I am missing out on village life. While I was feeling claustrophobic in London until I reached the leafy suburbs of my friend's house, Mr Grigg and friends ran a coffee morning in the village hall. Then a hen party complete with woman in bridal veil descended on the pub and ordered the full karaoke and Mr Grigg was invited to dinner at the St John love nest.
My only contribution to the coffee morning was buying and labelling the tombola prizes, which I bought at Lidls. This shop is the only reason I ever venture into the war zone of Chard, the birthplace of powered fight.
I am reliably informed that Celebrity Farmer has a new (as yet unseen) woman on his arm. A herd of cows trampled a walker from the other side of the county, Tuppence's lawn looks like it has been cut for hay and Masterchef winner Mat Follas's new restaurant is beginning to take shape in a nearby town.
We are waiting with bated breath to see CF's new friend, although if she fell for his radio mic and mini-disc recorder in London she can't be all that bright. I recall meeting a very attractive young lady at one of CF's parties who had all the men inwardly gasping when she told them she was 'in advertising'. I think it was telesales for a local paper.
The trampled woman escaped with bruised ribs but is now hitting out at farmers (not CF) who allow 'dangerous' cows and their calves in fields where there are footpaths. She did not allude to the fact that she had two dogs on leads. As any fule no, if you are ever in this situation you should let the dogs go. The cows are naturally protecting their young and it's the dogs they're after, not you.
There is a quiz going on in the village hall tonight but we are not going. We will get short shrift, for sure, from Nobby Odd-Job, who is involved in organising it. But Mr Grigg has only just come home from work. And besides, we thought we'd give someone else a chance.
That's about it
Love Maddie x
As I write, it’s a mad scramble to get things done before heading off on the annual weekend trip to North Devon. In years gone by, there w...
It's ten thirty in the morning and a bus pulls up outside our front door. All aboard for the Sidmouth Special. For just £9 a head,...
As my watch ticked towards six o'clock, we eased off from the pontoon, out through the twin piers and into the open sea. With the gl...
I'm up here in shorts, a floral top and Birkenstocks. New shorts and bright pink Birkenstocks, it's true, but I'm feeling rather...
There's been rain for the first time in weeks in this long, hot summer. This morning, it belted down on the conservatory roof, fil...