The Busvine Line is the name given to the railway that runs through Buzz Town.  The line runs from here to there and returns via no-where, rarely visits somewhere and never goes anywhere.  This is why we love it!  A lot of disruption is caused by people going places and overlooking what is right on their own doorstep, but that's just my opinion.  Now let me introduce myself...

I’m Pete the postman for Buzz Town.  I was born here and my father before me.  There’s nothing unusual about a father being born before his son of course, although it’s not the case with the Rumble family up at Ridge farm.   Over there Barney Rumble is dad to Jake and Marsha, despite being no older than Jake himself.  Their mum Mary has been around a bit, so they say...and by that I don't think they mean that she's well travelled (wink, wink).  Fred, her husband before Barney, is the father of her two kids, but as he spent most of his time propping up the bar in the Kings Head who's to blame her for spending her time with that other chap? I forget what his name was now, Ronnie or Donny...something like that.  Ronnie or whatever his name is lives over the hill past the church, and some say it’s a pity he came over this side.  Come to think of it...he could be the father of red haired Marsha, but that's just gossip and I want no part of it.  Jake is Fred’s son alright, he has the same dark hair and with one eye blue with t’other brown, just like Fred, there can be no mistaking. 

Folks do a lot of talking around these parts. Talking is something folk did before Facebook took over and made the voice redundant. Some say that Barney has a bit of a thing going on with Josie Lott, who lives next door to the Snider family near the pub.  She and Barney have been seen over by the Badger place, testing the suspension of his car let’s say.  Mary doesn’t know about it...but then she’s got a lot on her mind bless her.  She’s none too happy these days to be honest with you.  That chap Albert’s to blame for it.  An attractive bloke is Albert, attractive to both sides let's say.  We had a bit of a thing going on ourselves awhile back, variety being the spice of life...but that dalliance fizzled out.  Anyhow, that's enough said as he’s now getting married to Eunice, the Conway daughter.  They are having a posh ‘do’ with a white car.  White car and white dress but her no better than she should be, as my mother Maud would say. 

Yes, there’s been a lot of gossip about Eunice.  I know she had an affair with that bloke Bob from the garage and he being married to Susan and them having three kids.  Well, that’s what they reckon anyway, and who am I to know any different?  I keep my thoughts to myself, but it’s common to see that the two young ones are as blonde as Barney Rumble, and the older one with the red hair looks a lot like Mary’s old flame to be honest with you, but it won’t be me that says a word about that. 

Buzz Town’s a fair place to live.  We keep ourselves to ourselves and don't like idle gossip. 
Buzz Town's what might be considered multi-cultural now that Mrs Imbra Hussan has been imported to the area.  Nice lady, though why she needs to dress up like an arab I don’t know.  Rev' Graves is all akimbo about it and says she’s a foreigner.  I ask you! Just because she comes from other parts doesn't make her a foreigner does it?  Like I told the Rev', the train line here divides the town from the shore like a knife running through butter, but isn’t the butter still what it is?  Me, I travel all across to New Town, over the Ridge on t'other side to the Village...but does that make me a foreigner, or just a bloke moving about?  I can’t get the hang of it...calling people foreigners seems a feather-brained notion, which is probably why it's mentioned a lot on the radio when polly ticks is being discussed. 

On the other hand there are some kids down by the track that’ve set up a tent and there’s a couple of ‘wiggams’ set up alongside the tents.  Now 'wiggams' aren't from these parts and there's no need for 'em.  They wouldn't have happened when I was a lad.  Call a tent a tent, that's what I say and you know where you are with that.  I think wiggams belong to Indians...from India.  Some say Indians are foreign bodies, but I once had a Poppadum and that was just like a Pringles only bigger...so I reckon it's the size that makes the difference. 

My father was a bit strict like.  Narrow minded some say. I went to a school where the boys were kept fenced up on one side with the girls on the other.  Kept apart.  Parents wanted no mixing. Funny that.  But least said soonest mended.  Well, it’s not like me to gossip, I best get on with my job.  Oh here’s Jake coming along...I’ll just pull my cap down low over my eyes, as it wouldn’t do me any good to upset mother by causing more rumours now would it...what with her and 'uncle' Fred getting along just fine... and she’s got a good steak pie waiting for me on the kitchen table. 

Before that though, when I’m done here chatting I’ll make my way up to the church on the Ridge.  I couldn’t press myself to go earlier, not with the wedding going on and with Eunice about to present me with my first born any day now.  I suggested we name him John, but she’s being contrary and says he’ll be named Lonnie.  I suppose she has her reasons, but I’ll not pry.  I’m not one for gossip, it causes a lot of trouble for folks.  Least said soonest mended that's my motto.