Tuesday, 25 May 2010
When I think of summer my mind conjures up village fêtes, bunting, cream teas, sitting in the sun, watching cricket, pint in hand, and swallows swooping in the dusk. Yes, I am secretly 60 years old.
This weekend I went to a genuine, English fête. While lacking in the homemade jam stalls, there was every other kind of food available (including homemade lemonade and ice cream), vintage clothes, jewellery and fairground rides for the children. There was even music. Everyone seemed to be having a very jolly time in the sun, without getting all cross and shouty, which is always nice in London. Look at how much fun these guys below are having ....
My favourite part (aside from the lemonade, ice cream and dog watching) was sitting in the park with friends and one of their sons, 18-month-old Albert. The joy he took from the paper plates we were served food on was similar to my joy at a Chanel sample sale. He kept trying to swap them for scooters and footballs with the other children tottering around.
I rounded off a very English weekend by planting my window boxes full to bursting with geraniums, which make me smile every time I throw open my windows.