ANOTHER Picturesque Cotswold Village?

I love the back-to-basics lifestyle that goes along with village life – buying a loaf of bread from wheat that has been milled in the same spot; ordering smoked trout for lunch at a trout farm where it’s been bred; eating home-made ice cream from a dairy farm; snacking on blackberries and apples that grow along the walking paths; gathering fresh eggs from the chicken coop; having milk delivered to our door; getting apples, jam or eggs from roadside stands (with honesty boxes or a sign that says ‘help yourself’); and, yes, even looking after sheep that may one day be on the menu at the local pub.

It’s hard to explain the appeal, but it strikes me as a less alienating way of life – more connected to the land, animals, plants, and people; less distracted by things that don’t matter. The fact that houses in UK villages have names instead of numbers feels like a metaphor for the anonymity that accompanies moving away from that type of life.

We’ve spent most days walking from Cotswold village to Cotswold village, some new to us, but also revisiting a few old favourites. It’s really hard to get tired of them.

And, of course, we’re still enjoying quality time with Martha, Dylan and Jethro (the sheep and chickens too, but not quite the same level of quality). We found some brushes in the barn and gave the donkeys a brush. No idea if they wanted or needed it, but it made us happy and they didn’t seem to mind. Jethro continues to entertain us with his antics.