Some people have commented that Going Gently depicts a village which is overly friendly and wonderfully community minded.
I disagree.
I think Trelawnyd is no different to most communities rural or otherwise. I just think I am am lucky enough to be around to see the small village " snippets" that would be perhaps overlooked by others.
When you walk around an art gallery a hundred times, you will see more in the paintings...so to speak
Today is a case in point.
I have spent the entire morning hand delivering Flower Show minutes to the committee and the donations from the committee to their respective recipients, and the mild weather seems to have brought the village into life
The only thing not bursting into life was Winnie
For some reason she decided to sulk In her favourite arm chair all morning. Bulldogs can take sudden umbrage with the best of people and situations...
When they go like this, it's best to leave them to it.
At 10.40 the little nipper bus stops in the village as it weaves its way down through the lower village of Dyserth and then to Prestatyn by the sea. Today twelve people stood waiting for it to arrive, among them Jackie ( who has the bad tempered Labrador ) Mary with her all singing and all dancing walking frame and Gay Gordon who bellowed out his usual " HELLO FLOWER" as I passed.
We really should have a village shop INSIDE the village
The Polish workmen and their ever cheerful foreman at the derelict houses on London Road all waved when we passed . They have worked very hard rebuilding the original stone wall by the road and as we ambled up Byron Street, I spied a serious looking Mrs Trellis through her living room window, practicing on her piano.
I dropped off AuntieGlad's copies of the Flower Show minutes ( she always has specially made copies that are twice the font size of any of the others) and chatted to Islwyn's brother who was working on the house next door which has just been sold. The two houses are the oldest in the village
I saw and passed some time with animal helper Pat, Margaret C and Muvvie, the ever smiling Ann M and her hubby Terry and then dropped off a payment of 20£ to farmer Basil whose contracted hedge cutters had trimmed my field hedgerows a week or so ago. Basil's sheepdog always give me a dagger look from his position on the passenger seat. The terriers all eye him coldly. They hate farm dogs.
As I get home Carol R suddenly leans over the garden wall and called breathlessly " I need two eggs!...I'm doing the hairy biker's Christmas Cake and I've run out!" She giggles helplessly after saying the words " The Hairy Bikers" out loud.
I had been out just shy of two and a half hours.... And all I had done was to deliver 14 envelopes!
Winnie was still sulking when we got home
I disagree.
I think Trelawnyd is no different to most communities rural or otherwise. I just think I am am lucky enough to be around to see the small village " snippets" that would be perhaps overlooked by others.
When you walk around an art gallery a hundred times, you will see more in the paintings...so to speak
Today is a case in point.
I have spent the entire morning hand delivering Flower Show minutes to the committee and the donations from the committee to their respective recipients, and the mild weather seems to have brought the village into life
The only thing not bursting into life was Winnie
When they go like this, it's best to leave them to it.
At 10.40 the little nipper bus stops in the village as it weaves its way down through the lower village of Dyserth and then to Prestatyn by the sea. Today twelve people stood waiting for it to arrive, among them Jackie ( who has the bad tempered Labrador ) Mary with her all singing and all dancing walking frame and Gay Gordon who bellowed out his usual " HELLO FLOWER" as I passed.
We really should have a village shop INSIDE the village
The Polish workmen and their ever cheerful foreman at the derelict houses on London Road all waved when we passed . They have worked very hard rebuilding the original stone wall by the road and as we ambled up Byron Street, I spied a serious looking Mrs Trellis through her living room window, practicing on her piano.
I dropped off AuntieGlad's copies of the Flower Show minutes ( she always has specially made copies that are twice the font size of any of the others) and chatted to Islwyn's brother who was working on the house next door which has just been sold. The two houses are the oldest in the village
I saw and passed some time with animal helper Pat, Margaret C and Muvvie, the ever smiling Ann M and her hubby Terry and then dropped off a payment of 20£ to farmer Basil whose contracted hedge cutters had trimmed my field hedgerows a week or so ago. Basil's sheepdog always give me a dagger look from his position on the passenger seat. The terriers all eye him coldly. They hate farm dogs.
As I get home Carol R suddenly leans over the garden wall and called breathlessly " I need two eggs!...I'm doing the hairy biker's Christmas Cake and I've run out!" She giggles helplessly after saying the words " The Hairy Bikers" out loud.
I had been out just shy of two and a half hours.... And all I had done was to deliver 14 envelopes!
Winnie was still sulking when we got home
maybe Winnie has PMT? Bless her "I vant to be alone!".
ReplyDeleteShe's got over herself now and has been rubbing her fanny on the hearth
Delete"She's got over herself now and has been rubbing her fanny on the hearth"
DeleteHa.That's another John Gray classic line.
for the love of god
DeleteThe last time I delivered anything in our area I had abuse shouted at me and was practically chased down the road. They were only Green Party leaflets! I guess he wasn't a supporter.
ReplyDeleteWhere do you live chickpea? Brooklyn?
DeletePoor Winnie...hope she comes out of her doldrums soon.
ReplyDeleteSee above D
DeleteIf I took the time to write my observations about my neighborhood, I think it would be very much like Trelawnyd. We have our recognizable characters and dogs and cats, but not sheep and turkeys. At least, not that I know of. I hope Winnie perks up soon. I hate to see someone mope.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Janie
Janie...see above.............she's bounced back!
DeleteIf I wrote about my village with real named characters and told all the details that I hear I'd be run out of the place as soon as word got around. Much as I enjoy your reports John, I suspect they report ony the news fit to be read by all rather than the even more interesting village news. I have long though of blogging my places really interesting news (aka scandal bitching and backbiting, along with all the humour and cosy stuff) but even with every name disguised it would have to be utterly anonymous. Pondering... I may feel a project coming on.
Deleteand here's the l,t and ' that are strangely arriving late
DeleteAndrew
DeleteYou are right of course
All punches generally have to be pulled if you live in a village where some people read what you write
I think people like you, John. Prove there is still community spirit. Just walking around delivering Flower Show minutes proves that you make the community happen. Wish we had a community centre, bus stop, pub or shop.
ReplyDeleteDave... You must have something?
DeleteAlone at my fifty acre wood, I have nothing much to report. The deer and the animals and the weather. It would put you to sleep. No human contact for the last several days.
ReplyDelete50 acres!
DeleteLady of the manor!
Perhaps Winnie is not sulking but simply has "the vapors".
ReplyDelete"They hate farm dogs" made me snort out loud!
They do!
DeleteBlack and white collie dogs get on their tits
I often make the rounds of the township for one reason or another, and enjoy the little chats. Your post reminds of me going door to door in a city neighborhood, accompanied by a dog who dropped in beside me. Occasionally he would block the path to a house and I needed to go around. Eventually I realized he was a paper boy's dog, and I was going to houses that didn't take the paper.
ReplyDeleteI love this story Joanne....it's wonderful.......
DeleteWhat IS a township joanne? I've always wondered
Sigh. You've asked the person who could rhapsodize for hours about the Northwest Ordinance of 1787, that outlined how states were formed (after the original 13), and were divided into squares measuring six miles on each side, subdivided into 36 sections, one to be used for public grazing, one for public education, to be managed by three trustees and a clerk. The six square miles (allowing for geographical features) are townships. I am the clerk of my township. It is the most direct form of government; we answer directly to the people.
DeleteI see....... I always thought a township was another name for a village
DeleteYou Americans don't seem to have villages
Just small towns
Going Gently does depict an extraordinarily community-minded village. That's because it's the village through your loving eyes. If I wandered through, I'd probably find some boring, stone-walled place and look askance at that burly fellow in the stained sweater with a fistful of envelopes, walking too many dogs down the street.
ReplyDeleteRand you'd be right Alison
Delete(You forgot the stupid hat....affable despot jason saw my hat this afternoon and said I looked like an extra from NORTHERN EXPOSURE
That's a bit harsh Alison!
DeleteShe knows me so well
DeleteSaid out of love, nat'rly.
Deleteand wearing crocs. btw, Northern Exposure was a fun show; at least I thought so. The town I live in now has a bit of that flavour.
DeleteThere is no community spirit in my neighborhood. Everyone keeps to themselves. I might see my next door neighbor once or twice a year when I go the the mailbox and he happens to be outside. We have a little chat and that's about it. There is a patch of woods between our houses. I did have a chat with another neighbor about his dogs recently. You know the spill. On no, they won't bite. They are just protecting the neighborhood!! Thank you, but I don't need their protection in my yard when the German Shepard comes charging at me. I've stopped my daily walk because of those dogs. I never know when they are loose. Now, I wouldn't mind Ms. Winnie. I'd shower her with kisses!!
ReplyDeleteJohn is the hotmail address on the Trelawnyd History blog a good email address for you?
Yes Gail...it's my email
DeleteWe have the Stepford dogs who belong to the Stepford wives, they attack all the other dogs while the wives are gossiping and not paying attention. My dogs would gladly swap them for the working dogs near you any day x
ReplyDeleteWinnie sounds just like our (late) dog. He could sulk for England!
ReplyDeleteAfter a walk he would stride into the kitchen, back straight, tail carried high with attitude, completely ignore me, through into the front room and into his basket, lying with his back to the room facing the wall, giving out huge sighs intermittently.
I'd ask Himself 'What's the matter with him?' Answer? 'We've had words'
Lol
DeleteWinnie has another reason for the slugs
She is coming into season
You’re a good man John Gray
ReplyDeleteDitto doc ditto
DeleteI like reading your posts about the quaint and friendly charms of Trelawnyd because it's just like reading James Herriot. A gay James Herriot, of course, but that makes it even better.
ReplyDeleteI used to read james Herriot avidly when I was a boy of 11
DeleteIt's probably one reason I went to live in yorkshire much of my adult life
You sure Winnie's not just got trapped inside those folds of face and can't pop herself back out?
ReplyDeleteHaha
DeleteJohn, in my opinion you get out of village life what you put into it and your perambulations round the village this morning show exactly where you fit into that.
ReplyDeleteI don't think Winnie is sulking, I think she is just a tired old dog (and I know exactly what that feels like!)
She's just started her season pat
DeleteI guess I'll have to dig out a pair of chris' underpants and the sanitary towels
Weaver has just taken the words out of my mouth. We live in a small community and although we have only been here a year we are already involved and we are quite well known and P takes vegetables and eggs to friends he has made and the girl up the road picks up my purchases from the auction room for me. I appear to be quite well known in a short space of time..
ReplyDeleteLol....Rachel I am not at all surprised xx
DeleteI loved reading this blog. Thank you for posting.
ReplyDeleteOkay. Andrew MacLaren-Scott wins the comment award.
ReplyDeleteWhile any of us could write about the people we come into contact with in our towns/cities/villages, trust me when I say, in my part of New Jersey, there is no one like you or Bunty and no one is yelling "Hello Flower!" to a handsome, burly man.
ReplyDeleteI think that is the appeal. It is not like here and it makes me smile.
Well that's my biggest compliment x
DeleteYou could open a village shop in your spare time !!
ReplyDeleteI'm thinking of starting a veg co op in the village hall
DeleteYou have the enormous talent of making the mundane magical.....I'm going to look up the "hairy bikers Christmas cake".. might make one myself .
ReplyDeleteSuzie
DeleteThank you
Every day is what we make it. Keep making yours quaint and sharing with us. Perhaps it will rub off and catch on across the globe.
ReplyDeleteWinnie is cute even when she sulks.
ReplyDeleteYou paint such a beautiful piece of paradise in your village. The interactions are wonderful and humorous. I am never disappointed when I visit.
ReplyDeleteThe reason why Trelawnyd sounds so friendly is probably because you are so gregarious. If one is friendly with people, they are usually friendly back!
ReplyDeleteI'm certain that Winnie is all smiles on the inside. Perhaps she's just introverted. I occasionally used to be accused of appearing miserable when in reality I was being reflective and far from sad - even counting my blessings. Maybe Winnie knows that the home she's got is every bit as good as it gets - or can be.
ReplyDeleteVillage life, I love it. It takes me 20 minutes to walk to the village hall, when it should take less than five.
ReplyDelete