Friday, March 22, 2019

Marmalade festival



A popular marmalade festival is set to return.

The event will take place at The Barns in Church Road, Michelmersh, on March 23 between 9.30am to 1pm.

There will be cakes, tea and coffee.

The money raised will go towards St. Mary's Church.

There will also be a raffle and home-made marmalades to buy.

Entries must be submitted to the venue between 2pm and 4pm on March 22 and between 8am and 9am on March 23.

There will be no entry fees.

(Romsey Advertiser, 15th March 2019)

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The new vicar of St Mary’s Church beamed round at the assembled charity committee. 

‘Hi guys! So great to meet you all! I’m really psyched to be chairing my very first fundraising brainstorm for the church. I just know we’re going to come up with something super awesome.’

A couple of people smiled weakly. One or two looked down at their tea cups. Alma Greene, vice-chair of the committee, cleared her throat.

‘We always do the same event here in Michelmersh, Vicar. It’s very popular…’

‘Ok, awesome, but how about we shake things up this year? I’ll get the ball rolling.’ The vicar leapt up from his chair and began pacing up and down. ‘I’m thinking big: “St Mary’s Fest.”’ He paused expectantly. Silence and averted gazes. He ploughed on. ‘We take over the village. Put a couple of music stages on the green. More intimate acoustic sets in the village hall. Set up a glamping area on the farm.’

Noises that had started as vague murmurings broke out into vocal protests, led by Alma.

‘That sounds very noisy, Vicar. And dirty.’ 

The vicar looked crestfallen, then rallied.

‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe St Mary’s Fest is a bit too ambitious for this year. That’s cool. No worries guys. I’ve got other ideas!’

A noise that sounded like a groan was quickly turned into a cough.

‘How about a book festival?’

‘Too snooty.’ Alma had clearly set herself up as the committee spokesperson. The rest nodded approvingly.

‘A wine festival?’

‘Too boozy.’

‘Scarecrow festival?’

‘Not a real festival.’

‘Highland games?’

‘Too Scottish.’

‘Mediaeval jousting?’

‘Too confrontational.’

‘Cheese-rolling?’

‘Too smelly.’

The vicar threw his hands in the air. ‘I give in! What on earth is left that isn’t too noisy, boozy, Scottish, confrontational or smelly?'

Alma pulled an old orange-stained cardboard folder out of her bag. ‘Well, Vicar, we’ve got just the thing…’

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