This particular little gem has been known to me for many years - on more than one occasion I have tried to open the door to see what's behind, but it just won't budge. Interestingly the orchard protected by this sturdy, well bolted door hasn't been built on yet, which has got to be a miracle. Around these parts the village in-fill development of half a dozen exclusive, en-suite & hot-tub, executive "homes" stacked up with just enough room for a wheelie bin between them, is a common phenomenon. Whilst looking to all intents and purposes to have dropped from outer space, these blots are often named after a village idiot, blacksmith or farmer from local history - we are blessed locally with, Willy's Close, Margaret's End and Walter's Field....... Lord save us. I know of many a village in which no two buildings share any architectural bond; roofs all of varying pitches in thatch, slate, pan tile or wriggly tin; walls of brick, stone, render or timber framing - in short, a soup of vernacular variety simmering and reducing for hundreds of years. In the middle of this - Betty's Mews !! Where once was a crumbling crew-yard of dilapidated farm sheds and rusty Dutch barns, now stand five massive identical, appallingly proportioned, thoughtlessly detailed, million pound dolls' houses, built so close together that it is not uncommon for Dominic to accidentally park his Porsche in Veronica's driveway - so to speak. MORE RANTING !
