Well that is what it says, quite clearly....on the pillar.
"JAM" in big letters.
It's clearly a warning to all parents. Be careful what you name your child, because initials matter!
Now this is rather facile and silly of me - I know that. But relating to graffiti doesn't always have to be high brow and serious. I'm not a professional archaeologist, I can afford to crack the odd smile.
Some of the graffiti isn't serious either!
Assington Church is lovely, just by the A134, and not always open: but there are wild herbs growing in the graveyard and on a late summer afternoon your footprints will crush them just enough to make them smell divine. This might sound somewhat rose tinted and romantic, but that doesn't stop it from being true.
The graffiti isn't obvious, you have to poke about a bit and look. Which is good, it takes some (but not much) work. Provides a sense of achievement.
So I might have let out a little squeak of pleasure when I came across this face. Because truly I wasn't expecting him to be hiding around a pillar - I thought I'd found all the graffiti. With his mouth open he's captured, mid word.
I'm not sure which came first, the eye or the face. The metal corrosion gives him a bleary red stare, as if he had one to many on the Saturday night in the Shoulder of Mutton and is now finding explaining the sermon hard work................
Bless him, I want to feed him a quintessentially English jam sandwich..