Village Fetes, Hippydom & A Welcome Return

Last weekend saw the annual Bramfield Summer Fete, which for those people not familiar with the quintessential English Small Town Fete Set up, means that its an excuse to get back to our roots and spend a day doing "quaint" and "good old fashioned fun" things. Depending on your point of view its either a great English tradition, or a collection of spastics in a field throwing wellies, trying to knock a coconut off a stick and spending far too much money trying win a load of tat in a hamper. I managed to find the drink tent and had a bottle of champagne and a hotdog (damn it feels good to be a gangster...) which set me up perfectly to throw wellies, try to knock coconuts off sticks and spend too much money trying to win a hamper full of crap...


Here I am just before winning 2 (thats TWO) coconuts thanks to my amazing coordination and the slightly relaxed rules of the coconut shy run by four potentially special 12 year olds...




I am also pissed off that my favourite Tshirt that I've had for years has been remade by the wankspanners at Topman which means Im going to have to put up with an army of goits wandering around the town nodding at me in recognition for having the same shirt on. Reading that back it does sound a little melodramatic and self indulgent but when it comes down to it, this is my melodramatic self indulgent blog and youre reading it so its your own fault really...


To take my mind off it I reunited with the powerful midafternoon snack that is A Cream Tea...





Then in my slightly champagne fuelled, or should that be "dulled" state, sat around while Mrs Dickfingers decided to spend about 10 minutes poking daisies into what she affectionately refers to as "your ratnest haircut." For about 10 minutes I felt that the Woodstock dream was alive...




I then got bored and vandalised the plant stall, changing the names and prices in a vain attempt to drum up sales. Unfortunately the quiet people of Bramfield weren't really prepared to pay £25 for a "Green Plant" but thats their loss at the end of the day...




I also saw a couple of puppies larking about until one had a fit, seriously, but I was told that it was bad taste to rush back to the plant stall to get the camera. You've all got Mrs Dickfingers to thank for not having a picture of a puppy having a fit. If I get the time Ill try and draw it Tony Hart Style but I'm not making any rash promises...


On the way home I decided to stick my head out the window and take a picture... just because.





Apparently dogs love it so I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Its pretty rubbish to honest. More scientific recreations next time: which might include such fascinating topics as Skateboarding, Gays and "How Much I Hate My Job"