“What century are you living in?” – a blog observer jested recently.
To be sure, there are times when I am uncertain myself, and find myself pondering, rather delightfully and blissfully, this self-same question. Perhaps, the best and most accurate answer is: “A kinder and gentler one than the present.”
In so many ways, my life in Barford does seem to be caught within a time warp. My experiences here are light years from the life I led not so long ago in New York City. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.
“Visit the sunny village of Barford where you can experience a little taste of the country.”
So read the advertisement for the Barford Village Show. And the advert did not lie! The Village Show is a massive undertaking that occurs here on the August Bank Holiday weekend, but only happens every four years - such is the magnitude of its scale and scope.
This year was our first experience of the Village Show. And, the DEB and I were both staggered and amazed by the level of commitment, drive, energy, enthusiasm and creativity displayed and required by everyone involved.
The village truly came together and pulled off quite a remarkable show. “This is just one of those things that we do very, very well.” So said my fellow WI-er, June. And, by golly she was right!
Visitors to our tiny corner of Warwickshire were treated to an array of funny scarecrows; home-made cakes and pies; skits and sketches; performances on the village green; strolling musicians; characters in costume; allotment tours; competitions for Best Vegetables, Flowers & Painted Stones; “Guess the weight of the Piglet” contest; a series of indoor and outdoor entertainments; pony rides; Hog Roasts; BBQs; art exhibits; antique stalls; local produce sales; and two historical exhibitions of wedding dresses and drama group costumes. There were also special church services, and prize-winning, guest bell-ringers from across the County ringing the church bells over the course of two full days.
The DEB and I contributed – exhausted though we were, having just returned the day before, from our two-week holiday – to the Village Show efforts of the Drama Group, Church and WI.
On Sunday, I served on the altar at the 8:00 am service – in my new alb, which FINALLY arrived!! This meant being up, awake, alert and at the church by half 7. (Oy vey.) Thank goodness, it’s just across the road.
In the afternoon, we both performed at a matinee of “Songs and Verses” the proceeds of which (over £200, I think) went to the Warwickshire and Northamptonshire Air Ambulance. The DEB sang and played two numbers on his guitar (he has such a beautiful voice *SIGH*).
I panicked for 24 hours, and fretted about what to do and in the end, realised it’s always best to stick with what you know. So – I donned one of the Drama Group’s Elizabethan costumes (with a gorgeous hat, of course!) and performed a selection of Shakespeare sonnets. After that, a stroll about the Village as a “costumed character.”
The highlight of the Village Show for me was the “Wedding Dress” exhibition sponsored by Barford WI. I mean, who doesn’t love wedding dresses? But, more importantly, our display of wedding dresses also provided a very unique illustration of social and cultural history in the live of the Village.
It was also just really fascinating to see how each dress expressed the style, persona and personality of the owner. Sue Tompkins’ early 1990s ensemble – complete with a cotton dress in dark green floral pattern ; and a pair of large, black, leather Dr. Martens boots – was the real show stopper of the exhibition!
This was one of those truly lovely WI moments, as we all gathered on Saturday, armed with our boxes, treasures, pictures and memories. Talk of how times and styles have changed – or not. And how society has changed.
For example, I recall one woman musing as she regarded another’s elaborate gown: “How lovely. Yes, I couldn’t wear a dress like that, ours was a second marriage in the 1970s.” Times have changed for the better, in some ways at least. And of course, it was just nice to be able to give the dress a second outing!
The organiser of the “Scarecrows” had asked us if we might participate in that event, but we decided that we rather wait, and see what it was all about first. I’m glad we did.
The Scarecrow displays were very serious business! The art and skill that went into them was incredible. There was one scarecrow modeled on our wonderful, wonderful postman, Steve.
The “Postie Steve” scarecrow was amazing! It had been masterfully painted, and looked just like him. When you walked passed the scarecrow, the motion was detected, and activated a sound system that began to play that old hit: “Wait a minute, Mr. Postman.”
Very clever.
My one disappointment from the Village Show experience was that I did not have my act together enough to submit an arrangement to the Floral Competitions. For some reason, when I had previously read through the Village Show materials I had failed to spot the “Best in Show” for Flowers.
I knew lots of people who were submitting veggies to the competition, but didn’t notice anything about flowers! Which is a shame, really, as my white, antique rose has done so well this year. I have no doubt I would have garnered a place!
Oh, well, there’s always 2014…
I think the greatest thing about the Village Show was, and is, well, the village itself and the people in it. People really came together, went all out and gave ceaselessly of their time, talents and resources to make the Village Show a success. That comes down to pride, I think, and a real love of this timeless place we call home.
Mrs. Macbeth was lying in wait for me on my way home from the gym.
“My dear, we must, must, must settle your flowers. The time is drawing near and I must know what you want.” Mrs. Macbeth is the responsible for all floral arrangements and decorations at St. Peter’s Church. She is actually quite an amiable person, truly quite lovely, warm and funny. But, when she is on a mission, she is a force to be reckoned with.
It seems that the flowers for our wedding have been top of Mrs. MacB’s list for quite some time. I appreciate her attentiveness, but have found myself welting under the “Decide now!” pressure that ensues whenever we encounter one another in the village shop, at church or in the street.
There was no escape. This time she had caught unaware and unguarded. And without my D.E.B. there, to charm and diffuse the situation. Thankfully, I was a bit more prepared this time.
Normally, when Mrs. Macbeth has caught me, I have become an incoherent jumble of nervous, barely capable of stringing a complete sentence together. “…Tulips?” I’d stammer meekly. “Oh, no! ” Mrs. MacB. would exclaim soundly. “Hy, hydrangeas?” I’d try again. “Goodness no! That’s a late summer flower!” she explains. “I really like Lillies of the Valley, they…” I struggle to find my voice. “My dear,” she’d break in firmly. “You really must go away and think this through. Every flower you seem to want is for a different season than the one your wedding’s in.”
Today, however, I was prepared. On Tuesday, the D.E.B. and I visited a lovely little florist shop in the tiny Warwickshire village of Kineton. The shop, which is called “Flower Thyme,” is run by a petite and perky woman called, Jill. Jill is a bundle of energy, and her bright, blue eyes sparkle when she smiles.
“Helloooo!” she greeted us at the door of her shop with a big smile. She remembered us from our brief meeting at the Wedding Fayre at The Glebe Hotel last month. “Let’s talk flowers!”
In my next life, I’m going to be a florist. (And without my hayfever and pollen allergies.) What a great life. Surrounded everyday by nature’s beauty, sounds pretty fabulous to me. It seems a great job, and Jill clearly loves it. She had stacks and stacks of photographs for us to look at, and well as several fresh bridal bouquets for me to test-drive. (Which I enjoyed immensely.)
I immediately fell in love with a beautiful nosegay bouquet made of lisianthus, ranunculus, roses and freesia. The flowers were all in shades of ivory, with touches of green provided by tiny springs of eucalyptus and lamb’s ear. Although I had walked in determined to order lavender roses, I kept being drawn to the white lisianthus bouquet. “I think that’s the one for you.” Jill smiled broadly, eyes twinkling. I had to agree, there was something so elegant about the creamy, white flowers.
I loved the bouquet as it was, but requested a few add-ins: instead of lamb’s ear, I have requested springs of English ivy, myrtle and rosemary. I chose myrtle because I’d read somewhere that Queen Victoria had myrtle in her bridal bouquet (myrtle and orange blossoms, in fact). If it was good enough for her, than why not?
As for the rosemary, apparently, in ancient times, brides carried this herb in their bouquets to ward off evil spirits. (Hey, whatever works.). And, of course, as Ophelia says, “Rosemary, that’s for remembrance.” (Had to get some Shakespeare in there, somewhere.)
The D.E.B. liked the look of lisianthus as well, and decided to have that as his buttonhole flower. (His groomsmen will wear lilac lisianthus in their buttonholes, the D.E.B.’s will be white.)
We had such fun together picking flowers with Jill, and she informed us that she has a wealth of experience dealing with “church ladies” in charge of flower arranging. Jill reckons she’s mastered the fine art of working with women like Mrs. Macbeth: “Oh, you know. Their hearts are in the right place. They just really care a lot, that’s what you’ve got to remember. They want your day to be as beautiful as we do.” Jill said.
She added: “I know the best way to handle ‘em. Drop the flowers off, and run away as fast as I can!”
Throughout this early and very intense stage of wedding planning, I have learned one clear and valuable lesson: “No bride is an island.”
No matter how smart you are, or how smart think you are, you can always benefit from the knowledge, wisdom and experience of others.
Obviously, a lot of the advice that one is given when one is a “Bride-to-be” is often a load of old rubbish and nonsense. Such as the email I received from a friend (and I use the term loosely) of mine, who wrote recently with advice about Bridesmaids. To illustrate her point, she included the following, a picture she found on a bridal blog she’s a fan of:
Her advice: “Choose your bridesmaids carefully, make sure they are all shorter and fatter than you. And, everyone knows the drill. Pick a ridiculous color and a god-awful design that no one looks good in.”
It was only after reading this message that I began to contemplate just how and why the sender counts me amongst her friends…because I’m shorter and fatter than she is, perhaps? Hmmm….
Well, I discarded that advice from my mind, as swiftly as I deleted her message from my inbox. From the ridiculous to the sublime, wedding advice runs the gamut. As does, I’m proud to say, wedding support. Barford in a very small English village, in a small English county. Not much happens here, but there is always a lot going on. And a village wedding is big news.
As if I weren’t “novelty factor” enough, I now carry the mantle of “upcoming Bride-to-be.” This quite happily translates into one receiving sweet, little missives regularly through the door. Short, handwritten notes of advice with names and phone numbers of people I should contact, speak to, get to know, and etc. And, more importantly being a Barford bride-to-be means I am routinely invited round to bright, warm living rooms or cosy kitchens for countless cups of tea and girlie conversations about wedding invitations, music, flowers dresses and honeymoon plans.
There is something about weddings, isn’t there? We women love them. No, I mean we really love them! I remember, (was it last year?) when Elizabeth Hurley got married and had three different wedding ceremonies, with at least 5 different dresses! The press scowled and poo-pooed her, but not me. “Lucky cow!” I thought. I mean, who wouldn’t jump at the chance to wear each one of the wedding dresses you like, and every pair of wedding shoes you want, but no, the rest us have to settle for one dress, one day. Well, phooey!
And, as it happens, I’ve lived part of my life as a professional Theatre director, so “putting on a show” is in my blood. It makes difference whether the “production” is Off-Off Broadway or a small village wedding, the principle is the same: It’s all about the details.
I’m very thankful I’ve got a team of people (dare I call them my Village People?) pushing me on the details.
Graham, Ron and Phil. No, they are not a Beatles tribute band. These three chaps are my best mates at the gym. Between them, their average age is 70; and on one of my first days at the gym Ron beamed at me proudly, and said: “Bet you can’t tell which ones of us have had hip replacements.”
These fellas keep me motivated, and honest. When I feel weary and fed-up, they cheer me on. When I’m late coming into the gym in the morning, a merry rebuke or two comes my way from the treadmills. I admire their chutzpah and their skills. These guys are no joke. They are there before I get there, and they are still working out long after I’ve thrown in the towel, and headed off for a cup of tea and wedding talk.
The “tea & talk” support team are super, too. Diane, my sassy Scots friend, is spear-heading the “wedding favor” crusade. I have decided to give jars of marmalade or jam as our wedding favor. As we are leaning toward lavender as the wedding theme colour, I thought, naïve, novice jam-maker that I am, that it might be clever to produce a lavender jam/marmalade as a gift to give our guests.
Di loves a challenge, and she was all over this project in no time. She’s planning to experiment next week with a “Lemon Lavender” recipe we found online last week. Over coffee and chocolate biscuits – I resisted as best I could—we discussed wedding music. Di is a huge Lesley Garret fan, so we talked arias. It’s so nice to have people in my life with whom I can really discuss classical music.
(I’ve had some rather zany ideas about music lately. I’m toying with the idea of walking down the aisle to “O Mio Babbino Caro” better, and for me, more importantly, known as: “The Theme from the film ‘A Room with a View.’”)
On Tuesday, after the gym, I went round to Sally’s for tea. Sally’s another amazing woman. (We need to get her into Barford W.I.) Sally is an actor, who has performed and lived previously in the U.S. and Canada. There is something about theatre people, isn’t there? I mean the world over, we’re just part of one big global tribe. She’s one of those people that you meet, and you swear you’ve known them before. And she makes a fantastic tea-cake. I could not resist. We spent the afternoon bouncing around wedding ideas, mainly about flowers.
Thinking I may copy Liz Hurley and carry a lilies of the valley bouquet. Lily of the Valley is such a beautiful flower, and it has such an incredible smell. I like the idea of having flowers that carry a strong scent – okay, a no-no for allergy sufferers, like myself—but, at least theoretically, I like the idea of making this a very sensuous—as in feast for the senses—event.
Oh, it’s just fun, isn’t it? I hope in the midst of the chaos, and the inevitable onslaught of “To Do” lists and deadlines that all of this continues to be fun.
