The Smallholding

It was my first jaunt on the bike yesterday, now that the weather is on my side. After an hour, I spun down onto the trail for the home straight, past the smallholding that overlooks the old railway line. In times past, it would have been a good vantage point for watching the coal wagons rumbling down the grade towards Fiskerton Junction, and before 1929 it would have observed the infrequent passenger trains that linked Mansfield and Newark at the pace of a snail.

For many years after the railway closed, the smallholding was occupied by a rather unkempt elderly couple who became well-known for their laissez-faire approach to, well, farming in general, I suppose, but primarily to their fowl. Hens, geese and ducks had the run of the place. They wandered everywhere - across the road, up the garden path, in through the open front door, and it was quite common to see them all sitting on the table through the front window. “Anything goes” appeared to be the motto. You couldn’t ride past without smiling.

When the old couple passed on, the building was soon snapped up and transformed into an attractive family home with a tidy garden. The only unusual feature now was the blow-up doll in a front bedroom window. I can only think that the new occupants got fed up quite quickly with the way people slowed down to peer in, as they had done for years beforehand. They thought they would give them something even more dramatic to attract their attention than a gaggle of geese.  

I thought it quite a humorous touch. Maybe the new owners were really saying “Back-off, we are no longer the local feature of amusement that you once knew.”

The doll disappeared a long time ago and there is now nothing unusual about the house at all. At least, I think that’s right. I actually forgot to look.