Summer starts here

It was Fawcett Friday as F Senior announced her engagement (congratulations!) and F Minor returned from Baghdad in fine condition. We gave her a proper war hero's reception in Mr Lawrence.

Saturday was a trip to the past – the Hulcott Village Fete. If there was ever a blueprint for all village fetes, this must be it. Crappy prizes were handed out on the tombola stall, youngsters were Bowling For A Ham (roll a ball through a hoop and win a lump of pig), old dears selling bric-a-brac and an old-fashioned steam organ. There was even a coconut shy, for god's sake.



At one point an old Morris Minor drove by and I felt like I was an extra in Heartbeat. But in Bucks, not Yorkshire.

The highlight of the day had to be the dog show. All the villagers' dogs were entered into contests such as 'prettiest bitch', 'owner who looks like their pet' and 'waggiest tail'.

Only one man took it seriously, bossing his wife about while she tried to control a mean-looking Alsation.

The Other Half's parents' dog came third in 'most handsome dog' class while an Alan Partridge-style commentary was provided by a 'local' competing to be heard over the steam organ thingamy.

It was nice to be part of a proper community event, where practically everyone in the village came together to raise money for the village church. A far cry from what passes for community in Silvertown.

And the rural niceties continued into Sunday, when we had a round (is it a round? or chukka? or frame?) of croquet in the Other Half's parents' chocolate-box cottage garden.

I won. Yessss!