Run 1159

Sunday 14 July 2013

SUMMER POSH NOSH

Emberton Country Park

Parents: Count Roadkill & Double Entry

CELEBRANTS: 40

It was known from the start that Summer PoshNosh, born sister to the talented and successful Christmas PoshNosh, would be a difficult child.

Conceived from a one night stand allegedly involving Shuffle Cock, the fledgling was ripped in a sort of mental C-section from the brain of Count Roadkill only to spend its first year ridiculed, her birthday anniversary ignored. The introduction of Supernanny Double Entry turned things around and all involved in her upbringing were as pleased as Punch as we celebrated her second birthday in fine style.

We all thrill to see disciplinarian DE in action: this was her biggest challenge, her toughest task, her greatest triumph. The first thing she did was to send The Count to the Naughty Step and there he stayed drinking Double Dragon until the end of the party. Next she identified environment and nutrition as key and brought in teams of experts. Subby, Lost Cause, Shagpile and Capt F transformed Emberton Park with just a little help from the exile of the RA. Lady P, Twicza and Frau Krafty Rot provided the Super Nosh, a classic Summer feast on tresil tables. The rest was down to lists, spreadsheets and kindness: Supernanny herself was now in her element.

The Event worked like a Swiss clock – at one time like a Swiss clock that had forgotten to buy the smoked salmon, but a dash to The CoOp sorted that – and all and sundry enjoyed a tremendous afternoon in the sun. Summer had grown, against all odds, into a lovely child.

Enough. The purpose of these here Wurdz is to record the run such as we did it. It was hot. It was very hot and this was bad enough for the 33 of us that followed the trail we started at noon. But imagine what it was like for those finishing the Triathlon taking place in the Park that morning (and for Stephen Harrison who had swum 1.2 miles in 26 minutes, cycled 56 miles in 142 minutes and run a half marathon in 78 minutes by then). A little embarrassing to say the least to share a stage with these giants, but the authorities had told us they would be done by the time we started. Well done, in some cases.

Leaving Park and athletes behind we navigated the lovely Olney Church and passed some cottages. This gave Forking a chance to strike up an acquaintance with a local resident who seemed to be quietly practising piano in her lounge. But that's Forking for you.

Off to follow the Ouse and encounter what must be a rare breed of river-loving cattle. Cattle that also seemed to want to use the trail's short-cut to dally along and at times fornicate on. Fortunately your Count was on short-term release from the Naughty Step and able to show off his cow-herding skills.

Then, like a herd of wildebeest migrating across the savanna, the hash moved south and slowly but still nervously crossed the styles-in-urgent-need-of-repair and returned to the Park where the Triathlon spectators were in such delirium they cheered on Twiglet and Shuffle Cock.

Most of the Hash passed the ice cream shop without spoiling their luncheon with a purchase, but Capt F and Tarzan failed miserably in this respect. And then we ate, we chatted, we drank, we had a lovely time and Supernanny regaled us all, each and every one, with gifts, especially chosen and wrapped, just to show how good we had been. (She asked me not to mention the down-downs as that's so negative, but we do need to say how naughty Knotch was to knick a tri number and pass it on to Forking.)

The Pecker family were out in force and in fine form as father's forties faded fast and fifty found him fit & fabulous. We helped him celebrate his half century in the traditional way – by implying he is old. Pah!

Positively. Pussies Galore, Gorjoyce and Bangers were Best in Show; your hares would like to thank Smitho, Shuffle Cock and Twiglet for actually trying to run the trail; and we have added some photos of random H5ers having a wonderful time to show how little we exaggerate when we say what a super day this was.

On On to THE JOLLY COOPERS

The Count, for Double, who's done enough really