As I gaze from my window across the square this morning, the white-sand 'beach' installed outside the village shop is blemished.
Splatters of scraped-up cow dung stand out like a pimple on a clear-skinned 90-year-old. Mixed in with tyre prints and oil from leaking radiators, the beach installed by the council to denote where cars can park could do with a tidy up. Luckily, today is the day of the Great Dorset Beach Clean. Unluckily, The Enchanted Village is just a bit too far inland. Eight miles too far.
This week the council came to paint a 'No Entry' sign on the junction outside the pub. Not to stop the boozers going in but to prevent vehicles driving the wrong way up the one-way street. The traffic lights secured for the occasion had been found in the props department of an Ealing comedy. When they were green, the cars came through from the other direction and when they were red you were expected to proceed with caution.
As one female driver waited patiently at the red light, the council workman waved his hands and shooed her on.
'What is it with these people?' he yelled to no-one in particular. 'Can't they see that red means green? Bloody women drivers.'
That's about it.
Love Maddie x
The Beetle’s trundled more than eighteen hundred miles across Italy and France, with cars and lorries tooting both in frustration (it takes...
They say that good things come in threes... Well, two good things have just happened to me, writing-wise. There's a feature about my...
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...
When we moved into this house on Corfu, the first thing I wanted to know more about was the bookshelf. The house we are renting belongs...
Once upon a time, when I was fit, I cycled up to the most wonderful place on earth. It's in West Dorset and, when you get to the to...