The predicted snowfall came overnight, but only a light covering, scarcely more than 1 cm in the deepest places. But enough to give a satisfyingly crisp crunch underfoot. I put on coat, hat and scarf and took a stroll round the churchyard. This was the churchyard yesterday, slightly frosted; and this is how it looked this morning...
I like this village. I could never go back to living for long in a town or city. Life's still taken at a slower pace here. The local newsagent-cum-sweetshop is charmingly typical of the place. The window display doesn't seem to have changed much since the 1960s. There's often an overpowering smell of wet dog as soon as you enter. Newspaper accounts are kept in a little notebook (Computers? What are they?) And there's always a queue, as it takes a while for each customer to discuss the weather, the football, the state of the country etc. with the shopkeeper (and that's before the whole process of buying a lottery ticket has even begun)...
6 comments:
Ah! Village Life. Glorious. Wouldn't change it for the world. Long ay it continue in 1960's mode.
I'm still dreaming of village life - maybe 2010 for me.
I live the village life - thatch cottage (with tarp, cos it's leaking) wafer thin lath & plaster walls so my heating bills are massive, just the one pub, icy snow covered roads, No schools.
No muggings, no break-ins - not much traffic not much noise. You can see the stars in the cold black night skies.
It's perfect.
If I ever trade my riverbank cottage for another life, I hope it's in a small village, or better, at the outskirts of a small village, yet still within easy walking distance.
Your village looks lovely.
It's that single pub that worries me most, Alan. How do you get by?
Yes, those wonderful starry, starry nights - away from the city's sodium glare.
Perfect, indeed.
Please don't trade your riverbank cottage, Grizzled. Ever! We enjoy it there so much. It's an Internet 5 star.
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