South Zeal Month

Thursday 1 January 2004. New Year's Day Hunt

It normally begins with a bit of a kerfuffle at the bottom of our drive. When we hear the general scuffling and sniffing about and the clonking of hooves we know it is time to stagger out and see what is going on.

For I suppose the last three years I have wondered whether it will be the last time I see the hunt at The Kings Arms on New Year's Day. But no problem this year anyway. A crowd gathers to enjoy a glass or two of something or other and there is a general sense of 'Hail Fellow Well Met'. It is all quite quiet and low key really. The main entertainment is the Master who backs his horse into Richard whose drinks tray goes flying. Oh well, we will all have to have one extra to defray the cost!

The horn goes, the hounds yelp, and away they all go.

I will see them again next year, I hope.

Sunday 4 January. Brawling

Oooooohhhh dear! We have had quite a few pleasant sessions in the Kings Arms 'learning' how to brawle but somehow we never thought we would ever actually have to do it for real. The idea was always such a pleasantly vague prospect.

But here we all were, starting at the Seven Stars at midday, prancing about like a load of, well, mediaeval brawlers I suppose, before any one of us had had a chance to have a drink and view the whole thing in a rather different light. In truth I think we rather enjoyed it; and our audience had little time to ruminate on what they had just witnessed as the Sticklepath Mummers got cracking with their even more incomprehensible play.

At the Taw River, now with a beer or two's worth of confidence, we were rather more lively, beginning to realise that some dances (the bottom waggling brawle in particular) were more popular than others. So by the time we tottered into the Devonshire there were as many volunteers as original dancers and we took over the Queen's Highway.

We collapsed back into the Kings for a final performance and determined, amidst the haze, to repeat the event at St George's Day. We'll rue the day!

Friday 9 January. Arthur Madders funeral.

I was, and am, appalled by the loss of Arthur. The church was full up. I was not surprised. I take the rather simple view that if you live somewhere you should, almost as a matter of duty, give what you can to your community, and Arthur was an amazing example of that in a major way. He believed in it, and got on with it. No wonder there was standing room only.