We arrive back in The Enchanted Village as night falls. Along the way we see wisps of woodsmoke and take in its lovely autumnal smell as it rises up out of clusters of chimneys. It has been another night of hospital visiting. Things are slowly improving, a fleeting smile on a face where before there was only terror. I will write about it some day. But not here, that is for another blog.
As we draw up outside our house, the church bells are ringing down after the weekly practice meeting. I meet Champagne-Charlie and his dog in the square as they come back from supper in the pub. Mrs Regal Bird is chatting to another bell ringer and Mrs Bancroft comes down to my doorstep bearing a tub of clotted cream for late night scones.
Mrs B is on a high. A first in the 'buttonhole for a gentleman' category at the village show. All I managed was a highly commended in the photographic section, an official 'well done for trying', for the most boring of all my pictures.
The biggest prize, though, came this evening when I thanked the hospital patient for my birthday money.
'I've bought a dress with it,' I said. 'Another dress.'
There were three rings of a breathless laugh from the bed and a squeeze of my hand.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x
I woke up this morning, drooling on my pillow like Patsy from Ab Fab . My hair was sticking up on one side and a trail of clothes led to ...
We sat in our seats, the lights went down and there was not a whirr to be heard. At the opening night of our very own Lush Places cinema i...
It's Shrove Tuesday, the day before Lent. General Custer, he of the face carved out of Mount Rushmore and last seen loitering in the pub...
And now the decorations are down, the Christmas tree over the pub door that some woman thought looked like a willy has been dismantled and...
Once upon a time, a long time ago, I was a child in a meadow with a woodland circle of beech trees around me. And there was clover growing i...