Wanting to contribute more to village life, we went along to the first fete committee meeting. DH (aparently DH stands for “Darling Husband” in common Internet parlance) had an idea for a new entertainment stall, and, having played last year, I would volunteer the services of the Harbury Ukulele Group. A fair few people had turned up, so it was a bit unexpected that the first item on the agenda was to discuss whether they would have a fete this year.
I was surprised, as when viewing the house before we moved into the village two years ago, I knocked on the neighbours’ door. A nice lady came to answer, and told me a bit about life in the village. One of the highlights mentioned then was the village fete. Cousin A, who was with me, agreed. It seems that DH’s mum and Auntie Nellie were firm fans of the fair, which was famed for its bargains back in the day.
Anyway, it seems that part of the problem was that no one wanted to organise it this year. People have other responsibilities, and the lady who organised it last year has her house up for sale. So, thinking it would be a shame to lose such an long-established tradition, and fuelled by a rather pleasant glass of red wine, I put my hand up to volunteer. DH looked quizzically at me. But I was not daunted. After all, how hard could it be?
We’d been to the last two fetes. A few stalls and activities at the local pub. It was clear that there were many willing volunteers, and that everyone knew what they were doing. All it needed was a bit of co-ordination, right?
I was thrown my first curveball straightaway. We needed to look for a new venue.