The Village how I miss it. I see last year I gathered together my memories so I do again this year. Yesterday the first Xmas email from a friend telling me the happenings of the year. Who had died, dear C had gone, she had a permanent illness that eventually took her this year. I remember taking her to hospital appointments in Scarborough and trying to find a dog for her. We never did, luckily her daughter came down to look after her.
Someone else has died but I cannot remember his face. J and D are still going strong, their rescue dog has since died but now they have another rescue dog and the cats are still with them, probably in the barn for D would not have them in the house.
Living next door to the church we saw the burials and the occasional wedding. I always remember the boy who committed suicide on the other side of our house, which was The Sun pub. The lad was buried near the wall that separated us from the graveyard and the grave was tended with such tender love by the family you would have cried to see his brother, cross legged on the ground talking to him many an evening.
Though many people were incomers it was a tight knit community, meeting together several times a year, either for quizzes, barbeques and Xmas event. It was also a community losing its church because hardly anyone went to the services and our vicar had three churches to attend.
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