The Alma Summer Fayre. Highlight of the school, and my personal, social calendar. Parents gathered on a sweltering Sunday afternoon, even bringing some of their children, in order to raise money for the school. And make awkward smalltalk. After my phone ran out of battery.
With the school growing, this was the first year of the Fayre that the number of parent volunteers manning, or should I say ‘womanning’ - world built of equality - the stalls were outnumbered by attendees. Most of the action seemed centred around the Falafel stand, and for good reason, they were yummy! And the falafel were pretty good as well. Joke! With so many varieties, it was difficult deciding which delicious type to try, but I was politely moved on after an hour. I even went back for another portion later, but even though they’d run out of hummus they wouldn’t offer a discount. Believe me, I shall be bringing that up at the next APA meeting.
With the funds raised obviously going to a great cause, the success of our genes, parents were literally flinging the dosh about. And what better way to celebrate the day than by getting the most expensive temporary tattoo ever. The bouncy castle was free so I mostly hung around there. But trying to police that thing is like trying to herd cats. That are bouncing all over each other, knocking the smaller kittens unconscious.
There was a photographer, kosher ice cream, which is like normal ice cream but without the bacon bits, and lots of stalls selling lovely items, which I marvelled at wondering exactly what cut the school was getting.
No Fayre, or even Fair, would be complete without a raffle though, and some fantastic prizes had been donated. Real quality stuff. Did we win any of it though? No. It was torture. My poor son and I had to wait around for thirty minutes clinging to our blue ticket number 321, which we’d found in a chocolate bar we’d saved up to buy for his birthday, as one by one, the table emptied of all the ticket items. By the time our number was called, all was left was some football cones, some belly button fluff, and our dashed dreams. We chose the cones, taking them home in the very bag from which we’d first donated them.
Still, the reason you’re really reading this is to find out how much money was raised. Well, drum roll, £2551.78!!!!!!!!! That’s a truly brilliant amount of money, and should keep Mr Shoffren in guitar strings for at least six months. So well done all the parents who donated their time, expertise and unwanted belongings. It really was a great success and thanks to everyone who helped organise the day. Apart from the person who ordered the hummus.
By Josh Howie