The world from my window

It’s amazing what brings people to a blog. The more people who come here and gaze through my window the better, but only virtual gazing. I couldn’t cope with hundreds of people from all over the world in my bedroom. The reason for this post is I am currently getting a lot of people arriving here after putting ‘ union flag bunting’ into Google. I hope they stay a while and get a feel for what’s happening in England’s rural underbelly when it comes to the Queen’s special celebrations this weekend. One poor person from Lydney, Gloucestershire, found me by typing in ‘ jubilee flags too big on my window next door a real nightmare ’. I feel for you, I really do. You should see The Enchanted Village. We have union flags, Bristol City pennants, go-faster chequered bunting for the pram race, the official Diamond Jubilee logo and international symbols flapping all along our western entrance. Any minute now, the bronze nymph statue in the garden is about to be unveiled, wearing a re...

In the hot, early summer sun, the union flags and multi-coloured bunting welcome visitors to our enchanted village. The nymph is still in heavy grey coat, waiting to emerge from her winter chrysalis in a riot of red, white and blue in time for the Queen's Diamond Jubilee. Up on the allotments, Mr Grigg, Mr Sheepwash and Mr Loggins, armed with Nobby Odd-Job's chainsaw, are cutting an old telegraph pole down to size ready for the jubilee beacon. Mrs Bancroft is roaring off somewhere or another in her frog-eye Sprite and my pride-and-joy Beetle is outside the house gearing up for those lazy, hazy days of summer. Bubbles, from next door, sneaks a sprig of my rosemary for a barbecue later this afternoon. Next door, Mr Champage-Charlie is mowing the grass again, getting the level perfectly right for a nice game of croquet. The fragrant Mrs Putter and her husband, Putt, amble down the road for a chilled glass of rose. The union flag flaps above the pub door as thirs...