I have had another run of loads of things happening in daily life, hardly any time to get on with hobbies, no time to blog and then a thing that the village has been waiting for has happened, the pub is closing again.
Out here people pass through and admire, traffic crawls through with camera lenses thrust out of half dropped windows, cyclists and walkers rest for a few minutes before moving on to the next place on the route. For them the pub is a sandwich stop, for the village it's a real place for gathering. It's the place you see your friends when the strangers have walked and cycled away, it's the place for meetings, for shows, for competitions and commerce and business and news of local things. It's a place to rest, be happy and to feel part of something even though we are as far away from something as it is possible to be.
Here in the Arse End of Nowhere the pub is a place where we remember that we have each other, so we walk there to see who might be in.
We will probably do more with invitations for and from friends at weekends.
All of these social things will do, but it isn't as good as hearing the door and looking to see who has come in and wondering what stories they have to tell
We are going to miss the pub, but we know that it will once again be a temporary closure, lets hope time flies until the doors open again.
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