Little Bunting
This funny little village is not very pretty - and yet, about a hundred years ago it was described as one of the prettiest in this part of the county.
Still, it is what it is,
home.
home.
I am working on a rough diagram of the village.
It is a strange shape,
almost like a wineglass, including the stem.
The village green is almost landlocked by back gardens,
the only access is down a green lane,
so well hidden between houses
that it took me a while to find it the first time.
The village hall is minute,
the village school closed, sold.
It is currently being converted to homes.
Impossible for me to rejoice in seeing the old building come to life again,
for
my grandchildren should have been attending it.
Instead they have to travel five miles by bus.
More of this another time.
The churchyard both delights and saddens me.
It is reasonably well kept these days,
but has obviously suffered neglect at some time.
Some grave stones have been hidden from view
by yew trees
and assorted shrubbery.
The church it belonged to
was demolished by a Parliamentarian in the 1600's.
He used the stones on his neighbouring estate
in Dovecote Dell, just a couple of fields away.
His story is a fascinating one,
but he should have kept his hands off our church building!
More of him some other time.
We have a pub,
but
no village shop,
although there is talk that the pub may open a small one soon.
The Post Office closed years ago,
as did the butcher's shop
and
the old blacksmith sold up just a couple of years ago.
The wonderful old equipment was sold at auction
and the forge now lies empty and cold.
It is a strange shape,
almost like a wineglass, including the stem.
The village green is almost landlocked by back gardens,
the only access is down a green lane,
so well hidden between houses
that it took me a while to find it the first time.
The village hall is minute,
the village school closed, sold.
It is currently being converted to homes.
Impossible for me to rejoice in seeing the old building come to life again,
for
my grandchildren should have been attending it.
Instead they have to travel five miles by bus.
More of this another time.
The churchyard both delights and saddens me.
It is reasonably well kept these days,
but has obviously suffered neglect at some time.
Some grave stones have been hidden from view
by yew trees
and assorted shrubbery.
The church it belonged to
was demolished by a Parliamentarian in the 1600's.
He used the stones on his neighbouring estate
in Dovecote Dell, just a couple of fields away.
His story is a fascinating one,
but he should have kept his hands off our church building!
More of him some other time.
We have a pub,
but
no village shop,
although there is talk that the pub may open a small one soon.
The Post Office closed years ago,
as did the butcher's shop
and
the old blacksmith sold up just a couple of years ago.
The wonderful old equipment was sold at auction
and the forge now lies empty and cold.
The small number of residents generally fall into one of several categories.
The Pub Regulars.
The Village Hall Group.
The WI.
The Churchgoers.
Of course these groups do overlap
to some extent.
Some people attend everything,
others are never seen anywhere other than in their car
as they arrive,
or
depart from the village.
Then there are the dog walkers...
and that is a whole other can of worms.
Please remember that all words and photographs belong to me.
If this post is found anywhere other than Felicity at Parsonage Cottage Blogspot then it will have been stolen and action would be appreciated.
Many thanks,
Felicity
No comments:
Post a Comment
Lovely to hear from you.
I will try to answer comments in the next post.