of the house it was nice to spend a little time in the rosy glow of the church thinking about easter egg hunts and nativity plays and the Huggins family who I think were the only other people who used the church regularly. 
From outside the church we could see across the fields to Cawston church spire. Apologies for raindrops on the lens of my camera, lazy photography.