grumpyf1

Every now and again, in this funny old existence we sometimes refer to as life, you see something that causes your fragile grip on a belief in human goodness to release so suddenly, it’s a surprise you can’t hear the thud of it hitting the floor. Last Saturday, I found myself in Arnside Village Hall (where time stopped around 1955), assisting the lovely Mrs G in the running of a charity coffee morning. Utilising all my talents to the full, I wore a plastic apron so gaudy even Lady Gaga would turn it down as a bit over the top, and proceeded to wash up cups and saucers, and occasionally serve tea and coffee, although that stopped fairly quickly when I spilt most of the tea on the counter each time. It was the teapot, honest. From my position in the kitchen, I could see my way through the serving hatch into the hall, where the smashing cakes were. The visitors got a cuppa, and a choice of cake, for the very reasonable sum of £1.50 to get in. Bit of a bargain, I reckon. There ...