At our usual Sunday cuppa in the Village Hall today, one of our oldest residents told me how the Hall came into being when the former Wold Newton schoolroom and schoolhouse fell into disuse in the 1970s.

Listening to the memories, the experience, the bewilderment of the position we are in and the hope that we can prevail was such a pleasure, and such a privilege. We see each other during the week - out walking, out cycling, passing the time of day when we do. 

But the hall is the place where we talk, and we listen. We share a coffee, a smile and a story, have a good laugh and that only happens because we have a space where we can do that. Yes, we might meet in our own or other houses, but the natural and spontaneous nature of a Village Hall is that we are there, then, present and prescient. 

Banners got made today, lots of people coming to colour, to cut, to laminate and to drink tea. We passed 500 signatures today. The tearoom volunteers were run off their feet selling the most amazing array of cakes. The sun shone, the cows mooed and hundreds of people walked, rode, cycled and visited. 

Thank you