“Friends” Meeting

I come from a long line of people that do things.

Mum was our village WI secretary for 9 years, helped organise the village carnival and church events.  Like his father and his father before him, Dad was treasures of the village Reading Rooms (aka village hall), helped organise the village carnival, campaigned and raised funds for a swimming pool at my secondary school (which I never used), was a member of the British Legion and sold poppies for half a century.  Granma and Great-Grandma were ‘big in the Mothers’ Union’.  Grampa and Great Grampa were founder members of the local angling association.  There may be other stuff I know nothing about.

All this may explain why, even though both boys left five years ago, I am still involved in Friends of Treegrass School.  I am no longer secretary but still keep getting drawn back in to organise events.

There are four of us who do most of the heavy lifting. 

Even though we keep telling current parents and teachers that we’d be delighted to hand it all over no one volunteers. 

So we soldier on.

Unsurprisingly we sometimes get a little fed up and have to let off steam.

After our last meeting I made these notes in my Journal (aka My Little Red Book)

It contains some frankly foul and unladylike language

Yesterday to Treegrass for Friends meeting planning the Summer Fair.

There are some people within, and without, the School who do nothing but feel they can complain or comment on what isn’t provided at the Fair.  This really pisses us off.  

My feeling is, if you feel something, or a particular thing, is missing or needs doing, then get off your fat arse and do it.  Don’t judge the people who have done, and are doing, quite enough thank you.

As Mrs Bursar said

“I’m not a nice-to-have person.  I’m a what-do-we-need person.   We need money.   

This isn’t a Family Fun Day.  This is a fundraising Fair.  You’re not here to have fun, you’re here to give us your money.  Just come in, have something to eat, buy something – then fir cough.  And if you buy a raffle ticket have the courtesy to hang around until it’s drawn, so I don’t have to ring you on Monday morning when your bunch of flowers are deed.”

“Yes” says Mrs Bun “you don’t even have to speak to us, or even look at us, just give us your money and push off.”

“Like Fester” I said “He brings Ferrefingers, he has a hot-dog, Fester buys some cakes from you and a raffle ticket from me , then he buggers off.”

“That’s what we need” says Mrs Bun “More people like your husband.”

It’s not often you hear that.

The next thing on the Agenda was the volunteers and stalls list.

“I’m putting Mrs Rose on bric-a-brac” says Mrs Bursar “or bits-of-shit as I like to call it.”

Then there are the people who just turn up on the day to volunteer who we don’t know from Adam.  It’s nice to have a spare body but we don’t know what to do with them.   

As I said:

“Some people can’t understand the concept of a tombola.  Even after you’ve explained it to them three times.  Tell you what Mrs Bursar, if anyone does turn up on the day stick them on bric-a-brac with Mrs Rose.  They can’t do any harm there and you always need another hand.”

Handwritten on the Staff Room Volunteer Sheet was “Diane and her Surprise Bags.”

No one knows who Diane is or what surprises lie in her bags.

And, as we explained to the Deputy Head, we need to know for health and safety if nothing else.

I was feeling really low and shabby before the meeting, but they didn’t half cheer me up.