Today, we said more goodbyes to dear friends... and this season is difficult for all that.
But Dorking will always be etched on our memories in its odd and, quirky fashion. Here is a photo of the local hardware store called Cummins where you can buy anything imaginable that belongs to a tool yard...
I've never seen so many odds and ends and assorted screws of all kinds...
but this sort of place endears itself in the imagination as we are now four days away from leaving. Thank you Dorking...
Nicholas
The Dorking Cockerel stands proudly at the roundabout heading into the High Street of our medieval market town. The Dorking is an actual, rare breed of poultry, once prized by royal families centuries ago for the succulence of its meat and revered for the oddity of its 5-toes, now it is mostly raised for its beautiful feathers and colouring in competitions....Yes, this huge metal sculpture stands as the gateway to our community...and, well, you can imagine how conversations unfold, just turn right at the ****! Brits love this kind of opportunity...
This morning it is nobler than ever, dressed for the Jubilee, and at Easter gigantic coloured eggs appear beneath its tail feathers.
Things like this are part and parcel of a life in England, an off the wall humour, particular pride in things perhaps not valued at first glance, and a mad sort of expression that has become cherished by me.
Thank you England, for teaching me about eccentricity and revelry. I shall endeavour to take some of what I have learned with me across the pond.
Judy
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