Today I post “Chat Walks” which is a short personal memoir. It is offered as a quick read to atone for my last two long “Bobby Shafto” posts.
Every summer we visited my maternal grandparents who lived in a small village south of London. Probably to get us out of the house, my grandmother frequently insisted that we accompany my Grandfather on his daily walk. This consisted of a ramble around the village green taken at a slow pace for he stopped to greet everyone we encountered. He was on first name basis with them all. Each exchange, true to the English, began with the weather and went on to hold his attention for several minutes. I named his walks his “Chat Walks.” The name stuck! Soon my grandmother took to rising from the breakfast table with the words, “Jimmy, time for your Chat Walk, take the grandchildren!”
jstansfeld 
Something in this reminds me of a more sociable time when people engaged with each other naturally. The modern age has created bubbles of isolation don’t you think?
Thank you for your visit and for taking the time to comment. I agree with you and commend your phase ” bubbles of isolation”.It was a time when children played in the street and neighbors talked over the fence. However some neighborliness linger on. My brother lives in Oxford and once a year he and his neighbors get together and obtain permission to close their street so that they can hold a party on it. They have games, food, a pudding contest etc. That’s this millennium so it is still possible. All it needs is a sociable enterprising leader like my brother – perhaps he inherits it from his grandfather!.
What a lovely memory, so beautifully described. Hugs for you, Jane xxx soft ones ❤
It may have been short but highly visual. In that my ancestors came from England I’ve searched the internet pictures to look at places where they probably were familiar with. But much has changed since the early 1800’s when they migrated so if they were alive today they probably wouldn’t recognize much of their old chat walks. 🙂
Yes, much is changed. My memories are of a post war village of the late forties / early fifties. When I last indulged in some nostalgia the village green was still there but my grandparent’s lovely house was now an old people’s home and the gardens had sprouted more houses. The address was right but not much else!
You paint a picture of a quaint little village and an idyllic lifestyle, Jane.
Reminds me of the books I read back in the early 1960s – all hand-me-downs from my neighbours (British military families).
Please keep this series going. I can do with some escapism.
Cheers!
Eric
Well thank you for this encouragement, there is more where it came from . I think that the idealism may be because this is seen thorough the eyes of a pampered privileged child,