stephbg | Fete Worse Than Death

It's the Wembley Downs District Fair this Saturday, one of the biggest events in the Wembley Downs calendar. Possibly the only event in the Wembley Downs calendar.

It's a good fete, and I try to go every year. Fortunately it's within walking distance of the folks' place, because the street parking on the day is something of a circus. Unfortunately, while it's not far, the fete is significantly lower in altitude, making the slog home with one's booty a bit of a cliff climb.

And what booty is that? The traditional spoils of war from such an event include a pot plant, a book, and a cake. One must at least look at all these things. I used to be a bit of a punter with the games of chance, particularly the toss-the-coin-onto-the-grid thingie. I climbed a wall once. I did the ropes course, before the lawyers shut it down. One year someone brought along an old car and had a Vent Your Suburban Rage With A Sledgehammer stall, which was scarily successful.

One year I bought a bunch of peacock feathers, which did duty as cat toys for many years to follow.

One year I bought a foam head which I used for Swancon costuming purposes, until I loaned and eventually donated to

semei_beloved where I believe it gets a bit more of a workout.

Husband has a Thing about choclate crackles, so I always keep an eye out for them. I will probably get some non-beige but fabulous lemon slice from The Lemon Stall.

I couldn't vouch for anything but the quantity of preserves, chutneys, and marmalades on offer. The lawyers haven't got to them so presumably no-one's been killed yet.

There will be excruiciating performances from local school and amateur bands. There is no other kind, but I'm sure all the participants and their Mums will be very excited.

I expect the model train people will set up in the scout hall, next to the woodworkers and the devonshire teas.

There will be a pointless PA system, for the transmission of mysterious alien garblings. Perhaps related to the quantities of fairy floss, hot dogs, toffee apples and donuts on offer.

There will be massively oversubscribed pony rides, on woefully small and sad looking ponies. The baby farm animal nursery will be far too popular for a childless woman in her 30s to get a look in.

There will be church groups, play groups, sporting groups, environmental groups, police and emergency services groups, all fighting for fundraising dollars. Some will have lucky dips of dubious good fortune, others raffle for hampers dressed up with coloured cellophane. Some of them will have tables full of garage-sale crud, some of which I swear turns up year after year. There's this 70's wooden snack platter with a carved pineapple in the middle that I'm sure I've seen more than once.

There will be a silent auction, which I will ignore, not being in the market for a dozen bottles of red, a dinner for four at a local eatery, or a weekend away.

All the fun of the fair.