Common Intent

Say what you will about Christmas, it makes people much nicer. Framlingham was all a-bustle this morning, everyone moving around with purpose, striding from shop to shop, from shop to car, laden with bags and parcels and pagan greenery. And presumably because we all had a common purpose, we caught each other's eye, we smiled, we grinned, we shared an unspoken intent. Despite the controlled frenzy, the sense of urgency, folk seem more relaxed, more open and friendly. I love it, I really do. I wish it could always be thus.

Later I spent half an hour in the middle of a very muddy, slippery wood behind a farm, picking out a Christmas tree. I had tried to get one as usual at Fram Market on Tuesday, but they had all gone by the time I got there. I didn't dare wait until he returned on Saturday with reinforcements, so I put out a request on the community website: "Help! Can anyone tell me where to buy a Christmas tree?". And my friend Caroline rang me almost at once to tell me about friends down in Bruisyard who used to farm pigs but specialise in sheep, goats, and seasonal trees. Rupert was playing tennis with Patrick when I got there, but Sally gamely lead me up through the wood to the small plantation where they've been planting and selling for 8 years. "Sawn or dug up" she'd asked me on the phone, and I went for the former. But the tree I chose was a bit close to the ground so she decided to dig it up. "I expect you're an old hand at this," I remarked, but no, it was her first time. And after 10 minutes of thrusting the spade into the ground and trying to get the tree to move, she gave up. We agreed that Rupert would drop it off at my house later, and there it was when I returned from lunch. It's a marvellous thing, the Nextdoor website, with people down the road or in the next village recommending local tradesmen who don't charge a fortune. Thanks guys.