It's one of those villages quietly tucked away, with pretty old cottages covered in roses.
It's a bit like one you read about in an Agatha Christie crime novel. Apart from the high murder count .
Living amongst the English people as a Dutch person I think the trait that stands out most amongst them is kindness.I have been treated so kindly by so many in this village .
Behind my front-garden you can see a cottage in the distance.The lady who lives there has a very busy life but she walked my dogs every day for me when I was pretty much flat out and would be home late.What a woman!
There have been many kind acts like this - and others , like finding a huge bag of dried dog food on my door-step left for my dogs when money was tight. Or finding birthday presents on my doorstep.
The love for roses is a real English thing.In June all the cottages around here are covered them.
This shed belongs to an old gentleman.He lives two doors down.He is a fantastic gardener and his roses are the bomb .His delphiniums are about the height of a giraffe and never fall over.His secret is lots of manure he said .No fertiliser ever.
I know they are know for reserve.But I find that a good thing. You can wear a ridiculous hat and they won't bat an eyelid.
They absolutely love their gardens and have a great sense of beauty and also a great skill in how to create a lovely garden .
And they do their best to make their home and entrance inviting.
This fence with the extra wire is really because they have three dogs by the way and they live near a road.
Which brings me to another thing about the English.They all adore dogs.
The annual dog show is one of the most enjoyable, silly and absolutely not to be missed events of the year.
I think most English people secretly think dogs are better than people.It's not a bad life to be a dog in an English village.
And I like that.
It's way better than in Holland. Dogs are second rate citizens there , a butt of dog-poo jokes by comedians .There are areas in Amsterdam where the pavements have to be walked on eyes downwards to find a space with no poo.Big dogs are cooped up in tiny high rise appartments and they only get walk on the pavement.
No , it's not a bad life to be a dog in an English village.
And it's not a bad life for a person here either.
OK, it's not perfect.When the weather is fine, and it's weekend, everyone gets the lawnmower out.And instead of mowing all their lawns all at the same time, mower one starts, then after that one is finished, the neighbour with mower two starts.Then when that is finished, mower three starts.brr, brr, brr, brr , vroom, vroom vroom.All day sometimes.
Think, people, think! Coordination !
That is about my only complaint.But for the rest it's pretty groovy .
I'd like to point out I have not been paid by the English Tourist Board or any other Village related thingie.
And I would also like to thank all my neighbours, especially Jo,Alison, Lloyd, Margaret and Judith for being such great neighbours.
Have a great day everyone.