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Every third Saturday, Quorndon's village hall fills with faulty lamps, silent radios and hopeful owners. We spent a morning with the volunteer fixers who believe that a broken toaster is just a story waiting to be told — and that mending is a neighbourly act.
From the church tower to the village hall and the stubbornly fast clock above the old bakery, Quorndon’s timepieces rely on a quiet rota of volunteers, caretakers and gentle fixers. We went in search of the people behind the hands — and the five-minute mystery nobody seems keen to solve.
What began with one house, a spare extension lead and a set of tired fairy lights has become a Quorndon festive tradition. We meet the neighbours behind the annual switch-on and find out why those battered bulbs still matter.
Every Tuesday, a village kitchen fills with the smell of onions, lentils and something quietly heroic. Quorndon’s informal soup club has become a lifeline for residents who might otherwise go a whole day without a proper chat.