Margot tries the good life: becoming the editor of the village news
PUBLISHED: 12:18 18 June 2015 | UPDATED: 12:18 18 June 2015
Having become editor of the village news, Margot hopes residents will be bowled over by her next issue
With June’s arrival, our village is awash with leisurely weekends spent at fetes, a produce show or two and the annual village barbecue. Never one to shy away from a social occasion, dear Reader, you will be pleased to hear that I plan on attending them all, and with plenty of the usual Margot gusto too.
Having been officially sworn in as editor of the village news, I feel an overwhelming compunction to make sure that I have every angle of village life covered. Always on the lookout for something interesting to jot down, I turned to our very own parish noticeboard. Oh dear Reader, the notices never fail to amuse me. A plethora of items wanted, items on sale and items that probably should be heading towards the nearest skip! Not to mention complaints about the noise of rook nests, footpath violations and the odd moan about something unsightly spied in the village. Tuning into the Sunday morning omnibus, I am always left wondering if The Archers’ writing team have planted a spy amongst us.
This month, however, amidst the usual snippets, was a bold sign newly appointed in a much sought after spot on the busy noticeboard. ‘Cricketers wanted’, it read. Even Jerry, who takes little notice of what’s on, was interested at that point. A local cricket team was news to us. Whilst Jerry extolled the virtues of this ‘fine sport’ to Poppy and Primrose, reminiscing on a theme of the classic sound of leather on willow, I’m afraid I was too busy imagining dashing young men in cricket whites, afternoons in the sun reading a good book whilst sipping an obligatory summer Pimms, followed by the splendid post match tea, dear Reader. It was at that moment as I drifted back towards Jerry and his take on the finer points of centuries, and hitting a six that a nagging memory came to mind of a 20:20 match that he insisted we attend some years before.
It has to be said that my cricket knowledge was (and still is) seriously limited, and I think I managed to invent a new kind of torture for my dear brother-in-law that day by asking far too many questions and wondering when the whole thing would end so we could decamp to the nearest pub.
Overs, cover drives and out for a duck are still terms I’m not quite familiar with - and it is safe to say that the whole cricket experience was certainly not the idyllic afternoon that I had dreamed of. Keen not to repeat the experience, I steered Jerry firmly away from the board. Jerry’s passion for cricket is totally lost on me!
Still, the noticeboard did offer up another choice item between the WI’s calls to action and a reminder of the annual churchyard tidying morning - an afternoon at Mottisfont in the presence of Primrose’s literary heroine of the moment, Lauren Child. With Primrose and Poppy intent on discussing the merits of Charlie and Lola versus Clarice Bean, I could see that poor Jerry was having one of my cricket ‘moments’. The plummy tones of Henry Blofeld and his commentary of the no36 bus along the Harleyford Road clearly no match for storybook wolves and pink milk as far as the girls were concerned. Perhaps Jerry should pop his own notice up on the board? ‘Wanted: Wife and children with an appreciation of all things cricket’! Wonder if he’d get any takers, dear Reader?
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