Happy memories from 11 years ago! I thought you would enjoy a photo to bring this book excerpt to life!
Saturday 21st July 2007
I have moved from a community where I smiled at the hairdresser – had to start dashing past her shop when we changed our allegiances – knew the greengrocer and the newsagent, where the coffee shop knew my husband’s order before he spoke it. And yet all these people didn’t really know us. They knew our faces. We were part of their fabric. Occasionally in crisis they contacted us, but in the main we were all anonymous to one another. We could dip in and out of society as we chose. We could pretend to ourselves that we were there for everyone, but in reality had only space for so many friends. We were friendly with everyone but not everyone was our friend.
It is not the same in the village. We are not anonymous. Everything we do has an effect. So today I find myself covered in green face-paint, wearing a green ball gown and a long red wig. I don’t do fancy dress. Ever. I think it comes from a fear of being laughed at, not with. An insecurity in myself that really doesn’t want to be the centre of attention. So I’m not sure why I ever agreed to dress as Princess Fiona from Shrek, and to spend the whole day dressed that way in front of my new potential friends. And also in front of people who already don’t like the vicar, or his wife. I’ve been saddened to find that there are people here who, although we’ve never spoken to them, don’t like us. They don’t know us, but they know that they don’t like the church. And therefore by extension they don’t like us. We’ve heard some of their reasons. Vicars not visiting in times of sickness, weddings refused, not available for funerals, always being asked for money for the roof. It wasn’t us, but they have taken it personally. So now I am aware that our actions too will reflect on the church. And ultimately therefore on to God. I don’t really want to give them any more ammunition. 
But I’m not being totally honest when I say I don’t know why I am doing this. I know that I agreed because James is very persuasive. He loves people, he loves fun, he loves getting stuck in, being helpful. Being around him can be a bit like being around the party. Everywhere he goes people engage, laugh, trust and reveal themselves. Today is the village Fun Day, and James has persuaded us to join him at the centre of it. We’ve only been here two months but have got stuck in to represent the church at this village fundraising event.

The day is fine and bright. All our fears for a washout are unrealised. A wonderful, exhausting day is had by all. The cake stall serves hundreds of cream teas, the stands all do a brisk trade, we enjoy watching the police dogs in the central ring. I revel in this new community, where everyone knows everyone, where we all matter to each other, to a greater or lesser degree. It seems that all my private worries for ridicule and hostility have been unfounded.

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