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
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