...would no doubt have been the headline if this were the local rag!
Yes, today should have been the day of our village show, which unfortunately, much to Mia’s dismay, has been cancelled due to the heavy rain we’ve experienced this Summer.
I’m disappointed too, I would love to have entered some of our eggs from our newly-acquired hens in the “best 6 eggs” class, or had a go at the “best floral arrangement in a teacup”, not to mention the “tallest thistle” which we always just miss out on – having come 4th last year, we one day aim to find one worthy of at least the top three!
My poor dad, however, will no doubt be relieved that this year, he hasn’t been summoned to go in search of, in Mia’s words, “the most gigantic thistle in the world, grandpa”. And my father, who would do anything for his little granddaughter heads out with his shovel, usually in the rain, and comes home, hours later, triumphant (in his eyes) with a 7 foot thistle in tow and arms and face covered in scratches. Every year we transport the horrible spiky thing in my husband’s car – having struggled to get it in there in the first place, battling to get it out again, Mia very nearly losing an eye in the process, only to find that when we arrive at the marquee there are already a long line of thistles – a great deal taller than ours! Mia is deflated – and so I am, (just a tad!), and Husband is left wondering why on earth we bother.
Most of all though, I will miss the children’s Fancy Dress competition. Now, I say “children’s”, though I have to admit, it is the parents with the whom the competition really lies. Every year we battle it out as to who can produce the best costume, festooned upon our little darlings as they line up in front of the Judge (usually the local Vicar, whom I have to say, always looks as though he would rather be sampling the sponge cake from the WI tent rather than being handed this particular role! And I can’t say I blame him). The atmosphere amongst the parents while the Vicar carefully studies each child’s ensemble could literally be cut through with a knife. And once the winners have been announced, we politely congratulate the winning child’s mother “what a fantastic costume you have made”, all the while vowing inside to outdo her the following year! Last year, Mia was a Rubix cube – she came second, pipped at the post by the Jack-in-a-Box!
My poor Husband still rolls his eyes in despair at the sheer mention of the Jack-in-a-Box – I’m sure he is secretly relieved that there has been no such competition this year – and his wife, in her quest to “outdo that bloomin Jack-in-a-box” has not been up until the early hours making a “Tin Man” outfit. Yes, we had decided on the Tin Man this year, Mia loves the Wizard of Oz, and had chosen this outfit as far back as last December, I kid you not.
Another part of the show that he won’t miss is the children’s sports. How lovely, you might say, the children having fun in the three-legged races and jumping around in their sacks. Well, yes indeed, unless you have our child, who, upon realising that she hadn’t won the egg and spoon one year, flung her egg as far as she could manage, and then the spoon as well, just for good measure!
(My little darling, above, with the blue t-shirt and red shorts)
There she was, stomping across the field towards us, arms folded, tears streaming down her cheeks, everyone looking as us bemused, and my lovely husband chooses that moment to announce “right, see you later, I’m off home” and quickly makes a dash for it, leaving me to deal with the aftermath. I know I should tell her off for being so silly, but instead I ignore it and distract her with the cake tent – all the while amazed at how far she’d managed to throw that egg – now if that were a competition she’d have won for sure!
Yes, the Husband may have had a lucky escape, but I have certainly missed the village show. Still, there’s always next year…you’d better watch out Jack-in-a-Box, the Tin Man may have his day yet….!
(image from Google)