Diary of a Parson’s Wife

Polly Zipperlen describes a time of adjustment following the family’s move to Sussex.

So, this is my first article written from the other side of the border. Having lived in Wales for the last 20 years, it has come as somewhat of a shock to be on the other side of Offa’s Dyke. The move came about following a series of unfortunate events involving Marcus’s parents and ill health, which led to a frantic job-seeking episode. Thankfully, both a church and a nursing job landed withing 7 days of each other.

This all started back in the early autumn, followed by a long period where the move to Brighton occupied a vague future and almost ethereal sphere. Even the physical act of moving was relatively stress-free, it is only now we are feeling the cold, hard ‘thud’ of landing. Plucked from a cosy and full community of friends and activities in Pembrokeshire, to a relative desert-island.

I confess that this is a slightly over-dramatised version of events, as being part of a minister’s family is also to belong to a ready-made global community. But there remains a hiatus of separation, where ministry-life is marbled through the community, rather then emulsified into it. Even the Rectory in Llangwm was not quite in the village, but, rather, slightly outside the boundary and nowhere near the church.

No such physical separation here, where we are squashed between the church and church hall, our kitchen window being in a direct line of vision to the hall door. Although this gives us a direct view of the comings and goings, Monday’s puppy class is a definite favourite with Neymar, and I must remember to get fully dressed before making the morning tea. Of equal concern, is the washing line, handily placed outside the back door: I discovered during the Easter egg hunt that the churchyard gives a bird’s eye view of the family’s undies.

There are also meteorological adjustments to be made. I have a deteriorating collection of desiccated tomato plants in the garden, the result of missing one day’s watering, but have as yet suffered no slug-damage. Garden furniture, football goals, laundry all stay where they are, rather than being strewn around the neighbourhood, as less wind batters our borders.

There is a lot to miss about Pembrokeshire, but there is also much to be discovered in Sussex and we are looking forward to what St.Michael’s holds in store for us over the coming months, as we become integrated if not immersed in parish life.