9 February 2004

Life in a New Small Town

Life here seems to pretty much be focused on the land.  Life in East Anglia, the area where Hadleigh is situated has been cut off from the rest of the UK until recent times by thick forest on one side and the North Sea on the other.

Each Friday the East Anglian Times is full of happenings that make us want to go everywhere all at the same time.  The first weekend in the house we went to the annual Hadleigh Deanery Fair.  Sabrina and Arthur, our new neighbors invited us to meet up around 1:30 (13:30 in British time) to walk together down to the center of town.

Three children, all Cat’s age, along with Tess the black retriever and us four adults quickly walked the few blocks to the ancient church.  There was a line of adults and kids, with dogs on leashes waiting to pay their 50 pence to enter the Deanery Garden.  The Deanery is where the minister (vicar) of the church lives.

Behind the old half-timber Tudor-styled building was a huge garden that looked more like a park.  Small tables for games and yard sale type items for sale were scattered around the open areas of the garden.  Our first stop was the book sale.  We were still enchanted with the idea that we could buy books in English so cheaply after living in France.

We thoroughly examined the plants at the plant sale table, and the brick-a-brac at the brick-a-brac table.  Cat ran off to toss beanbags at bottles for a tiny prize.  Arthur took Tess to enter her in the dog contest and Sabrina headed over to the booth that had a sign saying “For men only” with a duvet cover clothes pinned to the awning (the duvet was all crumpled on the ground waiting for the next man to try to quickly fit it into the cover).

At one point Jay looked up at me in total amazement.  He said, “I just love this.”  Then he explained that the whole idea of a small town fair, which wasn’t filled up with bodies so you couldn’t walk was his idea of heaven.  He loved the feeling of excitement that came from something so simple as homemade games and a tent for afternoon tea at 50 pence a cup (in real china).

Promptly at 3:00 (15:00) we all walked down the hill and past the trees to an open area with a rope forming a huge ring.  Along marched Tess the dog, filled with great anxiety.  She was a young dog who had never been to such a fair, and was a little nervous about what would happen next.

The local veterinarian stood in the middle of the ring and asked the first category of dogs to enter.  All of the little dogs came forward.  After the best received a bag of dog treats, next came the prettiest dog.  This was Tess’s category.

Although I loved Tess already, after all she is the mirror image of our US dog Loretta who now lives in Marietta, I know that marketing is everything.  Greta, the miniature wiener dog wearing the pink feather boa was destined to win.  Sabrina’s daughter was not discouraged.

After a couple of more categories the vet announced there would be one more judging for “The Best Dog” in Hadleigh.  Out marched Cat alongside Sabrina’s girl (they said they had to go together for moral support).  Tess walked around the ring with an air of pride, holding her head up high and obeying every command from our two little blond girls…just as the judge looked Tess’s way.

When the trophy cup was announced, Tess was the winner.  We all screamed and clapped and jumped up and down. 

As Jay and I walked back to Benton Street, carrying all the books we could manage in our cloth market bags we were quite pleased with what fate had given to us.  We’d left a town in France that was “home”, and in a few short days we had found a golden nugget…another “home”.  Life felt pretty darn good.  I am still eating my words about the Brits and how much I was sure I wouldn’t like them.