Well, what a week!! A week in which I've been reflecting on what it is to be a neighbour.
We've decided to call the spangle 'Molly'. My apologies to anyone out there called, or related to a Molly, but the name really suits her. At the Shrewsbury Folk Festival last year we met some Molly Dancers called 'Black Dyke Molly'. They were very friendly camping neighbours who dressed in black with flashes of white, which is exactly how the spangle's coat looks. So there we are, she's called Molly.
At the weekend my next door neighbour and I built a run for her. Our garden is insecure due to upcoming building work, so she now has a safe, 70 square metre area big enough for a horse!
It was a pleasure to work with my neighbour. He is a multi talented man who has a tool and an idea for everything. Without his help, I'm not sure I could have built it so quickly and robustly, if at all. When he came round for sunday dinner, it put me in mind of how communities used to be - neighbours helping neighbours and accepting nothing more as payment than a place at table and the fellowship that comes from that. We regularly hear on the news the phrase 'close knit communities'. I've doubted for some time if, with the rise of television, commuting, cheap supermarket alcohol and dwindling church attendances, such things exist outside of soap operas. I think if I have a new year resolution, it has to be to pay more attention to the needs of my neighbours.