A parochial elegy
Cue inspiring music.
Once in a generation a hero comes to your village. Something to give a hint of the Wild West (Burton Road) or the beauty of Lapwing’s Fusion Deli to Wilmslow Road.
It roars to Axons, YES we have Artisan Meats, Wafts to The Hamlet in a Wallace & Gromit stylee “Smell My Cheese” (actually I think that was Alan Partridge) and challenges Evans to a game of Fresh Grouse; this usurper with a sans serif font on its door.
This is something to erase the memory of Carphone Warehouse’s feeble pavement stalking, fag smokingly, indifferent staff.
This is a sign to the volunteers at our many charity shops that Sausage Barms with real meat are on the menu. For the Estate Agents in the village now charity shopping since the downturn good news. It is not just Tesco and Whitbreads that can afford the rent.
M&S, Co-Op, Subway, Costa are you watching? Bond, Jo Padmore, No. 4, Moretons you have a new family member.
In our house, excitement could not have been higher had Didsbury Son arranged to get Pikachu round for Christmas or 3-4 venti coffees with cake replaced 5 a day as a health requirement… My very own gentrified food shop with an industrial fridge in the back, in my village.
Didsbury Village Farm Shop, we welcome you to our humble village to share your purple kale, nutmeg laced £3 custards and stuffed Turkey crowns…
Let the price war hopefully commence.