I went to the funeral of a dear family friend today, and heard an absolutely brilliant poem about the Ibberton Temperance Fete, the gist of which was that in the "twenties" the daily part of the festivities observed the purpose of the occasion as pigs were bowled for, bands played and raffles won; but that come the evening, and all the children gone, the adults would all move along to the pub and have a few scrumpies! RIP Nigel.