Wednesday 25 March 2009

I can't leave the place for a mere minute

Why is it that when you leave the village for more than a few days, literally all hell breaks loose? You see, let me explain, l had not too bad a week at the Cheltenham National Hunt Festival and decided to spend my meager winnings on a quick trip to Marrakesh. That old romantic, Humph sent me a brief email suggesting a rendezvous in Morocco as he had a few days leave from the dig on the West Bank at Luxor. So here l am back in the village and on my first trip to the Village Stores to collect my newspapers l was bombarded with and updated on the latest village news.

It came as no surprise to myself, that my darling brother was once again centre of attention. Mini bus loads of women had descended on Much Dimley, searching for the 'lonely man in the papers'. Dearest brother had apparently moved in with Taffy Owen to escape the onslaught whilst Miss Knox had set up a temporary base in the lay by opposite Taffy's drive. It was being said that Sybil, Taff's wife, was not amused by recent developments and there had been a heated exchange of words at The Much Dimley Bowling Club's recent AGM. What makes all this so ridiculous is that t he program hasn't even been aired as yet. What will become of Monks then, l ask myself?

The next source of village agitation was the erection of a fine electronic gate heralding the entrance to Longshort Manor. It is said, and l will need to confirm this on my morning's perambulations, a most wonderful piece of iron work containing polo sticks and horses, however the entrance to the Manor has long been a public right of way, the footpath turning a sharp left hander onto an ancient drovers road. Well, it used to be for now theses majestic gates have completely blocked the route taken by horse rider and walker alike. No more access here. Both Mrs Blacker and Old Blaster joyously informed me that the local council had been informed as had the Ramblers Association, but so far nothing much seemed to have happened as the gates were still firmly shut to the hoi palloi.

Well so much for village life and l did have such a delicious time in Marrakesh and I am pleased to say that Morris-from-the-bottom-of-the-Lane did appreciate the little package that l collected for him from one of the little souks.







5 comments:

muddyboots said...

Oh dear, those gates do sound as though they could become a real problem, has anyone tried taking them down?

Grouse said...

Hmmmmmmm barriers.....never a good thing?

Un Peu Loufoque said...

I do wish I had known you were orf to marroc Mrs E I might have given you a shopping list dear!!

Pondside said...

Nasty people, putting up those gates. No feeling of community at all.
I hope there wasn't anything 'iffy' in that small package you picked up for Morris.

Fantastic Forrest said...

"A quick trip to Marrakesh."

AWESOME! That is how I want to spend my meager winnings.

First I need to win some...

Will someone monkeywrench that gate? I feel an Edward Abbey moment coming.