Still chasing my tail on this multi-faceted blog. Now I am going back to last Sunday in my attempt to bore unsuspecting blog visitors to tears and catch up with myself. Sunday was the day of our annual street party. The road was blocked off at both ends and chairs and tables were placed in the middle of our fresh tarmacadam. A lot of people came out with drinks and cakes, salads and bread rolls. There was even a tray of homemade scotch eggs. At the risk of making John Gray of Welsh Wales green with envy, those scotch eggs were mouth-watering little blighters - far better than any shop bought scotch egg I have ever consumed. To die for as some are wont to say.
Your blog host was in charge of the barbecue, fending children off with my trusty trident and most happy to say again and again "They are not ready yet!" as I turned the sizzling burgers and prodded fat sausages, ensuring that they didn't slip to cremation in the white hot coals beneath the grill.
There was face painting and ball games and lots of gossip as neighbours caught up with one another. Old mixing with young and long time residents meeting the new. Sadly, Norma didn't join us. She is ninety this year and gets about on one of those electric mobility scooters. She has lived in the same house for eighty six years - moving in with her parents in 1929 soon after it was built . After World War II she met her husband to be - Paul - an evacuee from Czechoslovakia - and soon he moved in with Norma's parents who later passed away. About ten years ago Paul himself died and Norma has lived on her own ever since. Her only son is a veterinary surgeon in Never Never Land (i.e. Lancashire). In spite of her physical frailty, Norma remains as bright as a button and remembers just about everything. A shame she didn't make it to our street party.
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| Another long term resident - Thelma to the right with her best friend Marge. |
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| Eight year old Sophie is lying in the road next to our verge. Little Evan is watching over Adrian - his plastic headed dolly. |
It was the sixth annual street party and the weather was again kind - if a little blowy. At one point the mischievous wind caught one of the trolley barbecues and blew it over but the day was saved by The Head of Barbecuing who bravely righted the toppled cooking facility with some oven gloves and courageously swept up the glowing coals to warm applause from those assembled... and I wasn't even included in The Queen's Birthday Honours List! Can you believe it?
Please enlighten this poor ignorant colonist - what is a "Scotch egg"?
ReplyDeleteMary - Go to:- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scotch_egg
DeleteIt is a peculiarly British savoury item to which fellow blogger Mr John Gray of "Going Gently" is physically addicted. He can't go two days without a scotch egg "fix".
This looks great and it didn't rain.
ReplyDeleteOne year it rained so we all trooped off to the nearby church hall but that's The British Isles for you isn't it? You never know what you are going to get.
DeleteDid you need a permit to block your street off for the party YP? Sounds like fun ~ though child lying on bitumen road is a bit disturbing ~ when there is grass right there??? Go figure ~ kids huh?
ReplyDeleteYes. We had permission and it's easy for cars to find another route. It had to happen on a Sunday.Unlike Cairns, our bitumen rarely melts with the heat but I agree the grass would have been more comfortable.
DeleteYes, but you can lie on the grass any day but lying on the road ? that's not possible except on special days....and it's warm too!
DeleteNext time you are lying in your road Helen please be careful as Tony might think you are a sleeping policewoman.
DeleteA street party! What a lovely way for everyone to get together!
ReplyDeleteThe majority of time there are only six of us who live in my little dead-end lane-way/court (sometimes, eight, I think!). It'd be a pretty boring old affair if we had a street party. Two of the couples don't like each other very much...so there'd be only old Ernie and me trying to keep the fun alive. And if that was the case, I'd be making a lot of noise shouting out loud because dear old Ernie...a lovely fellow...who is now in his early nineties is quite deaf these days!
You could liven it up with some strippers and a bowl filled with hallucinogenic drugs Lee!
DeleteTried that, Yorky! Didn't work! ;)
DeleteWhat a nice tradition. We all should do this as these days neighbourhoods aren't as friendly as they used to be. Luckily we have nice neighbours on three sides but would not recognise the people across the street if I met them down the street. A bit sad really.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was a kid in my East Yorkshire village I literally knew everybody. In those days the population was around 350.
DeleteGreat event. There should be more of these where people mix, get to know each other and begin a solid community relationship which brings about security.
ReplyDeleteSuch events can also bring about illicit extra-marital affairs Red.
DeleteA street party, how lovely! I just about know a handful of people living in the same street. There are blocks of flats on the other side of the road where I don't know anyone. And last time I tried to invite everyone living in the same building (two semi-detached houses, six flats in all), it was a failure. I posted about it here. Won't be trying that again anytime soon.
ReplyDeleteAt least you tried Meike. It is a shame that in cities and large towns there is often a lot of social dysfunction. How much nicer it is when people know each other.
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