Le Fete de Anyone Who Helped at The Pardon Last Year.

They must have made a few bob from The Pardon.  The free booze was diabolical, as usual, but the free food was excellent.  And they don’t need much of an excuse to throw a party around here.  Always in the middle of a field not far from home.  But they did cut the grass first.

Same old same old.  We are all a year older and all still pleased to see everyone.  Apart from the odd expats who never help out anywhere, but somehow manage to get wind of. A few of which I have never even set eyes on.  But that is by the by.  Let’s not be mingy about this.  They might help out this year.

The Pardon is an apology to The Saint of each local Church who has been neglected yet again, so we do have quite a lot of them if you want to do the rounds.  My own particular Saint is Saint Rivalain, and No, I have never heard of him either.  But he does have a very nice little church in his name from once upon a time.

I bailed out at four o’clock because I couldn’t cope with any more of the ghastly booze, and so left Robin Dominic to enjoy himself without having to worry about Mummy.  Hell help his hangover tomorrow.

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