Harvest Festival

This week we had the Primary School Harvest Festival in one of our beautiful local churches. It was a crisp, sunny Autumnal morning.
The children streamed into the church, class by class, some pushing and shoving, some grinning, some sucking thumbs.
The parents packed out the back of the church and the vicar welcomed us all to such a lovely occasion.

The orchestra struck up a light rendition of "Always take the weather with you", the saxophones and violins joined the throng and it was a light tune no longer. The volume of the extra instruments drowned out the others and the timing went totally to pieces. The rosy cheeked singers began to look flustered, but battled on.
Darling Husband and I shook with laughter, two Mums behind us made strange wheezing and whining noises, thankfully drowned out by the sax.

For Daughter number 3, this was her first experience of being involved in a Harvest Festival. Of course she had attended to watch her bigger sisters in previous years. The last one was 2006.
Our Head doesn't encourage pre-school children at these events because she feels the noises they make can be off-putting for their older siblings. Parents of course, ignore the advise saying their poppets will behave in an exemplary manner.
I was fortunate to never get 'the look' from the Head mainly because I always waited to go into Church last and stand next to the door, so I could leave the minute there was the slightest grumble.
But alas, all good plans...
In 2006 I waited to go in last, chatting to the Vicar.
The Vampire was with us because she had a day off her new school for some reason(she left Primary a year early), but all her classmates (46 of them were there).
We walked in together and I stood by the door, squashed with other parents.
All 46 of the Vampires classmates started whispering her name loudly.
The Head frowned. (It was not the thing to do, taking her out a year early)

Mr Vicar "Ah, Frog, don't stand there with daughter number three, come up to the choir stalls with me"
Oh, so I was taken by the man himself, paraded past the Head (frowning) and sat behind the pulpit.
Whew, I was out of sight of the Head, Daughter number three could wriggle and make a bit of noise and I'd be ok, but I was a bit bothered about being so far from the door in case of screaming.
The children all did their stuff beautifully, and often out of tune.
The vicar teased Daughter number three and was no help whatsoever on the discipline front.
But the finale, oh, it was good.
A very lovely lady from the village (My old Economics teacher at Grammar School) asked to stand next to the pulpit and congratulate the children on money raised for a well-fund in Africa. She talked eloquently about the children it would help and the whole Church fell silent to hang on her every word.
Daughter number three decided it was time to go and leapt from my lap.
She marched up directly behind lovely lady ex-teacher and shouted 'HA!!' while doing a star jump.
Vicar laughed hysterically
Vampire choked and spluttered
Daughter number three grinned (while being yanked sideways)
Lovely Lady took no notice whatsoever
Head frowned.

A lovely Blogging buddy asked me a few weeks ago, "is what you say on your Blog about your mother true?"
It's all true....all my stories are true, in camp Frog there's no need to exaggerate.