IDEN FETE AND BOOT FAIR: On Saturday 28th July at 12 noon we expect huge crowds at Iden Fete, which is always a spectacle. The fete is held in Iden’s playing field by Iden Parish Church. Donations are needed for RAFFLE PRIZES, and books, clothes, bedding, toys, games, bric-a-brac and small furniture for ‘BARGAINS GALORE’, a very popular venue at the fete [ no electrical goods].

CAKES NEEDED: Cakes, scones, pastries and jams are needed for the fete’s, WI cake stall. All donations would be much appreciated.

THE BOOT FAIR: This begins in the morning, when Iden awakes to the sound of loaded cars approaching the Playing Field. THE FETE ITSELF STARTS AT 12 NOON. There is a feast of entertainment, a bar, a dog show, food stalls, ice cream vans, cake stall, music, dancing, a children’s fun fair, cocoanut shy, cream teas in the Pavilion, everything our hearts desire.

PEOPLE IN RED: Throughout the fete you will see people in red T-shirts, members of the fete committee, helpful people who are there to advise.

TONIGHT, IT’S BINGO AT THE BOWLS: At 6pm, for 6.30, there is bingo at Iden Bowls Club opposite the pub, open to anyone who likes a game of Bingo, a raffle and ‘a cuppa. Something ‘jolly’ for a warm summer evening.

A SERVICE OF HOLY COMMUNION: This Sunday is Family service, combined with Holy Communion and a Baptism. The service at Iden Parish Church begins at 9.30am.

HONEYSUCKLE AND HOLLY HOCKS AND APRONS: Isn’t it grand seeing so much Honeysuckle popping up in Iden’s hedgerows? It’ s one of those flowers with an age-old charm isn’t it? Holly hocks are something else which transport us to the cottage gardens of old. They are so enormously tall [obviously reached the teenage stage and never stopped growing] I never see Hollyhocks without expecting to see a contented old lady in an apron appearing at a cottage door. Flowers provoke so many memories don’t they, and what I say is bring back aprons. There was something so kindly and bustled-looking about a granny in an apron.

PROUD OF OUR BOYS: My aunt once had a budgie who would sit on his perch and say “Good old Chelsea, up the blues, I do love you with all my heart and apple tart and custard” [all one babbled sentence]. Okay, so he got his thoughts a little muddled, but the gist of it was that he supported Chelsea. My Grandad once got so enthralled watching the world cup on TV, that we had to put him to bed. He was sick with excitement. I often think of his little red face as we ladled tea into him. I never fully appreciated until this year just what football does for the morale of our country. To choose a team, support it all your life, and to allow the game itself to be the one thing that gives life particular meaning, is a thought provoking thing. A game of football is something that rich or poor we can all share and appreciate, and this year, whether our boys carry the cup home or not, our team have done so much to restore our national pride. Their maturity has given their huge pay cheques more credence. The maturity of the spectators is nil, and that’s what’s so wonderful. Everyone looks ridiculous, dressed up so that even their own mothers wouldn’t recognise them. Grown men in tears, hug people they don’t even know. Anything goes. There’s that hum in the crowd, and those muffled drum beats. Coming upon this spectacle in the normal course of events, we’d be terrified wouldn’t we seeing people on the tube with a face painted like Mel Gibson in ‘Braveheart. Our lads are playing like the lads of old. All it takes is a can of beer, a bag of crisps and a TV set for so many homes to buzz with expectation. I’ve never been a great football fan, but this year, I’ve been swigging a can of ‘Stella’ with the best of ‘em’!

CONTACT ME: If anyone has anything to add to the Village Voice, please ring Gill Griffin [telephone 01797 280311]