Were you a hippy/dropout/stoner/trustafarian/other in the 1970s in SW Wales? Or perhaps you were a sprog brought up on a commune, down a long track, with a dozen or so new 'brothers and sisters', and no electricity? Or were you a Welsh farmer who enjoyed free love? Come join the discussion of memory, history and social experiments in this effort to re-map an unusual existence in a beautiful place peopled by unique characters!
6 Comments:
Saskia sent me a fab photo of Giles looking deranged with a dorky pageboy haircut in front of Simple Simon when he was but a wee thing. Will try to cuss out the technology for transplanting the image here!
I remember working in HAzel's kitchen for the Steiner school. It was a big shock! I drank so much tea it put me off it for ever. The results though were brilliant - fantastic food and hundreds of customers.
Simple Simon poem
Simple Simon met a pieman going to the fair;
Said Simple Simon to the pieman "Let me taste your ware"
Said the pieman to Simple Simon "Show me first your penny"
Said Simple Simon to the pieman "Sir, I have not any!"
Simple Simon went a-fishing for to catch a whale;
All the water he had got was in his mother's pail.
Simple Simon went to look if plums grew on a thistle;
He pricked his fingers very much which made poor Simon whistle.
He went for water in a sieve but soon it all fell through;
And now poor Simple Simon bids you all "Adieu"
I remember helping out in Simple Simon at the Elephant Fayre as a kid; i spent the day eating nectarines, and the night puking them up!
any other overindulgent memories?!! i'll tell you what, though, she's taught her sons well if pete is anything to go by! i am shamed in comparison by my culinary endeavour.
nice poem, by the way.
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