Friday, 10 June 2011

A world party - or will it rain on our parade?

There's a bishop's mitre in the hallway, a Greek urn on the bed. There's a pair of Gladiator sandals on the cushion and an old sheet about to be transformed into a gown for an Athenian goddess.

The Lidl bags are full of cider, little beers and dozens of fruit shots. And there's a handful of kids' colouring books from the pound shop, ready for unwrapping to be used as prizes on the wheel spinner.

In Champagne-Charlie's garden next door, a frame hangs like a crucifix waiting to be dressed. In the Grigg household, there are a few props and an idea ready to explode if only I had the inclination to feel creative. Across the way at the Bancrofts, they haven't even started to think about what they're going to make.

And as the village fete, parade of banners and scarecrow festival gets nearer by the hour, there are curses from garages as chicken wire is stuffed into trousers, straw into old checked shirts. A limb here, a limb there, a headless torso, a head without a body. We are all getting too old for this. This is meant to be fun.

And then one of the main organisers - due to be on the plate smashing stall with Mr Grigg tomorrow - breaks his thumb and will have to direct things, like Zeus from Mount Olympus, in toga and bandage.

The bagpiper is double booked and the face painter is unwell.

And, as Bubbles tests out her ping pong balls next door (it's not a rude game, believe me), Tuppence shimmies into her grass skirt for the hula hooping competition and Pelly Sheepwash puts on an Italian accent to take orders at the ice cream stall.

Mr Loggins is excused fancy dress after a nasty little operation while Darling strings a garland of flowers together for the Hawaiian coconut shy. Manual is trying on his French maid's outfit for the snail race and tickling Mrs Regal Bird with a feather duster. Mr Putter is growing a pigtail for the Chinese tombola.

Nobby Odd Job will have corks around his hat for the Aussie barbie while Lady Friend will be performing Annie Get Your Gun behind the Wild West bar. Mrs Mabel Lucie-Attwell is Native American and the fragrant Mrs Putter will be something exotic, like a sweet smelling lotus blossom.

The skittles have been painted as Russian dolls and will be manned by a team led by Randy Munchkin, with deep pockets full of vodka.

Caruso and his singers are practising their Hungarian rhapsodies while Ding Dong Daddy and his genuinely international band of musicians limber up for the limbo.

This year, you see, the fete has 'global village' as its theme. And this is how the after fete party might go:

But then again, it could pour down.

That's about it.

Love Maddie x


  1. Well that will be some party - a far cry from the chili-and-buns on the grass that passes as our community's yearly fest.

  2. Your posts always make me smile...and they ALWAYS make me want to move to your little town!

  3. We really need to see some photos of this one! Particularly the Greek Goddess.


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