Tractors towing trailers full of potatoes have been thundering through the village over the past few days. We initially thought it was Mrs Bancroft's supply for a mass baked potato supper but it transpires they are on their way to become Walkers crisps. Mr Grigg and I have been lying in wait for them next to the speed bumps. With arms outstretched, in the hope of catching a few strays.
I remember seeing a potato trailer going up a hill once, the tractor driver oblivious as the spuds escaped and rolled out cheerfully in his wake. Like something from medieval times, locals came out of their front doors to scoop up their rewards. That happened with a meat lorry in Chard once when I was on a school lunch break. It did a U-turn, its back doors flew open and joints fired out in all directions. I have never seen so many 1970s teenagers act so quickly, running out into the street en masse, picking up legs of lamb, chickens and rib of beef and scuttling home to mother with enough food to feed the family for a week.
There was food a-plenty last night, when almost my entire cast list turned up to a thank you party for all those who helped out at the fete. The theme was 'hats off to helpers'. Celebrity Farmer turned up at the village hall for about five minutes wearing a mortar board and then blushed very deeply when we, including his mother and father in Viking helmets, all sang happy birthday.
Mr Grigg looked very fetching in a captain's hat, Mrs Bancroft and Randy Munchkin wore matching sombreros, Manual had a hat with corks, Pelly donned a bowler and I had a beret. I thought the two of us looked rather attractive until someone said we reminded them of Freddy Parrot-Face Davies and Fred Scuttle.
Everyone sniggered when Bellows grabbed the microphone. He could have said his thank you speech from his house, way up the road, without amplification. We would have still heard him.
But the best was yet to come. Cue the always popular newspaper game, in which you dance around bits of ever-decreasing sheets of newspaper and jump on one when the music stops. There is no limit to how many people can stand on the paper, just as long as no feet are touching the floor. I swear Nobby Odd-Job was deliberately keeping close to the curvaceous Randy Munchkin and the elegant Lady Friend. As Dancing Queen came to an end, he jumped on a bit of paper, pulling them with him and ended up like the filling in a sandwich.
No wonder he had a smile on his face.
That's about it
Love Maddie x
Living in Greece for the past couple of months, I've been asked what the refugee situation is like here. Well, to be perfectly hones...
Oh my. Dorset is going to be bathed in swathes of light. The spotlight is literally turning on Hardy's Dorset, rural Dorset, that buco...
We're in the pub in Lush Places, our ears ringing from a night of wonderful music. The gritter lorry goes by, churning its contents ...
About seven weeks ago, I wrote a piece for my column in the oldest woman's weekly magazine in the world, The People's Friend . ...
For eleven years, this was my holiday. Not bad for a confirmed landlubber. It all began in 2004 when Mr Grigg and I were looking for a ...