No Socks...

Bastille day was celebrated in Alston this weekend, the whole place went French with shopkeepers wearing berets and stripy t-shirts and we had a few public executions some CanCan dancers and someone tried to get a Citroen 2CV6 working.
The 2CV was fun, it turned over with the kind of rumble usually associated with a full choir of concrete mixers but eventually it gave up (with a growl) and had to be towed away by a tractor.
So much for the French contribution to the motor industry.

We celebrated by drinking French wine and having lots of garlic in the food, which may well keep people away but doesn’t seem to put off the midge and the horse fly (known locally as Cleggs)

Over the weekend there have been many meetings of the locals sitting on the tables on the village green. We mocked Dougal for wearing socks with his jesus sandles and when he had enough we mocked him some more because that’s what you have to do when someone wears socks with sandals.

We had a quick run into Alston just to see the festivities and it gave Kasha a chance to use her new camera. I enjoy taking photos too, but even though I had my camera I did feel that taking many pictures of the teenage girls from Alston Dance Group doing the CanCan may not have been politically correct. So all dance photo’s are courtesy of Kasha, I just watched and clapped.

Sunday was the first game of the quiots season with Garrigill at home against the first of the enemy. Large metal rings that could do a great amount of damage were thrown with a variety of styles and a mixed bag of accuracy at two metal stakes in the ground with much applause and lots of beer going on around the event.

Dougal made up for the sock debacle by winning his round, this doesn’t mean the socks will be forgotten though.

 Meanwhile the leaks have developed rust…It would appear that when this happens you wash them with watered down fairy liquid. I need my leeks in good order.

My ambition to win a leek prize has been modified to an ambition to have my leeks do slightly better than Marks because if they don’t I may never hear the last of it.

Loser to wear socks and sandles Mark….