FRIENDS, NEIGHBOURS AND COUNTYMEN

These past sixteen years have been so eventful and chaotic, along the way I have met so many amazing people, that have become great friends and positive influences in my life. One of those friends (and her dad) helped me move to my dream job as a Sports Development Officer, leaving behind a County I'd lived in for 33 years to a County that I was unfamiliar with and knew no-one. It was there in Boston, Lincolnshire where my neighbours (both in their late 60's) were just that a normal neighbour, someone who would pop up and say hello, offer tea and cake and a general chit chat. Having been brought up with neighbours my parents didn't really speak to or vice versa this was a revelation and I liked it!

We shared our gardens, they had the vegetable patch and I had the lawn. It was a happy arrangement. Maurice would leave me vegetables on my doorstep and some days he would present me with fresh Mackerel (caught by his own hands/fishing rod), or a fillet of Pigeon, shot by himself. If there was offer of cake I knew that Janet had that week won cake (or even a ham hock) at Bingo. Janet was great too, she taught me how to apply sun cream on my back without the aid of someone else's hands. Ten denier tights soaked in a small tub of sun cream works like a dream! Their Jack Russell would survey his grounds every morning, then sit in the middle of the long lane waiting for visitors, or for Maurice to return.

My fondest memories are when I'd help Maurice in a rickety old boat, to pull the water weeds out of our stretch of the North Forty Foot Bank. He'd tell me about the two foot long pike/perch/ fish monster that swam up and down this part of the river. I never got to catch a glimpse of it, Maurice was like my Granddad, cheeky and a wind up merchant so it was possible it was one of his tall tales. He introduced me to Samphire one time when we'd all gone to the mud flats digging for worms. Of course I made him eat the stuff before I tried it - I'm not that gullible!

There was lots of wildlife where I lived, surrounded by farmers fields and as flat as a pancake for miles. I remember before I left Boston for my next adventure, walking to work one cold frosty morning I heard Geese above my head. As I looked up the noise grew louder and I noticed for as far I could see thousands (no exaggeration) of Geese, which were flying in formation, it was surely a wondrous sight to behold.

Lincolnshire has it's fair share of air bases and when the weather was just right I would often be found running outside to witness a Euro-fighter heading for the house, I'm sure they'd used the house as target practice. A Lancaster Bomber came over a few times whilst I lived there and so too did The Red Arrows, although not with the plumes of coloured smoke trailing behind.

Sadly Maurice died the same month my Grams died, but every time I see a feather in the garden I always stick it in the ground. According to Maurice this brought luck, but it reminds me of an older wiser friend/neighbour I once had. I still keep in touch with Janet through the good old Royal Mail, good neighbours are hard to come by. I felt quite blessed that Maurice and Janet brought about a change in my perception of how I believed neighbours were.

But it wasn't a new outlook on neighbours or a handful of good friends Boston brought to me, it would also introduce me to someone unexpected.

The next instalment of my Chronicle is here at 'Lifes Sliding Door Moment'

The final part to my story is, 'Brewer - Not the job title I expected!'