The Cranleigh Column

 

 

The Rhythm of Village Life

First Addition

 

Dear Reader,

This week, I have found myself wandering gently through the rhythm of our village. There is

something rather comforting about watching a place go about its ordinary business. Shop

doors opening, people greeting one another by their first names. The little bell above the door chiming as someone steps inside.

I spent some time at a sweet little shop called ‘Peach’ , sitting outside in the sun, enjoying a

kind sort of gossip—the type that makes you smile. We came away with some beautiful gifts for loved ones, including a beautiful candlestick.

Village Notes

I feel rather grateful about ‘Cranleigh Arts Centre’. How many villages do you know that have a cinema, art exhibition, classes, and performances under one roof? It is a delight.

There is always something quietly happening. The clink of tea cups, gentle conversation, someone admiring the artwork. It reminded me that the village is not just shops, roads, and buildings. It’s a community.

The quiet observer

Little Village Gossip

The queue outside Marks & Spencer stretched out through the doors this Saturday morning,

arms full of flowers and chocolate, ready for Mother’s Day (or Mothering Sunday, should I add!). It made me smile.Though I did quietly think perhaps the loveliest gestures are the ones we give out throughout the year.

I’ve noticed the new Cromwells Brasserie. A cheerful hum outside as the sun came out for them. It all felt rather comforting.

Their tables were full and coming to life. I had a wonderful conversation with two visitors enjoying their meal in the corner after coming all the way from Cheam to sample their wares.

It was rather lovely to know that many of their ingredients are locally sourced. In times like these, seeing small businesses support one another feels particularly important.

Until next time… Maybe I will write about you.

The Tea Rose

Second Addition in the village of Cranleigh

 

The Warmth That Lingers

Dear Reader

While nestled comfortably in the upstairs relaxation room of our local spa, I was fortunate to

witness a kind of warmth that lingers, a gentle kindness, free herbal tea, a place to relax and

unwind post-treatment, a space to breathe. How utterly idyllic!

One cannot merely pass through the high street without feeling the gentle pull towards the

delicate promise of Joanna’s Boutique Tearoom. It is not just a place to visit; it is a place to

enter, stepping quietly out of the present and into something far more considered.

I paused at the doorway, taking in the details: the soft pink tones, the shimmering chandeliers,

the meticulous placement of teacups, each seemingly with its own story to tell.

Inside, there is a rhythm, not rushed, not loud. A soft hum of conversation, the gentle

clinking of teaspoons against china. It encourages you to slow down, even if just for a moment.

There is something almost poetic about watching people in a tea room. It brings joy!

Ah, dear Reader,

It seems our quiet corners are not entirely untouched by a bit of unrest! Word has traveled,

as it always does, that the local bank was broken into. There is always a moment when such

things happen—a pause, a slight tightening in the chest as people say, “Here? Really… here?”

We like to believe our village sits just outside the reach of such things. A lady quietly asked in

a nearby shop, “Where do we go now then?” Not dramatic or loud, just inconvenient in a waythat feels bigger than it sounds. Because, dear reader, for many in our village, the bank is not

just a place for money. It’s routine, familiar a reason to step out, exchange a few words, to be part of things.

And when it closes, even for a short while, one notices the gap almost immediately. Of course,

the younger ones will say, “Just use your iPhone,” but not everyone lives their life through a screen.

So while the rest of the village carries on, as we do, there is a small ripple beneath it all a quiet wondering, a slight inconvenience, and perhaps a gentle reminder that even the most ordinary places are, in truth, rather important!

Until next week, dear reader, do keep an ear open and you a little closer!

The Tea Rose  Reviews

 

What a week it has been a week of wandering, of warm welcomes, of little moments that

quietly remind us of how fortunate we are to have such places on our doorstep.

Shall we begin?

Joanna’s Tearoom: A pocket of calm, a reminder of Regency at its best.

The BrickCafe: Wishing it was more local to Cranleigh but so perfectly run.

Cromwell’s Brasserie: A step back in time! It’s new, it’s charming indeed!

My reviews are based on customer care, taste, and positioning.

My blogs are free; my services are available.

Visit www.TheTeaRose.com

A Quiet Observer! xx

If you know me—keep the secret!

The Cranleigh Column – Column 3

 

Dear Reader,

This week began with a small mishap…

Which somehow turned into a comedy scene.

One’s keys left on the counter of ‘Cook’ shop were handed to someone else!

Not lost nor stolen… just given away by accident.

So there we were running up the street, half laughing, half panic…

Half wondering how this always happens to me!

Chasing someone who had absolutely no idea they had my keys in their bag!

Keys recovered, the lady was shocked… Cook staff relieved… I could go home safely!!

On Sunday I found myself lying still for a beautiful soundbath, have you ever had one?

A room full of people doing their best to relax after a busy week.

It was quite a task to slow the mind down but yet by the end of the session we all felt brand new… a true healing experience.

HOT Yoga Tribe… you have alot to offer the Village…

Hot off the Press!

There is something brewing in the Village!

HOT YOGA TRIBE are expanding!

Firstly, a new class is coming out in May, it’s called ‘HOT TRAMP’

A high energy workout, full of mini trampolines, fast pace, lymphatic support class.

It’s very ‘on trend’ I feel it will be very popular!

Quite the opposite from laying down relaxing to sound baths on a Sunday.

There is more….

They are expanding their skills… raising the bar!

Welcoming a new skin and body wellness clinic.

‘Tribe Skin Wellness’ is coming soon.

A holistic wellness clinic that will soothe the soul after bouncing on those mini trampolines!

Bravo to you, we cannot wait to see it.

I do hope you are enjoying the writing columns?

I do it as a hobby, no cloak + dagger as someone said online to me… I did laugh.

It’s all just for fun.

Enjoy… until next week,

The Tea Rose

The Cranleigh Column

April Edition

My dear readers,

April has passed in its usual steady way, and when I look back on it, there has been a real mix of things happening in the village. Easter sitting quietly alongside everyday life, and everything else continuing as it always does.

I spent some time in St Nicholas Church over Easter. People coming in quietly, sitting for a while, lighting candles, or just taking a moment. No pressure to do anything, just space to be there.

It is one of the few places where nothing is expected of you, and I think that is why people keep returning.

When you step back outside, the village feels a little more settled. Not perfect, but calmer in how people move around each other. There is more stopping, more small conversations, more noticing.

But at the same time, the reality of things has been very present this month.

The roadworks and potholes are not going unnoticed. They are frustrating, they slow everything down, and they make simple journeys feel more complicated than they should be. It is the sort of thing everyone is talking about, because it affects all of us trying to get from one place to another.

It breaks the flow of the village, and you feel that.

The school holidays have brought a different energy though. More children around, more families out, people taking advantage of the time. There has been more movement, more noise, but in a good way.

I have noticed more people walking. Dogs being walked a little longer, children running ahead, people stopping for a coffee or just taking their time. It feels less rushed.

And that has been something I have thought about a lot this month.

How much we rush everything.

I wrote recently about how life changes without you really noticing. One minute you are out all the time, filling every moment, and the next you are quite happy with a cup of tea and an early night. It sounds simple, but it is actually a big shift.

And I think April has shown a bit of that.

People slowing down, whether by choice or not.

The library has been quietly busy as well. It is one of those places that keeps going without needing attention. People browsing, children picking books, sitting and reading. It offers something steady, something that does not change too much.

We need places like that.

Earlier in the month, the Repair Café had been open. I stopped and watched for a while. People bringing in things that had stopped working, and others taking the time to fix them.

No rush, no fuss.

Just people helping.

It made me think about how quickly we throw things away now. Not just objects, but time, energy, even parts of ourselves when they do not feel right. And yet here, things were given a bit more attention, a bit more patience.

It felt important.

Easter would not be Easter without the bakery. The hot cross buns this time of year were exactly what you expect. Soft, warm, properly spiced. The kind you end up having more than one of without thinking about it too much.

Standing in the queue, chatting, waiting your turn, it is part of the whole thing.

I also had a delivery from Local Loaves during the month. A hot sourdough brought straight to my door. Still warm when I picked it up. I cut into it straight away, stood in the kitchen with butter melting into it and a cup of tea beside me.

It was one of those moments where everything else could wait.

And that links to something else I have been thinking about.

Do we actually let ourselves stop.

Or are we always thinking about the next thing.

I see it in myself sometimes. Doing one thing but already thinking about what comes next. Not really being where I am.

And yet the moments that stay with me are always the simple ones. A walk, a conversation, a piece of bread, a quiet sit somewhere.

There has also been talk building about the trampoline sessions at Hot Yoga. They have not started yet, but people are curious. You hear it in passing, people wondering if they will try it.

It is something new to look forward to, without everything else having to change.

And that feels like a good balance.

And as for me, I have been doing what I always do. Walking through the village, noticing things as they happen. The small conversations, the people helping each other, the everyday moments that are easy to miss.

I have always said, I am not here to make noise. I am not here to push anything.

The Tea Rose is just a quiet observer.

A way of noticing what is already here and putting it into words.

A bit of village life, written as it is.

So as April comes to a close, I hope you found something in it. Whether it was time in the church, a walk during the holidays, a visit to the library, something fixed instead of thrown away, or just a quiet moment at home.

Or even just noticing that you are not the same as you were a few years ago, and being alright with that.

Because that seems to be part of it as well.

Yours,

The Tea Rose

 

The Cranleigh Column Edition Five
By The Tea Rose

A small unmasking..

It seems the veil has slipped, just a little.

Lawrence, yes that Lawrence, the gentleman with the Fender and a very English way about him, quietly let me know that he had worked it out some time ago. He calls himself neuro-spicy, which I rather enjoyed, and I had to laugh when he said it. There was no big reveal, no awkward moment, just a quiet understanding between two people who notice more than they say.

And there I was, thinking I had been entirely unnoticed.

It made me stop and think. Not in a dramatic way, just in a quiet, honest way. Because for a while now I have felt a little unsure. Not hidden exactly, but perhaps questioned. A touch of cloak and dagger from the sidelines. The sort of thing that makes you wonder whether writing something kind, something supportive, something simply nice, is somehow seen as something else.

So I have been asking myself a question this week.

Do I stop?

Or do I carry on?

Do I step back because a few might misunderstand, or do I continue because many have enjoyed the letters and even missed them?

Because that is all this has ever been. Letters. Observations. A gentle nod to people who are trying their best.

There has never been a hidden agenda. I run small businesses myself, three in fact, and I know how much it means when someone says something kind about what you are building. When someone shares your name or tells a friend. That is how small businesses survive.

It does make me feel a little sad that kindness can sometimes be questioned more than criticism. That supporting someone can be seen as suspicious rather than simply thoughtful.

So for now, I will continue. Quietly, as I always have.

On eggs, of all things

You may smile at this, but I have become known for my eggs. My clients certainly know how many I get through in a week.

But I do care where they come from.

Free range is not always what people think it is. It is not always chickens wandering freely in open fields. Sometimes it still means large barns and limited outdoor access. It is not always as simple as the label suggests.

But there are places doing it properly.

Lee House Farm!

Their chickens live freely and calmly, as they should. And the eggs taste exactly how you would expect when something has been done properly.

Every Thursday, I collect mine from the Cranleigh market, which has been part of village life for generations. There is something reassuring about it still being there, still turning up, still offering something real.

It may seem like a small thing, but I have come to realise that small things are where change begins.

If one person switches their eggs, that is something.
If two people do, that is something more.

And if that is all I ever influence, I will take it.

And yes, Lawrence has now been sent the egg code guide. We are educating one Fender player at a time.

A village that shows up

There was a dog show last week, held at Knowle Park, and what a place it continues to be.

For those who have not wandered through recently, it is one of those rare spaces that does everything without feeling like it is trying too hard. Park runs, dog shows, outdoor theatre, summer events. It all seems to happen there, and somehow it all fits.

It is not vast, and it is not grand in the way large estates are.

But it works.

Families gather. Dogs parade proudly. People talk to one another without rushing off. There is a rhythm to it that feels grounded.

And I find myself rather taken by that.

Because in a time where everything feels larger, faster, and louder, here is a space that simply continues, quietly supporting both people and wildlife.

It is, in its own way, quite remarkable.

After Easter, and a thought

Easter has passed us by again, gently.

We spoke of it in the last column, and I do hope you found a moment within it, however small.

This week, though, I find myself thinking less about the season and more about the people within it. About community. About whether we truly support one another, or whether we sometimes hold back.

So I will leave you with this.

Do we find it easy to lift others up?

Or have we quietly become a little cautious of doing so?

I would very much like to know.

Until next time,

The Tea Rose 🌹