We’re Jammin’ for Gary to celebrate the many roles of The Fantastic Mr. Fox and fund raising for Thames Valley Air Ambulance as they landed on our Cricket Field to help him.
One of the many roles Gary played was that of a “Pied Piper”; he managed to get so many children and adults to join in the concerts that we started in Horley. Gary loved reggae and a strong bassline, so its “gonna be all about the bass” and “we’re jammin’, jammin’, we hope you like jammin’, too.
This event will also raise awareness for both the “Hands off Horton” Hospital campaign and the Youth Offending Service, both of which were very important to Gary.
Thanking you in advance, with love Deb, Grant and Lauren xxx
Please note that due to the capacity of our church this event is invitation only, we have tried to include everyone via a Facebook invite and email. However if you knew Gary and you would like to join us on Monday 1st May then please email email@example.com so if numbers permit we’ll try and “jam” you in!
CRICK-FIT – calling all Horley and local girls and ladies! Crick-fit is back for the summer for the second year! Crick-fit is an informal sporty session every which takes place every Thursday evening at Horley Cricket Club. This is designed to be a fun evening of activities which are cricket based. Run by Claire Bottoms from Hornton. All girls and ladies from ages 5-75 welcome!! The first time it gets up and running is tonight! So come along at 6.30 and see what it’s like.
The field is beautiful this morning, the kind of beauty that you can’t photograph, only feel. The sun is rising in a cloudless blue sky, and making brilliant every frosted blade of grass, evening …. Wednesday 24th February
I’ve reached the low wall of the pavilion now, and I press my finger into a frozen fairy-cushion of silvery moss. The ice melts instantly, and the cushion turns green. I press my finger against my cheek, to test the coldness.
It’s fine for me to be afraid, but it’s really not okay for that fear to make me a coward. I take a deep, cold-air breath, tip my face to the pale winter sun. This morning, I’ve seen and understood something of myself that I can’t ever pretend I hadn’t. I am frightened of old people because of what they are, what they were. Once as strong-armed, straight-backed, as shrill-voiced and energetic, as I am now. I will be like them one day, and it’s that thought that frightens me, not the people themselves.
The wickets were mown, late last week, and are a lighter square against the dark green of the out-field. An orange rope, the one they use sometimes as a boundary rope, is suspended around the square’s perimeter. It is a grubby white in places, where the orange has frayed free, and reminds me of crumbed ham……
…… The hedge bordering Banbury lane is covered by mildewed netting. It bulges and sags, like a pair of old-lady knickers.
We reach the corner by the nets and turn up hill, towards the pavilion with its shuttered winter-face, its empty flagpole. The flag pole makes an impatient, metallic ticking sound when the wind blows, some cleat beating another………….Sunday 31st January
The sky almost couldn’t be more beautiful, more ecstatic, and I know that it heralds rain and greyness to come, but I don’t care. I stand and stretch, pulling in the pink air around me.
Sometimes it’s worth the bad bits, in order to revel in the good.
Dawn is breaking as Pants and I come back from morning walk; great cracks of crimson and violet splitting the dome of the sky. We’ve been to the orchard field, and we go down to the cricket so I can walk clean my boots.
I know my cheeks must be flushed pink, and my hair is wild. I feel vitally, wonderfully alive; the wind is soft against my face, and the air smells of green-things and earth, of new life and living…….