Yattendon fete

It’s been a very quiet weekend.  I’ve pottered round my desk, worked up some new envelope designs and caught up with friends.  The seemingly perfect weekend, were it not for the desperate sadness of Saturday’s terrorist attack in London.  I’m sure I wasn’t the only Londoner to wish I lived in the country, tucked away, somewhere safe. 

It seems trivial to show you pictures of the Yattendon fete from last weekend.   But in the spirit of keeping calm and carrying on, that’s what I’m going to do.  Because even though it bucketed down with rain, spirits were not dampened.   Only made more determined to wolf down doorstop wedges of cake in between showers.  The ‘Victoria Sponge Lunge,’ as my Father calls it.  I’d like to point out I eat my cake with a bit more decorum!

The Kennet Morris men were out in full force, jingling in their full regalia.   Waving white fabric with much merriment. 

We swooned over the first plant stall, seduced by the picket fence, bearded irises and alliums.    I’m sure the plant prices halved the moment we turned the corner, not that we minded.   A few purchases down, we headed to look at all the vintage cars.  

After that my camera gave up the ghost, so you’ll have to imagine the Christmas tree lobbing (Yattendon is a Christmas tree estate), brick a brack stalls, and steel band.   A good fete is what we do best here in Britain, come rain or shine.