Hey love, let me tell you about my little countryside saga. Ive basically become the village hermit I dont visit anyone, I dont invite anyone over, I keep my harvest and my tools to myself, and the locals think Im bonkers.
It all started when I slipped into semiretirement. I was fed up with the hustle of London and craved quiet, just me and the fields, growing veg, fruit and berries, and sipping herbal tea sweetened with fresh honey. So, before I officially retired, I bought a cottage on the edge of a small Cotswold hamlet called Brookfield.
In spring I planted a riot of flowers, bought a few garden gnomes, a cheeky squirrel statue and tiny lanterns. The neighbours kept stealing glances at my plot. One sunny morning, Maggie Clarke, who lives next door, couldnt hold back any longer. While I was setting out seedlings, she popped over.
She whined that shed forgotten to sow any petunias and hinted I should share some with her. I mean, why on earth would I give my seedlings to a stranger? Petunias are finicky, I only had ten, and they need a gentle hand. I pretended not to get her drift.
About ten days later I spotted Eleanor, another neighbour, chatting over the fence with a lady who kept staring my way. I got the feeling they were gossiping about me.
Then, on a blistering summer afternoon, I was pruning my apple tree when a voice startled me. A woman named Blythe stood at the garden gate, shouting for me. She said shed walked past my house and saw ripe fruit hanging on the trees. She hadnt tasted any herself. My eyes went wide who just wanders onto someones garden and asks for fruit? I barely eat the apples myself; I keep them for my daughter.
Later, I was in the local shop buying sweets. Behind me, a woman from the next lane asked if the treats were for a tea party and if Id invite her over. What a thing! Why does she care what Im buying, and why would I host a complete stranger who isnt a friend, relative or colleague?
Just last week, Mrs. Patel saw me digging with a small spade and asked what Id bought, when and where. It made me feel I had to give a polite answer even though I didnt want to.
Back in the city you never get hounded with nosy questions, invitations to pop over, or people borrowing your garden tools. One neighbour confided that most folks around here think Im a bit odd, and thats probably true.
Honestly, I bought this place for privacy, not to make pals with the village ladies or get tangled in gossip. If thats what they think, let them mind their own business and stay out of my garden and my peace of mind.
