Sunday, 9 June 2013

Standing in a field, we talked...


On and on we went, his wife lost interest
in fairly short order, and who can blame her?
Such a piffling thing, but oh how it impacts
on everything you do.
And to find someone who has first hand experience (cheap joke)
 makes you realise that it not just you, being a dramatic diva with
a dastardly digit.

Yesterday found thumb and I at the Wealden Times Summer Fair.
We weren't for once there in a buying capacity, I made up my mind
in these straightened times I wouldn't...
although I did take the measurements of a wonderful French
table.  Scuttling off, I furtively phoned man at home alone, for him to
see if the table would fit.
He breathed a huge sigh of relief... it would; however
we couldn't sit the twenty six (fib) chairs comfortably around it.
I was there clad in fluorescent yellow, so catwalk, so this season,
so not large lady with bosoms!
Kent Air Ambulance emblazoned across my back and chest.
Bucket in hand I positioned myself sphynx-like by the steps
leading into the fair at the impressive
Hole Park in Rolvenden.
Now you are not supposed to rattle your bucket,
however, because I'm a fidget, I did shake my booty,
which in turn caused the coins to make themselves known.
This in turn drew folks attention to the fact we were there.
One old gentleman, asked if for extra cash, I'd do
mouth to mouth?  Well I'm all for raising money for a
good cause, although even larger than life LL 
has to draw the line somewhere!

A call out for the Air Ambulance caused by a volunteer
might just not be very well received back at base? 

I thoroughly enjoyed my day.

What better way than to spend time talking to people out on a jolly.
  Added to which who knows when they might need the services of
such a worthwhile resource.  



  1. Dinin' table eh? My sister-in-outlaw spotted my current dining table in an emporium, a lovely chunk of extremely solid oak with a set of matched chairs. She loved it and the price-tag was surely a mis-print of some kind with a serious zero missing. While she was debating with the bro about whether to buy it or not I was at the checkout, paying for it...

    Nil hesitatum, if you'll pardon my latino.
    I'm not convinced that she has ever forgiven me.

  2. Oak table with drawers at each end, big enough to accommodate two bodies, toe to toe. Even on arrival home I hankered; we walked the course, me with ideas of them going back to St. Leonards via here. In my heart I knew that the use of a megaphone to say 'Pass the salt!' was so not an option.

    Is that the bro of sticky bun fame at your sibling bonding day out at Horsmoneux, or the Lincs equivalent? If you don't mind me saying you are a very spoilt gentleman having a brother and sister, and there's me with neither... nor yet a huge oak table.