Amongst The Tree Wrestling (A True Story)

Last Saturday I helped out at my Grandmother's Christmas Fair.
Know what you're thinking.
Waaaaow, Rassy! How exciting!

Aaah, simple townie. You underestimate these women's cutthroat approach to Church Fundraising.

So I set foot into the small, bright FREEZING Church Hall and I'm immediately bombarded with 'hasn't she grown?'s and 'your the spit of your mother's. All's normal so far. I shouldn't and don't expect anything different from the once or twice a year I go to my mother's home town.
My Auntie and I are on a stall, and when I heard about it I thought it sounded great. Her idea was to have a Christmas Tree with numbered baubles on it. You choose a bauble, get the present with the same number on it. Simple, no? Not with these old ladies. It appears any idea that is not a) Thought up by a certain clique of old ladies or b) traditional to a Christmas Fair (tombola, bric-a-brac, bookstall) is instantly sabotaged from the inside. By my own grandmother no less. No worries, she'll never read this, I don't think she knows the Internet exists. So, instead of numbering the presents, my Grandma WRITES ON EACH ONE WHAT IT IS!!
Nyaaaaaarrgh!!
Why, Grandma?!
WHY??

So basically we got a lot of people asking what the point of it was. We had to explain unfortunately we had no idea. So that was Cloak and Dagger slightly. These old women commit Fair Attraction murder but get away with it because they pretend to be oblivious. Conniving beasts. What's annoying is they're really good actresses.

My brother was on the Name the Bear stall while my mother was helping out at toys. My brother needed a couple of fifties for change and my mum passed them over. Half an hour later she let slip she committed such a travesty, got a severe telling off from the old crone next to her and was sent to get it back. Territorial much? The cash is all going to the same place and in the end there's NO record of who got the most or suchwhat. These women just want any excuse to show off to their chums at the next Ladies Guild they single-handedly paid for the church roof.

Oh yeah, another thing. Bitchyness never dies out. It grows old with you. An argument broke out about who was on which stall. "I'll do it, Peggy!" "But where's Phillipa?" "I don't know but I'm doing it!!"
Peggy walks away and both woman's faces were mirrors. Nose crinkled up, gums showing, teeth bared. Scary scary. Remind me to keep Peggy sweet.

You also might have noticed I didn't do a currently loving up there. That's cause it's down here. There's two. First off, I was kicking myself I didn't have a camera that day, as I saw the one scene that would probably sum up Christmas Fairs all over the country. Santa, boots, beard and all, hanging round the corner out of sight of any kiddies listening intently to the announcements, raffle tickets clutched in gloved hand. Also, I'm currently ecstatic about the fact a woman my Grandma talks to on the bus has caught herself a toyboy with a boat in the Bahamas. Future me, here's to hoping.