What's On in the Village Hall Today

We had a little carol singing party in the village hall today.    It was not well supported; just the usual tiny group of strangers who have become friends over the last few years.   

We had the lovely Carol on the keyboard, belting out tunes in a very high key, and at double speed while the rest of us tried to sing along. 

We were even worse than last year, and that was embarrassingly bad.

There were mince pies, festive bakes, chocolates, crisps and lots of naughty treats, along with tea and coffee.    We sang, very badly, played games, chatted, laughed, had fun.

The singing was terrible.   Really and truly.   It was worse than bad.    I recorded the group singing a couple of songs (discreetly) on my phone.   I had intended to post a clip on here.

It is so dreadful that I know it would go viral.

Still, it was a fun little gathering and it was nice to see the village hall being used.

Life

This end of the year always seem to fly by at twice the normal speed.    Admittedly I have put in quite a lot of time in making chutneyand so on as I try to deal with the glut of green tomatoes(!), making some bottles of Christmas Pudding Vodka, Bramble Gin, mincemeat and assorted tasty treats.     The pantry shelves are groaning with delights, most of which will be making their way to the church sale this weekend.

I have also helped and encouraged the grandchildren to put some time and effort into making pine cone bird feeders, twiggy stars, natural fire lighters, and so on.   I have just about run out of steam now and that mad and seasonal need to craft and create has almost ended!   I inflict this madness on myself each year, I both love it and hate it.

This afternoon I attended the monthly meeting at the village hall.     Our wonderful local historian brought this marvellous photograph in to show us.    Our tiny village hall, way back in 1915, when the ladies were gathered to sew and make things for the men who were away fighting in the First World War.

There we were in our denims, sweatshirts and boots, all so casually dressed for warmth and practicality - no doubt the women in the photograph would have been shocked.       They all look so smart in their hats and beautiful white blouses.   

The hall looks nothing like the photograph now.   The oil lamps have gone, the panelling, balcony, coat rack and staircase have all been removed and what was a very characterful hall was remodelled and updated thirty or forty years ago and has become a small, bland and anonymous building.

We chatted about some local history and then Miss Read handed out some worksheets which I had typed up for her.     Once a teacher, always a teacher.   She had written a short story, which was really a bit of a quiz, with about two dozen town and city names/part names hidden among the story.  It sometimes took quite a bit of lateral thinking, but it was great fun.

Then we played dominoes which was much more fun than it sounds.    After we had locked the hall, I went out with a friend to deliver the parish magazines around the three local villages/hamlets.   Then had to race home to cook tea for the grandchildren; thank goodness for beans on toast.

Yesterday we decided not to attend the usual Remembrance Parade in one of the local towns.  We had decided to visit a tiny church which is no longer used as a church but has been sold on.

This was why we made the trek.   It is the only Commonwealth War Grave in the old churchyard and it marks the grave of an unknown sailor who was washed ashore and buried here during the war.  Eventually they established his identity - the uncle of a Scottish friend of ours.   Our friend has never been able to make a visit to his uncle's grave.

It was nice to see that someone else had visited.    Possibly a representative of the Merchant Navy Association, given the markings on the wooden cross they had left.     As I stood up and looked out across the fields I could see another of my favourite redundant churches.   Three of his shipmates were buried in that churchyard, so he has company not too far away.

I suppose that now I have all the craft work and preserving out of the way I will just have to knuckle down and do some housework. 

Noooo-o, so boring!

Wishing you all a happy week.

Marbling the Village Hall

Yesterday afternoon the tiny village hall was almost filled to bursting (slight exaggeration) as a dozen ladies of the parish attended our monthly TED's meeting.



They didn't come along for the local history, and I am fairly sure the refreshments were not what got them across the threshold.  My bet is that the chairman of our local Parish Council 'whipped' them in, for she was hosting the meeting and had arranged for someone to come and demonstrate the ancient art of marbling.


Whatever the answer, it was good to see the hall buzzing with conversation and activity.

The newcomers were introduced and some people found that they had been living almost next door to one another for over three years and yet had never met...and this is in a very small village - the total number of parish residents is 185, and a good number of them don't live in the village.

Then the demonstration got under way.    Our instructor explained the process, then showed us how to marble on fabric, paper, stones, wood, tiles - almost anything which is porous and can be submerged.    It was fascinating and magical.

Lots of different techniques, no two are ever the same.

This is a tiny mounted canvas - a few twirls with a cocktail stick, to swirl and curl the paint, a quick dip, and this pattern is what appeared.


A very jolly couple of hours passed, eventually we left clutching our own pieces of marbled fabric.

The lovely Miss Read was there, of course.  She enjoys anything to do with crafting and was one of the first ones to get stuck in and have a play.

She was also absolutely thrilled to bits when she spotted the enormous woollen tablecloth( click for story) which used to belong to the village WI.     My husband and I had been into the hall to hang it from a metal curtain pole, for all the village to see - on those rare occasions when they attend a function in the hall.


Unfortunately I forgot to take a photograph, I was slightly distracted by all the possibilities offered by the art of marbling - I am thinking about fabrics for fairies, end papers for books and journals, wrapping paper, greetings cards, etc.

Of course I had to come back down to earth - help to clear away the cups and saucers, then dash home to get tea ready for the grandchildren.

Still, it hasn't stopped my brain from ticking over, I like the potential of that craft.

Next month we are having a visit from an elderly woman who used to live in the next hamlet along, I believe she is a few years older than Miss Read, so we are looking forward to hearing her reminiscences of village life.     

It would be marvellous if we could have a similar turnout.

Owl Wood and Village Life

This is Owl Wood and Parsonage Cottage viewed from the barley field.    It looks like a little village because of the number of sheds which seem to be an essential part of country life!  Log stores, tool shed, workshops, old chicken house, polytunnel, plus large compost bins and assorted log storage and cutting areas. 

I should say here, Owl Wood is not as large as it looks in this photograph, it is merely the portion on the left, the other trees are across the lane and belong to assorted farmers!   The barley field doesn't belong to us, either, it just feels that way because Farmer T calls it our lawn. 

Most of the leaves have fallen  and the majority seemed to find their way to the main patio, in drifts several feet deep, thanks to the wild and mischievous winds.  I love the trees throughout the seasons, the splendour of the foliage in spring, summer and the glories of autumn, but in winter I take pleasure in seeing the graceful elegance of their form.   

Owl Wood is always interesting, at this time of year there are lots of berries and fungi, a few crab apples still cling to the trees and the ground is strewn with lots of fallen branches and twigs.    There will be plenty of warming exercise in clearing that lot up, the payoff being that there will be lots of kindling to be dried and used throughout the winter.

I have spotted all manner of mushrooms, some nibbled one day, gone the next, nice to think that they made a good meal for a hungry animal.

I would love to know who ate this - squirrel, deer, rabbit?

Some fungi nestling among the undergrowth, others growing on the old trees stumps and dead wood.

One of these days I will take my camera with me, these are all snapped on my phone, though I should really call it a camera, because I hardly ever use it for calls.

At this time of year it is a real joy to see the texture of old tree trunks, green ivy leaves and red berries, they never fail to delight me.

The north side of the old hen house - the roof is covered with beautiful green moss.

I headed into Louth, to get my hair cut.      It isn't the easiest salon to find, you have to walk down a tiny dark alley, head towards the light and you come out into a small courtyard.






Earlier in the year the courtyard is filled with masses of beautiful blooms, even in November they still manage to keep it looking attractive.    This is only the second time I have been there, it is a bit more down market than the place I used to visit, it costs less, but the hair cuts so far have been very good.

My previous hairdresser worked in a much more upmarket salon, and had magical scissors.   On my last visit to her she was running on time, but ended up at least twenty minutes late, because the customer before me had just returned from a holiday in Disney World, which just happened to be where she had booked a holiday.

They spent most of my appointment time oggling photographs on the customer's phone.   I really needed to have my hair cut, so I bit down my impatience at their rudeness and her unprofessional behaviour.    I should have left.    Her head was still filled with Disney, she gave me the worst haircut. 

So far, so good at the new salon.

Can you tell that I am taking life at a slower pace?    I have the time to make a start on a lovely Christmas jigsaw puzzle - I bought it from a charity shop, so I hope it has all the pieces!   I also made a huge batch of Ginger biscuits to fill up the biscuit barrel, they keep really well and seem appropriately warming for this time of year.

No time for puzzles today, though.   I need to bake a cake this morning, once I have walked the dog and seen my grandchildren onto the school bus. 

It is the second Monday in the month, which means that our village hall will be a meeting place for some of the older people in the area.    A sing song has been planned - oh joy!   If I play my cards right, I could man the kettle and serve the cake, keep busy and avoid having to sing along.

There won't be a meeting in January, but in February we are having someone in to give us a lesson on marbling paper, which should be fun.   It will cost us about £5 each, but to be honest, I would pay that just to avoid having to sing.  😳😸

Handbags, Cake & The Fickle Finger of Fate

These beautiful handbags are made from paper and card, beautiful gift bags, each one with a gift card and envelope inside. 

Perfect for the bazaar, and quickly snapped up.   

Someone else donated some delicious home made fudge.  People are so kind, these little gestures really help pad things out and sweeten the mix of things on offer.

The giant tombola stall is always popular, even though prizes ranged from toilet cleaner right the way up to champagne.

This beautiful cake was made by Miss Read's son and was then iced and decorated by Miss Read herself.  She raffles one each year.   I don't know how many years she has been doing it, but I do know that her raffle ticket sales add greatly to the final total; the cakes are as delicious inside as they look beautiful on the outside.

This was the main raffle stall, directly inside the entrance doors, the chilliest position in the hall.  It was run by 'The local Squire's' wife.

The two ladies who are buying their tickets are born and bred village residents.   They are always wonderfully supportive and appreciative, and very sweet, to boot.

Each year they shop until they drop, then they sit down and enjoy a pot of tea and some hefty slices of home-baked cake, chatting away until it is time for the raffles to be drawn.



I had a stall with a bran tub at one end, the Rudolph game at the other, angels and fairies in between,  including the raffle for the three fairies, though one has now grown pixie ears, so it was for two fairies and a pixie.

The hall was filled to the brim at times, even though only a small percentage of the local people turned out.     Angel and fairy sales went well, so did the bran tub - and the Rudolph game ensured that the hall was filled with the sound of laughter.     Participants and spectators all got the giggles. 

Miss Read kept forgetting about filling out raffle stubs and had much more fun watching the children play with Rudolph!

When things finally quietened down,  the main raffle was drawn.   These days we don't have dozens of small prizes, we tend to go for making up hampers and stockings.   This year there was a 'male' stocking, a 'female' one, a mystery wrapped hamper and the main prize was an enormous Christmas hamper.

It was filled to the brim with delicious eats, treats, drinks, crackers, toys, chocolates, a beautiful plant...

While the draw was taking place I turned my attention to the fairy raffle - checked the envelope with the winning fairy name against the entry sheet and saw to my horror that my granddaughter had written her name in the winning square for her £1 entry...without insider information, or access to the answer.

Hey ho!


Meanwhile, the large hamper prize was being drawn - " and the main hamper goes to XXX"...XXX being my granddaughter!

I decided that emergency action was required, after all I could easily make three special fairies for her....     Fortunately,  attention was then turned to the cake raffle.

I grabbed a pair of scissors and got snipping all the squares of fairy names and put them into a paper bag. 

The beautiful cake was won by the landlord of the local Tavern.   Then it was my fairy raffle.

I held the paper bag out for someone to draw the winning name..   Remember the photograph of the two women buying their raffle tickets?  I was delighted to see that the one in the blue coat had won the fairies!

She was thrilled, had the most enormous smile on her face and said that she wanted to give the three fairies to the little girl she had been standing next to when she purchased her ticket, because the little girl had really wanted to win, and had been telling her all about the fairies as she carefully printed out her name in her best handwriting, she is six years old.   

You guessed it, the little girl was my granddaughter!

Those fairies were destined to be hers and I shouldn't have tried to divert them, except that by doing so I made an elderly woman very happy, too. 

Madcap Ideas

At 8.45 am this morning, my daughter rang from school (she is a teacher) she was in full panic mode because there was to be a  meeting about the school's forthcoming Festive Fair, she needed a quick idea for a stall...just like that!

I was reluctant to suggest that she do crafts, because I knew who would have ended up making everything for the stall and I just don't have the spare time.   Instead, I suggested that she go for a game - how about Pin the Nose on Rudolph?

Then I was left in peace to make a cup of tea.   By 9 am my brain had kicked in and I was whizzing around, poking around in my cupboards, looking up on shelves, trying to see how I could make a quick version of the game to help pad out a corner of the village hall tomorrow.

This is what I ended up with.   I found a large unpainted canvas, quickly dashed off something approximating a friendly Rudolph, all the while wondering about how the game could be played.   Velcro, red felt, and dried peas came to my assistance.

I was quite pleased with the result and the good thing is that my daughter can then use it at her school fair in a week or two.

This afternoon a small handful of us gathered in the very cold village hall and set up tables, cloths, chairs, the Christmas tree, etc ready for tomorrow.       Everything is set and the hall is looking much jollier than it normally does on a dank November afternoon.

Everyone had a go with the Rudolph game, judging by the giggles and poor shots this afternoon,  I think it should go down well with any children who may come along.   Fingers crossed, anyway.

I will answer the comments from yesterday, probably the day after tomorrow, when things quieten down.   Meanwhile, thank you for reading and for all your comments.

I hope you have a wonderful weekend, whatever you are doing.

Mid November in a Small English Village

Walks, crafting, foraging, chatting and the many small things which make up much of my life.

I have spent most of this week making, and attaching, angel wings for the pipe cleaner angels, fairies and pixies, as well as those for the everyday angels made from wooden clothes pins, with the occasional zip around a few blogs, reading more than commenting.   Then, after five minutes off for good behaviour, my inner taskmaster had me back to work with needles and thread, glue, wire, crowns and embellishments.

These three dolls are what I will be using as a separate fundraiser at the bazaar - a simple game, like choosing a name from a list, £1 a go to win all three fairies.      So if you have any suggestions suitable names (or a better game) which I can use for my pick list they will be gratefully received. 

I have brain freeze on pretty names and games  at the moment.   It has to be something simple and fun to winkle a few extra pounds out of those pockets - all for the good causes, not for putting into my pocket!!

 
I still get out and about with Toby, of course.   He's not into fairies or pixies, so our usual quota of fresh air and exercise has been maintained.   Most of our walks are along farm tracks and the old railway line.

Sometimes we cut through the village on our way home. 

The autumnal display is almost over and it is so windy today that I think most of the remaining leaves will be leaving the trees before long.   There have been cold dank days, but there have also been some gloriously perfect autumnal days with early frost, blue skies and lots of wonderful sunshine.

Nature has been at work.    I had stopped to take the photograph when I was suddenly anointed, bird poo, splat on my head! 

I decided not to take the route back through the village, we stuck to fields and tracks.   I had a large reddish brown patch of 'luck' sitting on the front of my white hair.  Guess what the first thing I did when I got home was - a clue, it wasn't 'buy a lottery ticket'!

I attended the monthly meeting in the little village hall - just six of us this month.   We made final arrangements for the bazaar, viewed and chatted about some wonderful old snippets and photographs of local history which a friend had brought along,  nibbled cake and drank tea.   The final half an hour was spent in a sing-song.  Oh joy!

Where could I  hide?   The cups and plates had already been washed and dried.   I had to join in.   We all joined in and made a terrible noise... only one person could hold a tune and it wasn't me.

However, we actually enjoyed ourselves.   We let loose on the old songs and had fun.   Unfortunately that means more punishment next month - Christmas Carols.   I wonder whether I dare secretly record a snippet or two...

More beautiful walks, this is the very edge of the ancient woodland.   It was also library van week and I came away with a dozen books, my arms were much longer by the time I had carted them all home.

I squeezed in a bit of crafting with the grandchildren, here we are making some special firelighters, I really dislike the smell of commercial ones.   I saw this idea in a magazine.      I have no idea whether they work, but I thought we would give it a go because they are simple to make and visually pleasing.

Last year I did some candle-making with the grandchildren, so I had the wax and wicks, but you could use melted tealights, stub ends of candles, etc.     I gathered some small pine cones from a local woodland, a few hawthorn berries and rosehips, a few sprigs of Christmas tree trimmings (a lucky find on one of my walks - a farmer had felled a few Christmas trees and there were some sprigs left behind) some cinnamon and cloves plus paper cases.

The spices went into the bottom of the case, then the wick to the side, followed by the wax chips, we worked as a team, one spooned cinnamon, the other counted cloves, and I placed the wick.    We put them into a fairly low oven, keeping a careful eye on them until the wax had melted, then the real fun began. 

Pine cones, berries and snippets of green pine.   The children loved it.   So did I.  They cooled very quickly and look fabulous.

Needless to say, the housework is suffering, there are simply not enough hours in the day, and my day begins very early, 5am.    It has to, otherwise I can't fit in a peaceful hour before getting breakfast organised for the grandchildren who come over for an hour before school.     We have them for two hours after school.    By 9pm I am struggling to stay awake, so that has become bedtime, although these darker evenings make me think of sleep by 6pm!

My own cocoon from the world, maybe.  Just because I like cosy and homely, won't talk politics on my blog, or your blog, does not mean that I am blinkered. 

Blogs only reflect those bits we are willing to share.   😐

ps Please don't forget those suggestions for fairy names, or very simple games for the bazaar.x

Stitching Presidents

At a recent informal gathering
an older lady, a former village schoolteacher,
 came in to the village hall
hauling an enormous shopping trolley behind her.

We knew it must contain something interesting
because it had taken a lot of effort to drag it there
and
she only lives next-door-but-one to the hall.


A large and unwieldy bundle of white sheeting was extracted
and laid gently on the tables...

...carefully unfolded
 to reveal a large pure wool tablecloth
which has been embroidered with the names of all
the past Presidents of our village branch of
the Women's Institute.

The branch was formed in 1920
 and
 was extremely well supported for many years.

That support gradually dwindled
and
in 1998 the village branch was closed.

The corners have some white embroidery motifs which really lift the piece.

It's a really excellent piece of village history
of which
the woman with the trolley (a former President, for many years)
 has been guardian
since the branch was disbanded.

She feels that as it is a piece of village/WI/village hall history,
it should be out on display,
for the village
and
not left hidden in her wardrobe.

We all agreed.
I emailed the chairman of the Village Hall Committee
and he also agreed.

It will be displayed on a wall
for all to see and enjoy.

Such a shame that there is even less support for village hall activities
than there was when the local WI was disbanded.

Even the village hall committee has diminished in numbers
 people are dropping out like flies,
and
 others are reluctant to join in.

Signs of the times.




ps  I like the fact that one of those former presidents lived in this house,
many years before we bought the place. 

Village Elders and Food Art

Our tiny village hall was brought to life this afternoon as my daughter in law, Poppy, gave a demonstration on food art, Chinese style.

First she had to prepare the vegetables - no puny vegetable knife for Poppy!   

Fair to say that we all held our breath as she sliced and shaped the vegetables with her Chinese chopper knife.   

We were happy to note that she had brought plenty of pre-chopped vegetables for us to use, no need for plasters and first aid.

This picture gives you some idea of how much fun we all had as we were given the go-ahead to get decorating a platter for ourselves.

This is one of Poppy's demonstration pieces, luckily we didn't have to do anything quite that complicated.
Even so, faced with a blank platter, we all had a brief panic.

  
Luckily Poppy was there to lend a helping hand, a tweak here, a tidy there and suddenly our designs looked a whole lot better.

Poppy charmed everyone as she worked her way round the group,

so much, so that she has been invited back next month.

She's really going to spice things up - she'll be cooking and presenting some Chinese food, to be eaten with chopsticks, although alternative 'eating irons' will be available for those with stiff fingers.

Once Poppy gets cooking, and the aroma of her authentic Chinese food wafts around the village, I reckon we'll probably have a few extra mouths to feed.

The Decline of the Village Hall

There is an open meeting being held in the village hall tonight, something of a last gasp effort to try to keep this community resource in business.     I shall attend, of course, although I fear my feelings are somewhat mixed.

Of course we should do everything we can to try to keep things going but Little Bunting is a very small village and the hall is even smaller.    As always, there are those few who work hard trying to keep things going for everyone to enjoy, some who will turn up for events and disappear before the cleaning-up begins,  but there are even more who simply do not support any event.

In the past this small village, combined with the two even smaller ones nearby, used to have a real sense of community and the village hall was where everyone came together.

Times change, the demographic has changed, people no longer feel the need to come together in the village hall especially when what has been on offer is stuck in a time warp... bingo, beetle drives, and table top sales of the most cringe-makingly awful kind are simply not going to attract people, certainly not more than once.  

Anyway, a meeting has been called and I'll go along.

The tiny building in my header photograph is not the village hall, but it could be.

Well, that was a really interesting evening.   It began with just the Chairman and me, relief in his eyes when he saw that at least someone had showed up.    We set up a dozen chairs and a couple of tables, wondering whether we were being a little optimistic.

Threaten to take away their toys and you do get a reaction.

Twenty-two members of the community trickled in - some of them newcomers to the village, others who have lived there for a decade or more but who never support any of the functions.   They were surprisingly vocal.

The end result of this meeting, which deviated somewhat from the original aim, was that the residents of the village want their annual village show.   It is a huge event (for villages like Little Bunting, Butterbump Splash and Dovecot Dell) and it doesn't organise itself.  They want one to be organised ready for August 21st.

The people demanding it be thus have no idea of how much time and planning and sheer hard work goes into an event like that.   Normally the programme would be delivered to the community months ahead of the show so that people can grow the appropriate flowers, vegetables and begin making their craft/art projects, alcoholic drinks, etc.

Four weeks.  That is what we have got.


So the silent and inactive majority have spoken.  They want a show and they want their village hall kept open.   We'll jump through the hoops and perform a little miracle.  It is up to them to support it.  Fingers crossed, but don't hold your breath.

Village Life and a Village Death

Yesterday I attended another meeting at our tiny village hall.   It is a new group for the oldies and the new oldies, a new initiative by the local district council -  to show how much they care for country folk and the elderly.

I must extract my tongue from my cheek.

This is the same council which intends to make us pay for the street lighting in the village (eg they say the call-out fee would be about £700 to have someone change a light bulb... which could explain why we once had to wait almost two years for the only one near us to have the bulb changed) otherwise they will remove the poles and that will be that forever.

Of course this has stimulated much heated discussion within and without the village.  As ever there are those who want the lights left on, others don't see any benefit to themselves so are happy to opt out, while the rest simply don't care.

The jury is still out.   Either that or we just haven't been told of the final decision yet.

Anyway, they have some National Lottery funding burning a hole in their pocket and someone had the idea of opening up the village hall once a month so that the older folk (how strange it feels to be included in that group,  don't they realise that I am really only in my 20's?) can meet up and enjoy some social connection.

Yesterday's little gathering was attended by, perhaps, a dozen people.   Pretty good for such a tiny, and I do mean tiny, village.

We had cups of tea and slices of cake, lots of chat and discussion about how to proceed.    We will only meet once a month - funding can be found for the rent of the village hall and for expenses for someone to come in and give a talk, lesson, demonstration.   Doesn't sound too onerous, at the moment but that could change.

Although I notice it is the same ones as usual who have to set up the tables, make tea and then stack chairs, etc.   Nothing changes.

Miss Read, one of our village elders, a former school teacher, is going to get the ball rolling, which is nice of her.    Someone else wants to have an art class, another wants some plant advice from the more green-fingered among us,  and the idea of a meal at the pub was mooted too.    All pretty tame stuff.

But how about this?

Poppy, how about giving us a demonstration of how you can make these wonderful garnishes, or perhaps you could show everyone how you serve tea, Chinese-style?   The special tea would be purchased through expenses.

I think something like that would be well received and greatly appreciated by everyone.   Have a think about it.   Your audience would be tiny but very appreciative of your skills.

The tea ceremony would be something completely different and they would love the beauty and formality of it.

Enough of all that though.

The village has lost another elder, one of the truly long-term residents.  His family have lived here for generations - the old village blacksmith.

I posted about him on my old blog.  This was taken a few years ago when he had to give up working the forge due to ill health, so all the equipment was auctioned.  A sad day then and a sad day today.

The village signs acknowledge that we were once lucky enough to have a village blacksmith, so he won't be forgotten.