Things are rarely what they seem

Great excitement in the village square today as the bus breaks down, just at the point where the driver is doing a three-point turn. The result is even more chaos than usual, as motorists work out which way to negotiate this temporary roundabout. Initially I thought there was a fight going on because I glimpsed an angry young man with a mohican haircut and a grumpy old lady on a zimmer frame loitering around the bus door. Then I realised they were disgruntled passengers wondering how they were going to reach their destinations.

Other news I have just heard is the addition of a pole inside the pub, brought in especially for Sunday regulars. I am not privy to what went on but have visions of Dudley, General Custer and all the drinkers from Compost Corner gyrating around the said pole while Larry the landlord gives it welly on the karaoke machine. I hope we will see more of this pole before our publicans depart in the new year. However, it could be that the brewery is converting the pub into a fire station and the pole represents a quick exit from the rooms upstairs.

My neighbour Mrs Bancroft has had her potted bay tree - the one the size of Africa - taken away from the front of her cottage and put in the garden of Nobby Odd-Job's yet-to-be-built new house. I am pleased about this because I dreamed the other night that the tree's roots had reached out, triffid-like, across the square and strangled Mr Grigg and me in my sleep. I then woke up and discovered it was the necklace Camilla had given me, which had attached itself to the skin of my neck in a Medea-like moment.

Anyway, the bay tree was transported to Nobby's by Celebrity Farmer's dad with a tractor and link-box. He proudly knocked on Nobby's door to say it had arrived, only for Nobby to rather ungratefully declare it was a yucca. Fortunately for his cattle, Celebrity Farmer's dad knows the difference between hay and straw. He is also still basking in the glory of his harvest supper piano playing so appears not to have minded too much about making another trip.

Finally, I have had a rather spooky experience this morning. As I walked from outside into my hallway to the living room, the eyes in the back of my head saw a hand at knee level come in around the front door and place an envelope on my window seat. I turned on my heels, flung the door open, only to find the cheerful neighbourhood watch man, the kindly colonel with a handlebar moustache and a disability scooter, making a quick getaway across the square. On inspection, the envelope contained handy hints on how to deter thieves. Number one was 'lock the door behind you' and 'beware of elderly disabled men bearing crime prevention advice'.

That's about it

Love Maddie x