The grand tradition of the Village Fete, in a country with changeable and increasingly extreme weather, must seem bizaare to anyone living in a country with guaranteed summer sunshine. But with true grit and faith (and a borrowed marquee and giant gazebo) we knew it would be alright on the day. With an hour to go to opening the heavens opened and accompanied by thunder and lightning the road outside the Fete venue disappeared under muddy water!
Undeterred the Fete opened on time, the sun came out and we all had a grand time: cream teas, bottle stall, bowls, hoopla, brass bands - all the usual Village Fete stuff that happens every Saturday afternoon in villages up and down the country. We had mud too, but not on the scale of Glastonbury. Our Plant Stall looked fantastic and made £167 for the local church. Of course you have to buy things as well as sell them - so I've come home with lots of plants including an orchid and a tree peony seedling.
Rewards, Not Threats
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