My Mum

Three years ago today my lovely Mum was 'Promoted to Glory' and although I
was privileged to be with her when she died there is not a day goes by that I
don't miss her dreadfully.
Writing about someone you love and you've lost is
incredibly difficult and I'm not even going to try. Instead I want to share a
poem with you that over the past three years I have found to be of immense
comfort.

Death is Nothing at All

Henry Scott Holland (1847-1918)


Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away into the next room,
I am and you are you,
Whatever we were to each other that we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way, which you always used,
Put no difference in your tone,
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow,
Laugh as we always laughed,
At the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect,
Without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant,
It is the same as it ever was.
There is unbroken continuity,
Why should I be out of mind,
Because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you, for an interval,
Somewhere very near,
Just around the corner, all is well.

To my Mum thank you. Thank you for your love, your laughter,your sense of fun, your drive, your determination but most of all thank you forbeing my Mum.
I will alway love you. God bless xx

Election Fever hits Clunbury

The events in Westminster seem so far removed from life in Clunbury. The comings and goings of MPs, the cabinet reshuffle, does it really involve us in our own little world of cows, sheep and baby foxes. Sadly it does and will do in the future. Personally I think Gordon Brown should dissolve Parliament, call a General Election and let the people have their say. If he does or not remains to be seen but I won’t hold my breath.

In the meantime though, we had our own little bit of excitement in Clunbury on Thursday when election fever hit the village. Okay so I’m exaggerating, it wasn’t a fever, not even a slightly raised temperature but we went out and did our bit. When I went down to vote the polling station was quieter than a church after a funeral. The two guys sitting there looked as if I’d woken them up but they still managed a smile. Things did pick up when Chris and Dan went down to vote though and our County Councillor was returned to the Council Chambers.

Now we wait for the European results, will they reflect the mood of the country, we shall see?

Magical

I haven't posted for a while (slap on the wrist) but tonight I saw something that I thought was totally magical. It was a baby fox. But I didn't see it once but twice. Twice it jumped out of the hedge in front of my car. He (I don't know if it was a he or a she) turned looked at me and then ran along the road looking for somewhere safe to escape to. It was wonderful.

Spring is in the air

Yes, definitely spring is in the air. The sun is shining, it's at least ten degrees warmer than it was a few short weeks ago and it feels so good. People are emerging from their houses where they've been hibernating since the autumn and with smiles on their faces, they're beginning to tackle their gardens.

I love this time of year when the buds appear on the trees and the snowdrops bring the hedgerows to life. The days are getting longer and the sunsets more brilliant. I think for me this is more the start of the new year than all the fireworks and bell ring on the 1st of January.

So, little Clunbury is stirring, emerging refreshed after her sleep and I for one, am very glad.

Happy New Year.

Capital grinds to a halt but Clunbury remains mobile

I had to laugh the other day when following heavy snow, London buses were taken off the road, the reason given, dangerous driving conditions. And yet, here in Clunbury, despite heavy snow, our bus service was business as usual.

Obviously our rural bus drivers are made of tougher stuff than the townies.

Snow joke but isn't it beautiful?

Ah the joys of living in the countryside. Peace, quiet and fresh air but when it snows, it snows cutting us off from the rest of the world.





But wow - it's beautiful

But what do you do, if you can't get out?

Build a snowman of course. That's what my youngest son Robin did. Now we have the only 'chav' in Clunbury residing on my front lawn.

Well it's different. If you like the snow, enjoy. If you don't wrap up warm and keep smiling, remember it will soon be spring.

In 1895 Alfred Edward Housman wrote

Clunton and Clunbury,

Clungunford and Clun,
Are the quietest places
Under the sun.

Was Houseman right? Maybe he was but Clunbury and the whole of the Clun Valley are much more than the quietest places under the sun. This area is a community, a vibrant, active community that looks after its own and its visitors too. When we moved here in September 2007 the villagers of Clunbury welcomed us with open arms - for that I can't thank them enough.

I didn't know where Clunbury was so I asked my friend Simon. He gave me directions but before he did he said 'you'll love it there.'

He was right.

Nestled in the valley between Craven Arms and Clun lies the ancient village of Clunbury. My Brigadoon I call it because other than a sign post on the Clun road, you really wouldn't know it was there.




Protected for centuries on one side by it's beautiful Norman Church








And on the other side of the village for eons by the fairy ring on the stunning Clunbury Hill.





Running through the far end of the village is the River Clun. Most of the time she trickles providing a comfortable haven for wildlife but within a matter of days she can go from little more than a stream to almost a raging torrent. Untamed but for those who have lived on its banks for years, she is predictable and like our church and our hill, her moods are part of our lives.






River Clun at peace.

And when she's not.

So besides being an incredibly beautiful place to live and the people are lovely, why do I find Clunbury so special?

It's magical, special but more importantly for me, it's healing and in the sixteen months we've been here Clunbury has certainly worked its magic.

Aren't I lucky?

Clunbury 'High Street' at lunchtime. The only sounds I heard were the children playing in the school playground, the breeze blowing through the trees and the birds singing.