The Garden Party

"But - I have an event!"

It was 5:00 pm, I had just dragged my bags into the new cottage, and the Vicar's Garden Party would begin at 6:00. But there was no hair dryer.

The lady on the other end of the phone said,  "I'm sorry about that, Madam, but as you see in the fine print, a hair dryer will not be provided to your cottage. Don't you have a Tesco or a Co-op or something like that where you could nip down and purchase one before the event?"

"I would love to be able to 'nip down' and purchase one. But I have no car to nip. And the garden party..."

"I'm sorry, Madam, but the fine print.." 

We were getting nowhere, and it wasn't really the lady's fault. So I gave up, forgot the hair dryer, and started walking. The Vicar would be waiting.

Have you ever gone to a Vicar's Garden Party? I had come close once, but it was to the Lord of a Manor's kitchen where we were offered cake and coffee. A Vicar's Garden Party would be something altogether different.

I was nervous, a bit, not being sure how one behaved in Vicar's gardens when one is the only American there. But I peered around until I saw Margaret, one of the Alto's from the choir, and attached myself to her. It was the exact right thing to do, because she instantly introduced me to everyone within ear shot, and we were on our way.

The garden party wasn't really that different from gatherings in American back yards. People stood about chatting and laughing, eating potato crisps served out to us by the Vicar's children. They were enchanting. The Vicar lit the BBQ and the choir Master's wife told me about their children who are wonderfully musical, and that she is a niece of JRR Tolkien! and one of her children was named 'Reuel' because of that.

 At some point I needed to find the restroom so the Warden's wife indicated where I might find it. 'Might' is the key word here, for I did not find it. But I did see the downstairs rooms and was thrilled, because the rooms were very like my HGTV shows that tell all about how to replace tile with hardwood and walls are crisply white. It was all so thrilling that I forgot why I was in the house in the first place. Someone finally came and found me.

Eventually the wind became even more of a gale, so after eating a lovely dessert I had never had before (a layered mouse/chocolate item) Margaret and I said our goodbyes and she gave me a ride back. We both agreed it had been a wonderful Vicar's Garden Party, and I told her the Vicar's children reminded me of some other wonderful children from over the Pond, whom the SconeLady very much misses. 

A life with British people and British customs in it can be jolly nice, I am finding. The choir Master's wife glanced over at me while I was explaining something about American people to a small group of British people. She smiled, and I felt that little things like that can cover a multitude of talking heads.

See you along the way!

the SconeLady