Sunday May 21st was Kennington village fete. The fete was to be opened by Kate Hoey, MP, and the poster promised much: Punch & Judy, tug of war, stocks, human fruit machine, Eugene’s DJ Masterclass [careful with that wax, Eugene], antiques, live magic, face painting, egg & spoon races. Clearly, with tiki-theme bars and now this, Kennington is the place to be.
Sadly, it was pouring down and so the fete was moved into the church hall. Which unfortunately meant the lack of a tug of war and the egg & spoon races. Punch and Judy did go ahead though, as did the Human Fruit Machine. This was very impressive – I’m mentally storing that idea for some future day when I end up assisting at village/school/church fetes. Next we checked out the magic show. The performer may have had a lot of the Chuckle brother about him but he was pretty good and his patience was commendable. Conjurors have always had to negotiate noisy, bratty kids attempting to reveal the secrets behind their tricks, but having to politely deal with kids answering mobile phones while they are assisting with a trick must surely be a new and unwanted hurdle for the modern entertainer.
Back into the main hall and who should we spot checking out the book stall, but Charles Kennedy, with his young son in a pushchair. One of them was ruddy cheeked, ginger and sucking on a bottle… and the punchline writes itself.
Always on the lookout for clever self-reference, there was no way that I was missing the tombola. 3 tickets for a pound – yes sir! …322 – nope…237…dammit…one left, come on…155! YES! And so here in celebration is a picture of what I won on the game.
Or, if you will, Tombola’s tombola booty:
Special World Cup edition too! Woo! Jules Rimet still gleaming!
EDIT:
Even if you think this entry is rubbish and equivalent to a ticket ending in, for instance, '7' in the tombolablog lottery, it's ABOUT winning on the tombola. Which automatically makes it good.
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