The world from my window

Tonight, a big old Dyad Moon is suspended low in the sky. It is a deep rusty orange, with wisps of clouds like chiffon around its neck. It is nearly midnight in The Enchanted Village and there is a constant, low hum - the sound of British motorbikes trundling through on a late night Whitsun bank holiday rally. Down the road, the lane to Bluebill Hill is strewn with homemade patchwork bunting, hung between the lilac trees, May blossom hedges and Narnia lamp posts. Tomorrow, there is to be a village wedding and a sneak preview of the marriage venue promises something akin to when Jane Austen met Thomas Hardy. And still the British bikes hum through the Enchanted Village, as the wedding guests snuggle down into unfamilar beds and the bride tries to get to sleep after a Baileys or two, remembering that this time tomorow she will have a completely different name. And 350 years ago tomorrow, on Oak Apple Day, King Charles II was restored to the English throne. An auspicious date for a weddin...

There is a place not far from me where the bluebells are known throughout Dorset. The woods are filled with heady aromas and a dazzling array of bright colours. It is a time when the ground and sky are wearing matching outfits in a deep and lovely, glorious blue. Next weekend, there will be a bluebell picnic up here to celebrate the marriage on Oak Apple Day of my friend Pelly's Number One Sheepwashlet. The whole village is invited. The beech trees are in shimmering coats of lime green. The pine trees overlook the vale with its patchwork of fields and the sea beyond. They sway in a Mediterranean-style breeze. Everything is beautiful. This is the place where I have stipulated my ashes are to be scattered. And, I have since discovered, Pelly has requested exactly the same thing. Even in the afterlife we will be gossiping among the trees, whispering through the bluebells, the beech leaves and the penny bun toadstools. We will probably be joined by lots of other villagers who, unbekno...

In the Enchanted Village this morning, there is a broken pint glass on the pavement where the children walk to school. I clear it up at 6.45am. It is nothing to do with me but I would feel pretty bad if a child cut their foot on it. The dog seizes my newly-planted nicotianas and spreads them all over the patio and then my hairdryer packs up just before I am about to go to work. At the new office job, the head honcho writes all over my work in big red pen and it is emailed back to me without even a 'thank you' or 'kind regards'. Another director delivers my work to his team and then comes out, smiling, rips up the paper and says: 'Well, here's what they thought of that.' I am tempted to pick up the pieces of paper and shove it into his smiling mouth. But I don't, because I am actually enjoying the job and, if I really get paid at the end of the month, the money will be handy too. After a hard day at the office, it is good to go with Mr Grigg to the pub fo...

For the benefit of my new followers, I'd like to introduce you to my other blog, Manor from Heaven . If you long for a slice of an English country estate, then look no further. Mapperton House and Gardens is truly enchanting. And to my old followers, please excuse me. I'm planning to blog about croquet soon but rain stopped play. That's about it. Love Maddie x

Today, the Daily Telegraph stood up and shouted from the rooftops about the excellence of a local restaurant. I could hear the noise, because the restaurant is just over the hill from me. And, now that we are missing part of our roof while the builders are working on the Grigg hovel, we can hear absolutely everything. Congratulations to chef Mat Follas, a nicer man you couldn't meet (although I actually haven't because we keep missing each other). His food is pretty good too. Anyway, for your delectation, here's the link to the Telegraph's piece. And for all my new blog followers, I'm posting a review of The Wild Garlic I prepared earlier - from August 2009. Mat actually responded to the piece when I posted it originally and I understand staffing issues have now been resolved. I'm looking forward to a return visit. The Wild Garlic Earlier this year, an IT engineer called Mat Follas won the UK television competition MasterChef . It is a gruelling contes...

Oh my giddy aunt. I feel like I'm on a cloud, floating high above my hovel, looking down on the scaffolding-encrusted west wing and down through the conservatory roof where I can see myself frantically typing on a tiny netbook. Mr Grigg is down on Tom Tiddler's Ground, rearranging bits of wood with Mr Loggins. Oh, those boys and logs. I don't understand the appeal, personally, but it's better than ogling at girls. They go into raptures over the log store, they really do. If they were crafty, they would postion a few logs at jaunty angles and put the whole lot in for the Turner Prize. And talking of prizes, yes, more about that great big fluffy cloud on which I am sitting. The World from My Window was chosen as yesterday's Blog of Note - 'interesting and noteworthy Blogger-powered blogs, compiled by the Blogger Team'. And I wouldn't have known if my follower list hadn't suddenly shot up to 150. And to think I was going to pack in blogging for good a...

High above the square, an enormous steel structure has appeared, blocking out the sun and, what's worse, the signal to the satellite dish. But it is not an art installation, it's serving a practical purpose. The builders will be using it to get on with our new extension over the next few weeks, whatever the weather. Just as well I started a new job this week. I'm missing all the fun. However, I think there could be mileage in getting together with local musician and record producer Ding Dong Daddy and putting on a mini-Glastonbury Festival. I mean, you can even see the sun rising over the Enchanted Village's very own Pyramid Stage. That's about it. Love Maddie x