The poppy project is starting to take shape. Apart from that, it’s been a strange day – D minus 47, or minus 13 if you count days we will actually meet.
Fortunately the group is taking it well, with a few mutterings about farmers and plenty of discussion about what they are going to replace us with. It’s a little sad to be so easily replaced but that’s just how it is. In another way, I was thinking that it’s good that we have taken them to this point and they feel happy to embark on a new venture. Β If this had happened a few years ago I’m sure we would have had more trouble about the change.
We’re not finished yet, as we’re still looking for somewhere to go, though we’re driven by optimism more than reality.
Dave, one of the founders, came to visit. He was working with Julia at the council when his contract came to an end and she decided she was fed up of constantly re-applying for her own job. The rest, as they say, is history. He’s been ill for a while, but is now on the way to recovery. That brightened the day, as the group always likes to see him. We’re going to get Men in Sheds to help repair his old electric wheelchair, which is currently refusing to go in the same direction as the joystick.
It seems like a small enough fault, but in the context of a man who likes to get out and about this represents the very narrow margin between sightseeing on a river bank and being featured in a high profile emergency rescue.
He’s challenged me to a wheelchair race when he gets it fixed, so watch this space.
Vicki brought the poppies in from the Barnstone Brownies, so the display is looking good. She’s really put a lot of effort into this, with making poppies and doing research – shame we won’t be able to build on it for next year. I’m thinking of burying the poppies after we’ve used them. It will be both an artistic statement, and an ancient military tactic: there is so much salt in them that the new tenants, with their promised landscaping, may find there is a permanent bald patch where little will grow.
We’ve also been doing a bit of packing, some Christmas planning, and rehearsing the Christmas entertainment. That might be better expressed as Christmas “entertainment” as a bit of Bollywood style belly dancing, a carol (yet to be decided) and a rendition of I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconutsΒ is going to have an uncertain effect on the audience.
Finally, we have a picture of me wearing a hat from the lost property. According to Julia I look like the oldest of the Lost Boys. I’m not sure how to take that. If it’s a reference to Peter Pan it’s probably OK, but if it’s a reference to the film I’m not so keen.

The Oldest Lost Boy
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I must have missed a post or two; very sad to hear you’ll be leaving this gig. Will we still be treated to your gentle sense of humour in blog form?
I will be carrying on blogging, either here or pies-and-prejudice.com π
I have clearly missed an important post. Your time at the farm is running out?
Yes, the farmer needs more money so he is going to rent out the centre. We were going to use the kitchen but last week he gave us notice to quit for 31st December as he has had an offer on the kitchen.
Bastard
No need to sugar-coat it Derrick… π
π I’m cackling here.
π
I like your idea of burying the poppies. I also like the hat.
π Ssdly the hat has now gone to a charity shop.
Glad that at least there is some optimism around!
Optimism is the only choice!
This is so sad. I think you’re taking it all better than I.
No choice really, I’m not going to make myself ill with worry. π