So there we were, rocking all over The Enchanted Village Hall to five vicars singing I want to be break free by Queen.
With a flick of a wrist, their dog collars were off, discarded for the evening as a collection of grey heads and people the wrong side of 50 whooped and hollered.
Earlier my neighbour, Mrs Champagne-Charlie, muttered that it all seemed a bit like community singing at an old folks’ home and then guffawed when she saw my attire and prodded her husband with her elbow.
‘Oh,’ Mr Champagne-Charlie said, doing the mashed potato to I'm a believer. ‘Where on earth did you get those?’
‘You can cut your sarcasm,’ I said. ‘You’re hardly in a position to mock, with your toff’s trousers the colour of calf scour. This, dear neighbour, is the rock chick look.’
Because Mrs Bancroft had arranged for Dogs Without Collars – five Dorset clergymen – to appear for one night only in aid of the three parish churches.
And my job was to look after them.
‘Sorry,’ I said, when asked to help on the bar, ‘I’m with the band.’
Once a groupie, always a groupie.
So I rocked on through the night, brought firmly to heel by Mr Grigg for the last dance.
And do you know, I even won first prize in the raffle.
Love Maddie x
As I write, it’s a mad scramble to get things done before heading off on the annual weekend trip to North Devon. In years gone by, there w...
They say that good things come in threes... Well, two good things have just happened to me, writing-wise. There's a feature about my...
A smell of garlic began to make my nostrils twitch. I was inside the house, the shutters were closed to keep out the sun and mosquitoes and ...
Once upon a time, when I was fit, I cycled up to the most wonderful place on earth. It's in West Dorset and, when you get to the to...
Once upon a time, a long time ago, I was a child in a meadow with a woodland circle of beech trees around me. And there was clover growing i...