Keeping it real in Ringmer

It's important not to lose touch with reality. At least, that's what Rupert the cat told me last week. We were chatting on our way back from the vet, where he’d been treated for fight-related injuries. Mind you, I understand that some people may not define 'important' and 'reality' in the same way as I do. Back when I worked for a big telecommunications company, I was convinced that any presentation I produced could be given a title from a country music song. When I needed an off-beat starting point, I'd look to Nashville for inspiration. "Flushed from the bathroom of your heart" was a particular triumph. Shortly after I implemented this major lyrical innovation, my job disappeared. I reckon someone stole my idea and then covered up the evidence. Crazy? That's exactly what Patsy Cline said.

Anyway, these days I'm keeping both feet firmly on the ground... and living in Ringmer is one of the ways I do this. It's certainly a dramatic contrast from my previous home. Before I moved here I lived in a West Sussex town with many tourists and almost enough gift shops to house them all on a rainy Saturday. A little like Lewes, some might say. I couldn't possibly comment.

We even had a 'lifestyle' shop that sold an impractical and unlikely combination of kitchen equipment, cosmetics, stationery, imported photo frames and expensive toys. Plus, of course, coffee and scented candles. Secretly I loved it.

In fact, I could have enjoyed afternoon tea in a different place every day for a month without having the same type of cake twice. That's how many coffee bars and tea shops there were. Budgetary constraints kept my blood-sugar levels stable, although I was tempted on several occasions.

Fortunately, the reality of Ringmer has saved me from myself... and from any similar temptation. There's only one bakery. You see, no-one would raise an eyebrow if I walked into a pub and the barman said "your usual, Mark?" before pouring a pint of Harveys. It's much less socially acceptable to be presented with a Belgian bun in a paper bag whenever you meet a baker. The embarrassment of being recognised as a frequent customer keeps my patisserie habit under control. You need to know when to walk away. Well, that's what Rupert says anyway. Or was it Kenny Rogers?

First published on Viva Lewes 3rd July 2014: http://www.vivalewes.com