Showing posts with label Village Fetes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Village Fetes. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 05, 2009

I ♥ Seal Clubbing

I need a dream analyst. A few nights ago, I dreamt that I was on an oil rig in the middle of what was a very calm sea. I turned to look out of one of the windows and saw a humungus tidal wave heading towards the rig. Not only did this powerful tidal wave engulf the structure but it knocked it sideways into the sea. I managed to escape through one of the broken windows where I swam to a small island that was occupied entirely by seals. Thousands of them. Realising that I needed food to survive, I started looking for a broken tree branch which would enable me to kill one of the beasts before roasting it over a campfire. Fortunately, a passing amphibious Citroen 2CV pulled over and offered me a lift to the mainland, which I greatly accepted. I had trouble clambering into the vehicle but just as I made myself comfortable, I woke up. What does it mean? I reckon I'm due for a massive heart attack.

Moving on from fears of cardiac arrest, I'd like to wish League Two Champions Brentford FC all the best for next season (coronary inducing pitch invasion celebratory pictures here) and I'd wish Palace even more but I can't muster any enthusiasm. Something that did raise the spirits over the bank holiday weekend was the yearly but ever-so-humble Annual Beddington Fete. Lots of stalls selling bric-a-brac, raffle tickets, tombola, etc but the real attraction of all of this was the open day at the Wildlife Hospital. Set on the edge of Beddington Park, this "charidable" organisation helps restore the health of many animals that can be found in the nearby surroundings, such as foxes, pigeons, ducks and squirrels. They've rescued an albino squirrel from being beaten to death by the more common grey squirrels that infest the locality. I say infest, because to some folk they're classed as vermin. I was once told of an ancient law: if you capture a grey squirrel you are not supposed to let it go and you must kill it to stop the genetic spread of these creatures. I'll be sure to do that next time one of the little gits get into my vehicle through the open sunroof. St Mary's of Beddington is a small, picturesque church which stands to the right of Carew Manor and had opened its doors to the local sight seers. The inside is decorated with beautiful medieval style biblical illustrations which cover the walls in a similar style to that of the classic eastern European icon painters. The bell tower was open, enabling us to see the bell ringers in action as well as being nearly deafened after we climbed the narrow steps further up into the belfry to hear the loud, clanging bells. And then we went to Hastings. The place was crammed full of youngsters who had painted themselves green. Some were playing snare drums, some were throwing shoes. We didn't know what the significance of all this was, so we went in search of a fish'n'chip restaurant. The one we encountered served re-fried chips and I ate every one of them. I reckon I'm due for a massive heart attack.