Movie Star Treatment…

We visited the house, Stowe Maries, in the village that was previously owned by the actor Leslie Howard and we watched an old black and white movie, Pygmalion, that he was in. We watched the film, glass of bubbly in hand, in the actor’s own cinema that is in the garden of his grand house next to the swimming pool. The event was organised by the local history group with the kind permission of the current owners and was a sell out. The film is a classic and it was even more fun to be in the same room as the star, next to his art-deco bar and a couple of feet away from the old projector that he must have used to entertain his glamorous film star guests.

More of wot I have read…

Nothing but Blue Skies by Tom Holt

Ok, who pissed of the dragons then? Now I know why this summer has been so pants.

This is an entertaining and supremely silly book full of jokes and madcap adventures and is worth a look if you want some cheering up on a wet summer’s day.

‘There are very many reasons why British summers are either non-existant or, alternatively, held on a Thursday. Many of these reasons are either scientific, mad, or both – but all of them are wrong, especially the scientific ones. The real reason why it rains perpetually from January 1^st to December 31^st (incl.) is, of course, irritable Chinese water dragons.

Karen is one such legendary creature. Ancient, noble, near-indestructible and, for a number of wildly improbable reasons, working as an estate-agent, Karen is irritable quite a lot of the time. Hence Wimbledon. She becomes positively incensed, however, when she discovers that her father, the Adjutant General to the Dragon King of the North-west, has been kidnapped by a mob of livid weathermen.’

Summer Fail…

There spring started with meteorological promise and we had a lovely March with bright skies and warm spring days. The spring flowers bloomed early and the birds and bees busied themselves as the sap started to rise. As the sun continued for an unprecedented duration (more than three days in succession) we were told we had entered a period of drought, but as soon as the water companies imposed a hose-pipe water ban it started to rain… …and rain, and still it rains.

I am not a sun worshipper and do not like it too hot (when it is cold you can always put on more clothes, if it is too hot there is a limit to how much you can take off before it becomes obscene), nevertheless, the only chance I have of getting any colour on my pallid skin currently seems to be due to rust.

I was looking forward to some drought, to scorching days and balmy evenings spent out doors with the sun on your back and a glass of something cold in your hand, to conserving water by sharing a bath with a friend, to not having to wash the car (although admittedly I usually leave this job to those nice Polish people at the supermarket car park anyway), but now the weather forecasters have told us that we should not consider this June to be summer. Soon we will have passed the longest day, so when will we have our summer I wonder?

My folks are over for a couple of months, spend time with us and with other family and friends in the UK and touring France and Spain. We noted with some chagrin that the weather back in New Zealand (their winter) was recently warmer and drier than here. How is that possible?

Meet the Neighbours…

Unrelated to the Jubilee is the now annual BBQ for neighbours of Westcott and Bailey Roads that took place the weekend after the Queen’s big party and was held in the village’s second church St John’s (no longer used for regular religious service and used as social and community activities) and adjacent graveyard. We were lucky with the weather and managed to be outside where people picnicked on the ground, at tables and chairs set out among the gravestones or standing up talking with others as the children ran around and enjoyed themselves.

It was great to catch up with established friends and to meet new ones. There was a mix of people present from new families just moved in with babes in arms, to folks who had been in the village for decades. It was sad the one of the oldest residents of the village, Pat, was too unwell to join us and he was much missed.

In the end it seemed that it was universally agreed that the event was enjoyed by all who attended and it was even suggested that a second mid winter event be held to complement it. Along with this there were a few more recruits for the regular curry night and a suggestion for a friendly football team event.

All in all it was very enjoyable and I feel glad that we belong to such a friendly place.

Jubilee Celebrations…

Westcott Street Party was one of many that happened during the long weekend and it attracted a good turn out with an estimated 700 people either on the recreational ground watching the sporting endeavours, or along Westcott Street eating, drinking and making merry. We started at the rec and watched various iconic ‘sporting’ events, such as egg and spoon race, sack race, three legged race. Some energetic souls competed in the Westcott Mile around the village and teams lined up for the tug-of-war contest (the best of which was the Rugby Club lads all dressed in black and flexing and stretching with serious intent as they faced off against the Old Gits team dressed in red, white and blue of various combinations and whose pre-match routine seemed to consist of emptying their wine glasses and hip flask cups before handing them to members of the audience for temporary protection). The combination of sneaky additional members on the Old Git’s team and Sue’s advice to ‘not be too rough on the old guys’, meant that the Old Gits took an early and surprising (especially to the Rugby Boys) lead in the best of three pulls before they eventually succumbed.

Spots of rain drove us back home where we had our picnic lunch indoors with friends and neighbours. Once it cleared and suitably fortified a few of us ventured forth again to where the street party was continuing and we set up camp in front of the music tent where we listened to the fine musicians, watched the dancers and eventually, once forcibly dragged onto the dance floor by Jodie, dancing ourselves. Our supplies we replenished by the regular need to return home relieve one selves only to return with replacement liquids (had it been planned better the girls might have started on the Moet and Taittinger rather than starting with the Prosecco and ending on the posh stuff)

The marathon Jubilee weekend on television included all of the events that the Queen attended including the Epsom Derby, the Thames floating pageant, the concert at Buckingham Palace, the lighting of the beacons throughout the country and Commonwealth and ending with the service at St Paul’s a carriage procession and fly past over Buck House. Not everyone is a staunch Royalist but there certainly seemed to be plenty of determined flag waving souls who stood in the regular deluge of rain to support the Queen, and we did watch some of it on the box from the comfort of our lounge (those poor singers standing on the Philharmonic barge in the driving rain, soaked to the skin in the cold wind as they bravely sang out).