cressing temple

May Day Bank Holiday

So it was a gray old bank holiday Monday that found me in Old Leigh to watch the May Day festival. Entertainment was laid on in the form of Maypole dancing by various troops including the local brownies, who valiantly pranced about without to much confusion and much encouragements from assorted family members.

This valiant effort at entertainment was sandwiched between other exciting spectacles, like watching the mayoress crown a half frozen May queen and her two accompanying by now slightly blue May princesses. They did look very pretty sat on their make shift thrown, but I could not help but feel a little sorry for them that the perceived enjoyment of the event did not match up to the reality. They all made an impressive effort to wave at the gathered crowds but nothing could hide their relief when finally they were allowed to leave their post.


We were also entertained with a variety of strangely dressed Morris dances jigging about in a style I have only seen rivaled on the esplanade of Sidmouth during the Folk Festival week. I realise that much is made across Britten of Morris Dancing but I must confess I rarely find myself moved much above mild disinterest by the prospects of watching late middle aged men in knee highs and bells bobbing backwards and forwards. I think it must be a whole lot more fun when you actually participate in it, but what would I know not being said late middle aged man.

The day improved greatly as the weather deteriorated as a rather bizarre group of men started their reenactment of George and the Dragon. They ran slightly to their own interpretation of the story but it was a great performance given with much gusto and great props. Clearly they were having great fun and I found myself shouting and booing in the best pantomime tradition and the rain began to fall from the sky's.

Of course we had the obligatory late middle aged men prancing but they had stick and swords and looked like they meant business so I guess I can forgive them this small misdemeanor.

The day was finished with a quick pint and a bit of lunch in the pub over the railway bridge, nothing to write home about but it was warm and the service quick and pleasant. We walked back along the seafront past the Essex Yacht Club and Chalkwell train station as the sun tried to peek out though the clouds.

The Big Move - April 5th 2009

So Easter saw me move from my lovely home of 13 years in the sunny old Muff to Southend. It is fair to say that much up heavel ensued as my life was packed into boxes and loaded into the back of a large van, bike, shed, and plant pots included. I can now admit that about the time they took to lifting the shed over the garden wall I decided that I should do a runner and go on a mission for bacon sandwiches. The whole thing was just a little to traumatic to watch on what was already shaping up to be a traumatic day.

On the upside the cat seemed to handle being confined to the car fairly well. I found him a cat lead which acted in much the same way at the toddler walkers my mother used to confine me in as a child. Still it enabled him to roam around the car, use his litter tray and eat his food. I personally found the idea of confining him in a cat box for best part of a whole day, tantamount to cat abuse.

So the day started at 5.30am which is early for any Sunday but it did not take me long to work out that I had made a fundamental mistake in packing the kettle and coffee far to early in the morning! The removal men arrived at 7.45am and we quickly decided that it would be best if we pushed the car (which had been dumped outside my house for three months without tax, tire tread or any sign of being moved by the council) onto the double yellows on the other side of the road. No mean feat but one we achieved with a fair degree of success. Roo arrived shortly after with flask of coffee and we quickly made short progress of packing, loading and cleaning what remained of my home. All was going so well. The removal men pausing to watch the grand prix until there really was no other option but to dismantle the TV and put it in the lorry with the rest of my belongings.

It should be noted that the police arrived to move the car from the double yellows just before nine, not bad considering I had been trying to get rid of the bloody thing for weeks.

So all loaded we set off about 12ish after the afore mentioned bacon butties and headed up the M5. The journey was pretty uneventful, one missed turning, one dredfull cup of coffee and we arrived 10 minutes before the removal men late afternoon. This of course then meant we had the joyful experience of unloading the lorry - I can tell you that my life fits quite nicely into 56 large boxes, one bed, one wardrobe, one chair (to wide for any conventional door way) an assortment of book shelves and a table. The garden does not fit quite so nicely as the removal men will contest to. Oh well you can't win them all.

Being the organised kind of girl that I am, I had the forthort to arrange to stay at my parents and dinner was to be served promptly at 8.15pm we arrived at 8.14pm minus the cat who was hiding behind his chair. It was a good plan after a long day and we got feed, wined and tucked up in bed with the minimum of fuss.

The next day brought the first of many unpacking days. It also brought the first of a few DIY days and I am eternally grateful to my grandad for passing on his power tools. I'm also quite grateful to who ever invented the satnav because that too has made life much easier.

So eventually after much organising and reorganising, putting up some shelves, adjusting the cupboard doors (and draws) so that they opened (and closed again) most things have found a home. The cat has settled in, I'm hoping that he will stop fitting with the fox soon - before it ends in tears! and I have even had a visit from my parents who came for dinner.