We come off our main road onto our village road and there is a break in the properties after the 13th home. 4 of the houses are like invisible people, can barely say hello if they are in the garden when we walk past.
The rest are friendly, we have the occasional get together and we all know we are there for one another if needed. During Covid we looked out for each other, I give my puzzle pages in the newspaper to the woman next door and my DH cuts their hedge. They give us eggs.
Isn’t that how life is supposed to be?
Craig and Lindsay Foreman end their hunger strike in prison in Iran.




