The Larches Annual Egg Olympics. Year II

Being cold and blustery today has its advantages, I have choices; I can iron, clean house, blog......

Can I phone a friend!?

Last Year: Lou and the 5yo.

So, I guess I have time to tell you about The Larches Egg Olympics year II.........

At 2pm on New Years Day, the crowds descended on the The Larches or, more specifically, descended on Home Field. We were 30+ participants this year, some wearing inappropriate clothes, it must be said. Don't get me wrong, no one was wearing a swimsuit or anything lewd, rather they sported some pretty nice tweedy jackets and delicious-looking trousers - Yeo-Valley attire. [Click Link: You must see this advert for our local diary producer.]  Posh clothes? - Big Mistake! The hint was in the title ... EGG, Olympics, y'know, chucking eggs at one another in a field.

Last year's winners, from the tree farm close by, duly brought the trophy back. They had guarded it well, the stainless steel looked better than the day I picked it up from the antiques market in Chruch Stretton. It shone beautifully and now it also contained sweeties. Yummmm.

Hubby had staked out the 80ft course. The rules are simple; start at the stakes marked 5ft (the distance between you and your partner is now 10ft) chuck and catch the egg. Once you have successfully caught the egg at the 5ft stake move back to the 10ft stake.... etc... Provided the egg doesn't break the volley may continue regardless of the number of bounces, drops or near misses.
The most impressive team of the day was my 6yo and his 6yo friend A. Their volley went on and on and on and ON, without the egg ever being caught by one of them, both fearful of being egged. Also, remarkably, without it breaking on the soft squidgy grass. It was very like that tennis match at Wimblebum this year between John Isner and Nicolas Mahut. Eventually The Larches crowd became complacent by the 6yo attempt and began chatting among themselves. Foolish, foolish crowd; 6yo's are desperately inaccurate chuckers and soon the egg began to stray into the crowd. One even landed in the open fire pit, which the svelte waiting athletes were gathered around. [Warm hands and a cold heart is a very important part of the training]

The egg-tastic trophy was retained by the village at a very respectacle 70ft catch I'm pleased to say, having almost been claimed by a rival village. Phew! C & P - you know who you are.

The sky darkened and instead of egg and spoon, the Olympics adjourned to championship soup eating and general quaffing of wine and beer. Welcome 2011.

Roll on the Olympics 2012!