Well the day has arrived, though of course nothing will show as we go into the transition phase this year. Well the meal went well yesterday evening. Jo is going to ring the bells at 11 o clock tonight in the church, our time, to celebrate our independence from Europe. She never changes the time on her watch in true British style.
As I said the meal went well, we sat in a packed horseshoe round the room, noisy, people chattering and bursts of laughter. The carvery is well organised, table by table we go into the inner bar, Harriet cuts great slices of meat for the plate, and then buffet style people help themselves to vegetables, roast and new potatoes, swollen Yorkshire puds and a vat of gravy. There is always a vegetarian lasagne for us so-called vegetarians, though in truth I am a flexitarian. Some people eat huge amounts of food, going back for seconds. The puddings are always welcome, though again large. On our table three puddings went the round of 8 people. Strawberry cheesecake, a toffee one and a rice pudding, said to be the best rice pudding ever.
David stood up and in his best town crier voice, called 'order', 'order', silencing us all, but he had only one notice to proclaim, watercolour painting at the Mission Hall in Marton and that from Rosina.
The village is changing I sat opposite the new people that had arrived in the cottage over the road, whilst the attached bungalow is also being renovated for its owner to move back in. She has three foxhounds, and the other people are waiting for a beagle pup to arrive - so a lot of barking might be on the books in the future.
I love the way generations of farming people sit amongst the suburbias, the farmers large and fresh-faced, whilst their elderly parents sit content in their world of retirement. Change happens almost on an invisible note, I note those against the new wedding venue on the farm over the bridge are not at the meal, but Rosina agrees with me, we shall see what happens without making judgement, and as she says, there would have been more uproar if a pig unit would have been established.....
The village is changing I sat opposite the new people that had arrived in the cottage over the road, whilst the attached bungalow is also being renovated for its owner to move back in. She has three foxhounds, and the other people are waiting for a beagle pup to arrive - so a lot of barking might be on the books in the future.
I love the way generations of farming people sit amongst the suburbias, the farmers large and fresh-faced, whilst their elderly parents sit content in their world of retirement. Change happens almost on an invisible note, I note those against the new wedding venue on the farm over the bridge are not at the meal, but Rosina agrees with me, we shall see what happens without making judgement, and as she says, there would have been more uproar if a pig unit would have been established.....
That sounds like a nice evening out Thelma. I see they go for Manly Portions of food too!! We were in Tenby yesterday, and as we walked past the chippy, I recalled a meal we had had in there once, and whilst waiting for our meal to be brought out, we were mesmerised by a family tucking into the "large" portion (we had ordered small and still could have shared it between us!) - my gosh, half a bucketful of chips and what looked like a slab of whale! Must have been more than 2000 calories just on each plate .. .
ReplyDeleteWe always used to share the meal when we got one from the pub, though I am pleased to see some pubs advertising small meals as well, a step in the right direction. I like the idea of Manly Portions of food, what they are doing is preparing meals for those 6 foot farmers.
ReplyDeleteSounds like pretty normal village life to me.
ReplyDeleteConsoling in its ordinariness.
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