The Village Show

Before a retired clerical friend posted on Liber Faciorum a few weeks ago about receiving one from someone in his current village, I had no idea tromboncine even existed. Which end do you blow in, I thought. Now they suddenly seem to be everywhere; there was an entire (small) table of them at the Swanvale Halt Village Show yesterday, mostly apparently entered in the Show by children who must particularly enjoy watching their weird shapes developing.

The Show was a spectacular success; I can safely say this as I had nothing to do with it. For years it was organised by the Simpsons, a lovely couple from the congregation. Then last summer Jenny Simpson was diagnosed with an aggressive brain tumour and by November she was gone. Not surprisingly Andy, her husband, had little stomach for anything after that, and in fact has more or less left the village: he worships at Portsmouth Cathedral now, as they had a flat there, much to my relief as I've seen too many good souls lose their faith after a bereavement. It's a new team that put together the Show this year. Entries were up a third ('the highest since records began' - though records go no further back than 2014, admittedly) and the church made an unprecedented £700, not that we do it to raise money. Most importantly, people enjoyed themselves and we reminded ourselves how community is built up - especially important as our garage is to close and we may well lose our pharmacy before the end of the year, too.