T'was the morning before the village fete
The sun is shining as I take the spaniels out for their morning walk across the fields. They spring through the long grass and buttercups and plantain, flicking up the dew as they pass.
Down on the school allotment, there is a curious structure with what looks like a stuffed body in long trousers and braces. In kitchens and front rooms, the scarecrows are finally taking shape, ready to be placed outside the house at 10 o'clock.
Mr Grigg is up at the village hall, ovens at the ready, preparing for the village Big Breakfast. He will be in charge of a kitchen full of lovelies, doing his best Gordon Ramsay impression while I sit out front and take the money. Maths is not my forte, but I'd rather be overcharging impatient customers that than be anywhere near Mr Grigg in a busy kitchen.
He will bark and yell and the ladies will love him, as will the male helpers but not in a homoerotic way, you understand.
In our hallway, the floor is covered in cardboard to ease the passage of the builders, there is a roll-a-penny board propped up against the wall, boxes of marked-up tombola prizes and plenty of dust.
So far, preparation for the village fete today is going very smoothly. Too smoothly, methinks. Time for a lie-down before the fun begins.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x
PS - sorry to brag but I am overjoyed for Number One Son who has just been awarded a 2:1 Bsc Hons degree in environmental geoscience from Bristol University. And there's me struggling to do basic mathematical calculations. I am renaming him The Boy Wonder.
Down on the school allotment, there is a curious structure with what looks like a stuffed body in long trousers and braces. In kitchens and front rooms, the scarecrows are finally taking shape, ready to be placed outside the house at 10 o'clock.
Mr Grigg is up at the village hall, ovens at the ready, preparing for the village Big Breakfast. He will be in charge of a kitchen full of lovelies, doing his best Gordon Ramsay impression while I sit out front and take the money. Maths is not my forte, but I'd rather be overcharging impatient customers that than be anywhere near Mr Grigg in a busy kitchen.
He will bark and yell and the ladies will love him, as will the male helpers but not in a homoerotic way, you understand.
In our hallway, the floor is covered in cardboard to ease the passage of the builders, there is a roll-a-penny board propped up against the wall, boxes of marked-up tombola prizes and plenty of dust.
So far, preparation for the village fete today is going very smoothly. Too smoothly, methinks. Time for a lie-down before the fun begins.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x
PS - sorry to brag but I am overjoyed for Number One Son who has just been awarded a 2:1 Bsc Hons degree in environmental geoscience from Bristol University. And there's me struggling to do basic mathematical calculations. I am renaming him The Boy Wonder.
All of the preparations sound fun and intriguing!
ReplyDeleteCongratulations for your son! That is wonderful!
I know the post is primarily about the warm up towards the fete but it's the bit about the 2:1 Bsc Hons which truly moves me.
ReplyDeleteI feel I've touched a miracle this morning. How can anyone's son manage such a thing? How can anyone even pass Maths GCSE?
Esther
(P.S. Good luck for the fete. As long as you have a marquee or some other tea-place to run to laughing merrily (Miss Read style) should a storm come . . . you are bound for a great day.
P.P.S. The word verification is 'tispapp' which, I think, means a 'tea-opportunity arising from a mishapp'.
Brag all you like about your Boy Wonder - any mother will understand.
ReplyDeleteHonestly, your village is sounding more and more like something out of a Miss Marple episode on Masterpiece Theatre. Pictures please.