Summer Party 2021

Sunday, 01 August 2021 12:00 until Sunday, 01 August 2021 18:00

With lockdown easing delayed, the Summer Party provisionally scheduled for Sunday 27 June has been postponed until Sunday 1st August. Please save the new date.

Further details about the party will follow nearer the date, once we have certainty that a large gathering can go ahead.

Can you offer help? It would be good to hear from anyone willing to help on the day to organise games/activities for children and from performers who would be prepared to provide some entertainment. If you can help in any way, please contact Ann Cowper at annferrier@gmail.com

In the meantime, let’s hope we get the green light (and sunshine!) to picnic together.

Carol Inman
Secretary, Britannia Square Residents' Association 

---

Report

Thanks to everyone who helped make our Summer Party such a great success. After the difficulties of the past eighteen months, our party was well attended and everyone helped to create a very enjoyable, relaxed atmosphere. We were also able to meet some of our new neighbours. After the morning's uncertain weather, the afternoon was warm and sunny, the food was delicious and Springfield's shady garden was a very pleasant place to be.

Thanks to Angela Lanyon, whose poetry was delightful and is always a lovely, humorous focus to our party. She gave us some old favourites and a new piece written for the occasion, all of which can be found below. Thanks also to everyone who helped with the setting up, bringing food and drinks and clearing up. Thanks also to the Wine Club and to John and Liz Prosser for the use of their large gazebos.

We are most grateful to Laura Brown and all at RGS Springfield for their generosity in giving us a free run of their gardens for the day.

Photograph by Robin Dallaway



Angela's Verses, Summer Party, 2021

Oh, I’ll never forget what’s his name
And that nice little cottage in Wales,
Where Chris and Elaine
Got locked out in the rain
And the letters were eaten by snails.

And I’ll never forget Mrs Thing -y
You remember, she came in to do,
And left cigarette ash
In the Cadbury smash
And lost her false teeth in the stew.

And don’t you remember the feller
Who dragged that huge dog on a lead?
How he brought down the cream
Then fell in the stream
And was pulled out all smothered with weed?

Oh, I’m sure you remember that day In September
When Granny fell out of the tree?
She’d climbed up in her vest
To sort out a wasp’s nest
And was stung on the bum by a bee.

Oh I’ll never forget what excitement we had
When the power lines came down in the night
And Chrissie and Fred
Were discovered in bed
And Elaine threw a wobbly with fright.

Oh I’ll never forget wherever it was,
It’s so sad that the cottage burnt down.
If you stay in the sticks
You put up with the pricks
Which is why we all now stay in Town.


Doing the teas

Don’t muddle the spoons, Mrs Perkins,
Those tea towels belong to Miss Jones,
And watch where you putting the gherkins
I don’t want them spilt on the scones.

Now just keep an eye out for Billy
He’s promised to stay by the stall
But he gets that excited and silly
His mother’s gone right up the wall.

I don’t know, this urn should be boiling
What? It’s time for the Brownie’s display,
But all the ice creams will be spoiling
If we can’t get them served right away.

Refreshments, they’re already queuing
I tell you, we’re rushed off our feet.
The first lot of clearing needs doing,
Oh Vicar, you’re here. Take a seat.

The tea urn is always Fay Belper,
Her Mum died and she took it on,
She’ll fair have a fit if some helper
Fills all the pots while she’s gone.

God may have a perfect hierarchy
That’s come down from years long ago
But the parish’s own matriarchy
Is in charge, here on earth, down below.


THE BALLAD OF BLODWEN JONES

`I’m going out,’ the maiden said,
`I’m desperate for some chips.’
And back she came in three hours time
With mud around her hips.

`Now, Blodwen Jones, what have you done,
And where do you think you’ve bin?
To take so long to buy some chips
It really is a sin.

`For goodness sake, don’t carry on,
I had to wait, look, see.
There’s half the village in the queue
That stood in front of me.

’Now, Blodwen Jones, just tidy up,
Your hair looks quite a fright.
No good will come of staying out
And playing round at night.

'Our Blod, had changed,' her father said,
'She’s getting very stout’
He mam said `What can you expect
When she’s a gad about.

’The social worker came and stared
At Ivor in his cot,
`Someone should pay for maintenance,
The State won’t do a lot.’

`I’ve got a cheque,’ our Blodwen said,
`I’ve put it in a frame’'
And so she showed it all about
To everyone who came.

The social worker went away
Her brief was not for slips
That over took the young in heat
Who went out for some chips.


MEMORIES

I remember, I remember
The house where I was born,
Of falling down the cellar steps
Being sick upon the lawn,
Of whooping cough and measles
And chicken pox as well,
And spitting at the boy next door
Who promised not to tell.

I remember, I remember
The aunts who came to stay
With little bags of peppermints,
And a desperate urge to pray
For poor benighted Africans,
They also crocheted mats
And spent the summer afternoons
A snoozing with the cats.

I remember, I remember
And I’d much rather forget
Running home at dinner time
And getting soaking wet.
I recall the pain of chilblains
The ache of freezing feet
Of fires that smoked and belched a lot
But never gave off heat.

I remember, I remember
I was tough in those days,
Or am I just remembering
Through an age related haze?
The past is over, dead and gone,
And better far, I say,
To recollect the bits I liked
And throw the rest away.


For the Residents summer party 2021

It’s a local demolition firm
Their office is discreet,
You won’t go past it casually
When walking down the street,

They’ve got a reputation
For clearing tricky sites
An eager team of workers
Who are often out at night.

'I’ve got a little job for you,'
The caller’s voice was clear,
'I want it done without delay
I’m just fed up to here.’

He thought he recognised the voice
But couldn’t quite connect,
Somehow the very sound of it
Had a stiffening effect.

‘The building’s past its sell by date,
It’s almost dropped apart,
It’s overrun with rats and mice
And rotten to the heart.’

‘It sounds the very thing for us,
We’ll sort it out, my dear,
We’ll get rid of vermin
And leave the area clear.’

‘If it’s all done properly.
You do just what you say,
I have another job for you,
A problem in LA.

’The penny dropped, he knew that voice,
What a fool he’d been,
He’d never heard it on the phone
But only on the screen.

Winter, Fawkes and Winter,
Their logo’s rarely seen
And yet you’ll find them listed
By appointment to the Queen.

All © Angela Lanyon, 2021

< Back to Calendar