So much for having a lie in yesterday – it was the church fete. I was up at the crack of dawn to finish wrapping parcels for posting (two of them all the stuff our visitors had left when they came to stay!) Then a quick dash down to the church – adorned with bunting of course – (the church, not me) to make a start on coffees for the workers.
SO once more I found myself chained to the sink in the church kitchen. Mind you, it’s a long time since I’ve shared the sink with Ken, who’s great for a laugh, even if I did end up soaked into the process. And it was rather nice to find myself able to take the pace for the whole four hours of taking orders, making lunches and drinks, washing up and clearing tables. You know, I could quite fancy owning a cafe! (as long as I got enough money to employ staff, of course) I won’t tell Chris I thought of him when I was put in charge of the squirty cream!
Utter embarrassment as Dad won the raffle – having declared his intention of doing so, and the raffle lady having promised to make sure his ticket was on top. (He’s an incorrigible flirt, you know). It’s a set of saucepans. Now at last maybe he’ll part with some of the many that my mum was given as a wedding present nearly sixty years ago. I think the sentimental value of them is rather outweighed by the fact that they’re heavy and dented and there are five million of them. What did I win? A pack of three tennis balls. I ask you!
Smudgelet helped wait on table a little… he was asked to take the rolls over to a lady who hadn’t had one with her meal, so he grabbed a roll, wandered over, and plonked it on a plate, saying “there you go”. Somehow I don’t think he has a role in life as a waiter. Tiddles does, actually – he does a wonderful job, as my sister told him shortly before he dropped all the cutlery on the floor.
Shame the lasagne burnt – but then it wouldn’t be a church meal without something being burnt or underdone, would it? And I wasn’t having lasagne anyway.
Church Anniversary today. Mad dash to swimming, mad dash home again to pick up my father, then mad dash back to church, hopefully in time to practise the excrutiatingly difficult hymns before the service starts (unlikely). Then, naturally, the Church Anniversary Lunch! Oh how I wish I liked salad! Still, it will be good for my figure, I assume. At least I’m not preparing it… but I have a horrible feeling there’s a teatowel with my name on it!