October 30th, 2011

Autumn Fayre

The Catholic school across the way from my old church used to be called Our Lady's. They've now rededicated it to The Blessed John Henry Newman. We were there yesterday for a charity fayre. Odi had booked a stall and was selling her Avon stuff- and Ailz  had the job of transporting her and the merchandise and the two kids. 

It's been ages since I went to one of these dos. I'd forgotten how nice it is to be in that atmosphere of good will.

There was a guy in the school-yard teaching children to drum. Fabi spent the entire day (when he wasn't eating) out there in the circle, banging away.  Christa ran round the hall- whenever we let her- cannoning into people's legs like a little dodgem car, asking to be picked up and graciously receiving gifts which she then threw away.

Odi bought herself a purple coat. It was a child's coat and she couldn't get it to button up at the front but it looked fab. Odi is the Queen of low-budget living.  She shops compulsively, always has new clothes and never seems to spend any money. 

We bought a mirror framed in driftwood.

Last year's fayre (we were told) was a roaring success. This year's wasn't- at least not financially.  There was plenty of bustle but it was mostly stall-holders visiting one another and passing the time of day. Odi made £6.00.

Deus Est Deus Pauperum

So much fuss about a few tents in a churchyard! Why can't the clergy of the cathedral and the city fathers and all the other enrages just look skywards as they hurry past? Why does it offend them so? I really don't believe there's a health and safety issue- and from the images I've seen, the cathedral steps are empty and the gates unblocked. The campers- who seem to be mostly nice,  well-meaning people, latter-day hippies and the like- offer no violence.  What's the problem?

Simple. The people who run St. Paul's are ashamed. They can't bear it that  the scruffs on their doorstep look more like Christians than they do.