Mrs Down's Diary

WE are suffering from a plethora of parties. At least I think that's what you call it. Three parties on the trot in one weekend is just too much of a good time, especially when there is still silage to bag and haytime creeping up on us.

Party number one was in the village. Held in one of the recent barn conversions. At least, I thought it was recent until they told us they had been in the village for 11 years and I realised with an uncomfortable jolt how quickly time flies.

There was a marquee, roast, bands and sing-ers. And rain. Lots and lots of rain. The longest day of the year and the coldest and wettest I could recall. Just imagine if it was your wedding day. All that planning and then appalling weather.

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But the guests certainly did not let it dampen their exuberance for a celebration. Nor did their ducks. They have a superb pond, complete with decking and summerhouse.

A bit more upmarket than our fishing hut made of pallets. John looked very edgy the whole time. He thought he knew what was coming the minute we left. . . "Why can't we have. . .?" So I surprised him and didn't ask.

For full feature see West Sussex Gazette July 16

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