The shed comes to town
I take it all back. It was actually quite a big shed after all.
When Mr Grigg rang me to tell me the shed was on its way I was in the middle of peeling apples for a nice Dorset apple cake. Fearing I'd miss it, I flung the apples down and went upstairs and waited. And waited. And waited. All to the tune of The Levellers What a Beautiful Day.
In the rain outside, the keen photographer who lives opposite spotted me in my window with camera poised and ran back in to fetch his own, fearing he might miss the prizewinning shot to enter in next year's village flower show. A boy racer roared through the Square. Crow Man got out of his Landrover, kicked his tyres, spat on the ground and then went into the shop for some cider and fags and the News of the World. A once spritely young man hobbled by for his Sunday Express, Posh Totty's Discovery towing a horsebox rattled through, the lesser-spotted Mr St John strolled by in shorts to get his Mail on Sunday and free CD, Super Mario and Princess Peach drove past in their Sunday best, a few goats sauntered up the street, the church clock struck 11 and tumbleweed gathered speed outside Mrs Bancroft's.
I admit I must have dreamed most of this. You see, while I was looking out the window I was also worrying about my cut apples downstairs that were getting browner by the minute.
And then I heard the rumble of Celebrity Farmer's tractor tyres coming round the bend and saw the flashing hazard warning lights on Mr Grigg's Landrover Freeloader. He stuck his thumb up. The cavalcade had come to town.
And then as soon as it arrived in the square, the wood shed was gone. Down the street to the field where eight testosterone-filled Sheepwashlets and friends - luckily home for a family party - threw off their hangovers to ease the shed into its new resting place, directed by Mr Grigg and his spirit level.
Who says life moves at a slower pace in the countryside?
That's about it
Love Maddie x
When Mr Grigg rang me to tell me the shed was on its way I was in the middle of peeling apples for a nice Dorset apple cake. Fearing I'd miss it, I flung the apples down and went upstairs and waited. And waited. And waited. All to the tune of The Levellers What a Beautiful Day.
In the rain outside, the keen photographer who lives opposite spotted me in my window with camera poised and ran back in to fetch his own, fearing he might miss the prizewinning shot to enter in next year's village flower show. A boy racer roared through the Square. Crow Man got out of his Landrover, kicked his tyres, spat on the ground and then went into the shop for some cider and fags and the News of the World. A once spritely young man hobbled by for his Sunday Express, Posh Totty's Discovery towing a horsebox rattled through, the lesser-spotted Mr St John strolled by in shorts to get his Mail on Sunday and free CD, Super Mario and Princess Peach drove past in their Sunday best, a few goats sauntered up the street, the church clock struck 11 and tumbleweed gathered speed outside Mrs Bancroft's.
I admit I must have dreamed most of this. You see, while I was looking out the window I was also worrying about my cut apples downstairs that were getting browner by the minute.
And then I heard the rumble of Celebrity Farmer's tractor tyres coming round the bend and saw the flashing hazard warning lights on Mr Grigg's Landrover Freeloader. He stuck his thumb up. The cavalcade had come to town.
And then as soon as it arrived in the square, the wood shed was gone. Down the street to the field where eight testosterone-filled Sheepwashlets and friends - luckily home for a family party - threw off their hangovers to ease the shed into its new resting place, directed by Mr Grigg and his spirit level.
Who says life moves at a slower pace in the countryside?
That's about it
Love Maddie x
Oh Maddie, that is a story well told. I felt as though I was there at the window observing how a morning develops at a certain pace. Truly splendid.
ReplyDeleteHoping the apple cake was delicious, too. xo
Better than any CNN on-the-spot report! The drama, the action...........Of course I found myself investigating the scene in minute detail - like the set of one of the BBC shows I so enjoy.
ReplyDeleteTHanks for the pics. The more I looked at them the more I realised I miss village life. strnage thing for a townie like me to say, but its true!
ReplyDeleteBut what of the cake Maddie? You can't leave us hanging like this, waiting for a little cinnamon scented chunk of appleness to live vicariously by...
ReplyDeleteAlso, aha! The White Lion! I've nearly come a cropper on that corner many a time. Yay Celebrity Farmer - not the same one I'm afraid...
x x x
I absolutely love those photos... well worth the wait :)
ReplyDeletebest wishes
Ribbon
Life moves in the countryside. Just in a different direction! Impressive pictures.
ReplyDeleteCJ xx
Hi Maddie,
ReplyDeleteAs Dorset is my very favourite county I thought...."this looks like a really interesting blog".
Do you know, I think I have spent every holiday for the last ten years in and around this county.
If I may I shall 'follow' your blog with interest.
Cheers......Bernard
Thanks for all your comments chaps and chapesses.
ReplyDeleteFrances, I could waste hours looking out my window, as you will know. Sometimes nothing happens, which makes the small things HUGE.
Pondside - I hope there was nothing too incriminating. I tried to block out Mr Grigg's number plate so no-one can track him down...
Oh Dave, maybe time for a change for you then? I think you deserve it.
Naomi, the cake was great. I put blackcurrants and ground almonds in it too. How much do I need to pay you to keep my hovel location secret?
Ribbon, you were joking, right?!
CJ- how right you are. I get cross when people imply country life is less stressful. There are different pressures facing all sorts of people. But better to be faced against a backdrop of landscape beauty I suppose.
Ooh Bernard, thanks for following me. When I get a new follower it's like getting a parcel in the post. Welcome to the world from my window. Hope you enjoy it!