Widmer End, Home

Widmer End – A Chiltern Hamlet in Buckinghamshire

The village of Widmer End has sat shoulder high among the Chiltern Hills since 1766. Safe from the ravages of the sea both by height and depth with the nearest coastal wave lying out of earshot from even the largest conch shell; this tiny rural hamlet perches some 600ft above sea level.
Widmer’s boastful height rather lends itself to some bitter winds that blow the cobwebs from the sleepy incumbents from all angles: a mere drop down the hill into the next village is said to find more clement weather of some two extra degrees, but Widmer’s residents fair better on a laundry day when there’s a wash load or three to dry.
That said, it would then appear strange to say that Widmer End offers shelter to some two thousand residents, but shelter us she does. Our nearest town lies only three miles to the South of us, a fact of which we remain blissfully unaware as all roads lead past Widmer and not through her.
We’re a friendly bunch of residents though, we nod and smile at each other as we make our way through the day, we choose not to gossip but know if someone is ailing and in need of a neighbourly chore or two. We’re on first name terms with our neighbouring village shop keepers and if we dare to miss a week on the [1]parade, our absence is duly noted and we simply must be ill or on our summer holiday, no other reason will do!
Why do the neighbouring village shops benefit from our patronage? Widmer has only one small grocery shop, a community hall, a church, a primary school and a pub – the pub dates back to circa 1854 and is sadly for sale more often than not – perhaps the roads that go past Widmer are not such good news for the landlords of our local inn.
Our vernacular is a mixture of new, old and downright charming chocolate box cottages steeped in history and character. Surrounded by farmland, Widmer proudly claims to harbour more farm animals than people and Widmer’s inhabitants are happy for it to remain that way. Cherry orchards, once a steady source of income for the Widmer farmers, still feature in the fields that surround the villages, the scent of cherry blossom in our gardens heralds the true start of spring for us.
Conversely the less welcome scent of manure in the fields signals the end of summer and the arrival of harvest as the farmers ‘muck-spread’ the fields before leaving them dormant for nearly two seasons.
The Red Kite is our special avian resident, once almost extinct from the United Kingdom, this most magnificent raptor was reintroduced to the Chiltern Hills in the late 1990’s, successful in their resurrection, the Kites now number in their hundreds and [2]wakes of around a dozen at a time swoop and dive gracefully across our rooftops searching for scraps and road kill. The “Red” of the kite is not often seen, indeed, for several years we wondered why they were so called until a chance hot air balloon flight over our area took us above their great altitude from whence we could spy upon their crimson wing tops!
Our countryside is beautiful and a great vantage point from which to observe the ever changing colours of nature’s unique palette. The Chiltern Way, is a vast network of paths that mesh back and forth through our village top and is immensely popular with ramblers and dog walkers from far and wide. There simply is nothing nicer than setting out on our favourite circuit route on a cooling summer’s eve to walk off the delights of dinner and to allow the breeze to whisk away the ravages of the day. Many a problem has been aired and resolved on that route and it begins less than twenty yards from our front door.
My husband Lee and I moved our family to Widmer End just five years ago with a view to perhaps staying for five years at most. In our tiny garden the other night, surrounded by our colourful summer planting we both surprised ourselves with the recollection of our self-imposed time limit. Moving hasn’t really crossed our minds since we unpacked the last box two days after moving in.

Janina Diggins
August 2010
[1] a somewhat strange name given to a row of shops but taken from the Victorian term to “parade up and down a thoroughfare”
[2] the collective noun for a group of Red Kites

Got To See The Funny Side

Opening note - We lost one of our chickens along the way a while back - we're pleased to say however, that the bird that flew the nest has made a welcome reappearance - we are as one once again. August was the month for connecting and reconnecting on a very grand scale I must say. DKM you know who you are sweetie :-)

So, here we are again, happy as can be, all good friends and jolly good company (as my Father used to trill at the top of his voice!) Yes he was such a happy soul when he wasn't making travel and accommodation arrangements for people at her Maj's pleasure.

September has snuck in on the sly side I feel - if we take the seasons on a month by month basis we are now of course in our Autumn, the leaves will be browning and falling to the ground to clog up the drains and stop the trains (wrong type of leaves on the track - ha ha), the smell of bonfires will permeate the air and the whizz bang of fireworks will soon be upon us and.................arghhhh stop!!!! Rewind!! What in the hell happened to Summer - does anyone remember Summer?

The hanging baskets I so lovingly and hopefully planted towards the end of May when Summer was still a strong possibility; are still blooming their ice cream cornet colours of candy pink and white, in, I must say, complete and brazen defiance of the fact that the sun hasn't raised it's head around these parts for nigh on ten weeks now!

Oh sure, sure, I did hear tell of a few nice days that apparently occurred whilst we were the other side of the Channel this Summer but it's just a malicious rumour I tell you and I never was one to pander to evil gossip :-)

My cats have taken to sitting around the house looking longingly out of the window whilst trying to ransack their little memories for a recall of how it once was when there were Summertimes. Even the most wanderlustful cat of them all, Kashmir, comes home by tea-time, when once there was a time that we didn't see her from solstice to solstice she's now a frequent visitor - why? Because she needs to sit by the radiator and get dry is why....and now there's a thing, radiator - in September - whatever next? I suspect all this lack of a season is some scientific con engineered by the Government in cahoots with the utility companies to get us to spend more money on heat and light, that'll be it!

Enough of the weather though, even if it is something that us English are taught to speak about at our Grandmother's knee, for I have far more important rantings to immortalise on this cyber note pad.

America - well Boston to be more precise - is flourishing in the heat of a late Summer on the back of a mid Summer and an early Summer (oops, the weather, there I go again!) I know this to be true for it is from the land of McDonalds, Chevrolets and no crash helmet rules that I have just returned. From a business perspective the trip was successful I am told, from a personal viewpoint it was great to catch up with my colourful friends and take a glimpse into their latest dilemma, which has to be of course the Presidential Elections.

They're all of a quandary these fickle folk - I hear tales of dyed in the wool Republicans considering Democracy at last in the hope of some young blood who may make the land of the free even freer. Conversely - no not the sneakers - there are folk with Democrat etched through their core like a stick of rock who are tentatively sniffing around Mr. McCain perhaps in the hope of a return to the old school. I have been reassured by many that Mr McCain's choice of running mate has not soured the campaign for him at all, amidst much derision at his second lady's ethical code comes a band of potential electorate who would, pre Ms Palin days not have even cast a stray hair in the direction of the Republican McCain. They are now positively itching to hear more of the Republican Soap Opera.

So perhaps the positive/negative spin trick has worked it's magic yet again. I do find myself wondering though, if the leader of this most powerful of nations is chosen on account of a high scandal/entertainment rating as opposed to his political beliefs and, let's not forget why we elect our Governments in the first place, to make our world a better place for us - or did we not forget, did we just stop believing in the impossible - frankly, I take the latter choice, Father Christmas has a higher chance of success. Yeah, yeah I'm a cynic and proud of it :-)

One last thought from Stateside - I will forever recall the derisive look given to me by the Cheesecake Factory Restaurant waitress where I dined alone, who, having convinced me to imbibe in a calorific dessert, turned her full mocking glare at me when I asked for a small portion - "Madam, this establishment does not serve small portions". Paced alongside the latest reports of obesity is this really a statement to declare with pride?

Checking out for now

Icklewolf

Family

This weekend we have had the wondrous and delightful experience of connecting with some long lost family members - out of respect for privacy I will say no more other than if they're reading this they know who they are and thank you so much :-)
In the run up to the meeting and beyond I have watched my husband go through angst, worry, tension, nervousness, joy, happiness, delight and sheer wonderousness at our discovery. We were but a small unit, now, we find ourselves swollen with our new family and the fit to burst feeling that we carry with this treasure chest that we have opened.
I am priviledged to have been at his side throughout and honoured that I am able to share in this new wealth.
Fate has dealt the cards to us again in our relationship, not for the first time and certainly not the last I feel, we have a winning hand - I didn't even need to raise the ante, the pot was already full when we came to the table. I'm not a gambler but I'll wager lady fate hasn't done with us yet.

I'm burning with a need to write it all down, to preserve the memory of these events of recent times, I fear I will forget the minutae which needs to be held fast in the book of no rubbing out - but I also know that others will remember what I may forget so our secrets are safe for a few generations to come.

Take away has to be that family is far too precious to take for granted - we can choose our friends but we need to be reminded perhaps that our family will remain rock solid where friends may falter.

Ramble on - Zeppelin

Starter for ten

A thought has occurred to me that if I enjoy writing perhaps I could make a point of doing something about it - I have decided to see how a blog will work out for me, moreover will others enjoy reading it or am I merely writing in cyberspace?
We are about to enter the August Bank Holiday, the last of the year save Christmas of course - we have so much to do and so little will to do it - our house is a WIP, I only learned what that meant some years ago at a work place from hell, but a WIP it is - do we love it like this? No, but we love each other more my man and I and we preserve our sanity and the need for mutual escapism in our refusal to carry on with our projects. It will be done for Christmas, (repeat in mantra form).
I learnt so much today at work, I learn every day but sometimes I learn at a level that I thought impossible and this makes me proud of my accomplishments - impossible why? Well, because I seem to have run out of room - there is nothing else I can add to my crammed brain without something falling onto the cutting room floor - for everything I learn I lose something once learned - perhaps no longer valuable but I want to be able to retain the lot, I am greedy for knowledge and memories alike.
I am going to one of the "better" restaurants for my lunch tomorrow, I shall sip the house champagne, better than any readily available brand, and reflect on how lucky
I am to be able to partake in such luxury.

Enough for a first blog, I wonder if anyone will ever share this?