Tuesday, 19 July 2011

I jump, catch eggs and break stuff

I jump

I jump a jigged line
to the ring
of a baffled bird
meeting solid air.

An illness, an artwork and several poems ago, our family and some friends went to Belstone Village Fair. It was a typical Dartmoor example of stunning scenery, slightly odd activities and a Heath Robinson approach to organisation.

Plenty of green space to run about in left the adults free to explore the wonders of the stalls:

and, most importantly, the tea tent:

(Free kudos to anyone who can spot an Ent.)

Announcements were made by microphone, amplified by speakers which only worked if you started the car:

All generations joined in for the chaos and hilarious mess of the egg-catching (or not) game, presided over by two very strict but sadly inaudible ladies:

A pair of older gentlemen who took the 'sport' aspect rather seriously ended up sharing the prize with a pair of young girls who said, every time the lines stepped back, 'But I can't throw that far.' We all had a little chuckle. And then pretended not to laugh as a group of boys started smashing eggs over each other's heads.

In an unusual display of inhibition, no adult allowed themselves the wanton fun of smashing crockery:

There's no point; no game - just paying for the pleasure of being allowed to break stuff. The noise alone was a tonic.

And in the universal spirit of a day out, one would normally bury one's father in the sand. However, this being Dartmoor, we used the stocks. Then legged it:

And if ever proof was needed that, even on such a jolly day as this, we have reason to fear our inlaws, this is it:

A more lucid and folklore-based account of the day is here, along with a bunch of other strange but true stuff you have no need of knowing, but will be unable to keep to yourself once you do know.


  1. Lunar,
    How I love the views into your beautiful world. When my kids decide to be farmers, I'm sending them to you because a more beautiful place, I cannot imagine.

  2. Wonderful stuff...and I would definitely have had a go at the Crockery Smash!

  3. Lyra, I'd welcome them. How are you at maths?
    And Christina, I am a little regretful that I let that opportunity pass. We needed you there to break the ice (and more).

  4. Let's practice smashing crockery to prepare for Belstone fair next year. From your Scarey Inlaw. x

  5. Okay PeeBee. Round your place?

  6. Oh, this looks SO fun! How I want to visit the plate-crashing booth!

    What a wonderful day this must have been.

  7. Seems like everyone wants to smash plates. Maybe we should all buy up those horrible ones that are always stacked in chipped piles in charity shops and let loose! We could claim it as a new therapy and Wedgwood can be our guru.

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