Easter gone.

It seems I survived Easter, with some sitting in the garden, some chocolate and some roast lamb.  Not so bad without the children here after all.  It was quite quiet here in the village; I get the sense that a lot of people in addition to Delyth have taken advantage of the double bank-holiday weekend arrangement.  Verity popped in yesterday to see me on the way back from a trip to Amsterdam – she’s got something Important organised for Friday, so she had to be back.  She brought me back some Gouda, bought when she was inadvertently caught up in a trip to a cheese farm.  “The smell was unbelievable, but I felt so sorry for all those little Dutch people, so I bought some cheese to make them happy.  None of them could even afford the clogs that were on sale.  You know, I didn’t see a single Dutch person wearing clogs!”

I decided not to bother telling her that nowadays they only wear clogs for the tourists and thanked her for the cheese.

“And while I’m here,” she added, “you really need to sort out your blog.  It’s getting quite confusing.  You make it sound as though we live in a circle of ramshackle huts!  My house is quite modern, it’s only six years old.  And Felicity in the Manor Lodge, her house may be old, but she’s had it completely refurbished.  She and Dennis are putting it forward for some TV programme.”

“What’s that got to do with my blog? Do you want me to mention the programme in it?”

Verity heaved a sigh.  She and I are good friends despite our differences but we are on completely different wavelengths.  She did explain, though.  It seems she thinks I haven’t described the village clearly enough and I haven’t been writing much about what’s been going on lately.  I suppose the second of those is true; once I stopped trying to write it every day, the urgency had gone slightly.

So I have promised Verity I will try harder to write about what’s going on in the village, even on a small scale.  You will hear all about our street party in a garden and how the local dominoes team is doing.  “It’s the minutiae that make it special,” she said.  In my opinion it can also be the relation of minutiae that bores the pants off people, but we’ll see.