Pig muck is being spread in the vicinity somewhere. It’s a mild, damp day with little breeze and the pong hangs heavily in the air. I don’t mind, it’s a natural smell and there with a good purpose – one can’t agree with farmers using manure instead of artificial fertilisers and then complain about the smell. Well, people do, usually the sort who move to the country for the peace and quiet and then discover it’s just as noisy, only different. But we’re easy-going round here and take things as we find them, usually.
This village doesn’t have much outward community spirit, in fact. There’s an annual Village Fête, the Bowls Club, a football team and the village pub, but the town is only a mile away and hardly anyone both lives and works here and they tend to go to Yagnub or Norwich for entertainment. The church isn’t exactly the hub of the community, although the school receives strong support. A few years ago there was a bit of a problem there and we discovered just how much the village thinks of their school. Otherwise, there’s never much going on here. However, it’s all friendly and pleasant, and somehow people do seem to know what’s going on and be ready to help out. They just won’t bother you. Or complain about every small problem.
Quite gratified that the first of the ordered items – well, several, three parcels-worth – has turned up already. Two of the other three orders have been sent so I expect they’ll arrive tomorrow. It’s retail joy around here and I can feel the wrinkles soften already, even though the face stuff is what hasn’t been sent yet. I expect it will have been by close of play today though. They’re very reliable. As it is, I’ve got a lovely lot of stationery to unpack, including several reams of paper. It seems absurd that it can be cheaper to have paper delivered than go to buy it myself, but there we go. And it saves me having to carry it, and my petrol.