Happy in Hay

"Are you from Hay? I thought so by the way you're smiling."
The speaker was a Red Cross volunteer called Omar, standing out in the miserable weather to tell passers by about his organisation: "A hundred and forty years old this year. I don't look a hundred and forty, do I?"

He was quite right about the smiling. Hay people do tend to smile more than people who live in bigger towns. Maybe it's because Hay is a fairly stress-free environment. We do tend to nod hello to complete strangers in the street, too, which is how I ended up talking to him. You can't buy that sort of relaxed attitude, the feeling of being in a real community where everyone knows everyone else, at least by sight, without crossing the line into nosiness. No twitching of lace curtains here, but we are likely to go over to ask if we can help.

I saw Joyce today. She has a dentist's appointment next Thursday - and dentist's appointments are like gold; you grab them when you can get them. So I'm hosting Stitch n Bitch next week - to which end, I now have a large bag of wool for anyone who wants to knit squares for knee rugs for the pensioners of Presteigne. Joyce has finished one with a narrow border and almost has enough squares for a second.