A Rumble in Quartermile

You know me as a woman of moderation and patience, someone who can withstand the vagaries and irks of modern living without so much of a murmur of dissent, so you will recognise that when I rant, there must be some justification.

There are two reasons for my displeasure with the organisation of the Meadows Festival talking place this weekend over the railings from us in the kind of summer weather almost unheard of for this event and which invites His Lordship and me to sit outside on our patio to read the papers.

Why then did the organisers of the event believe it is reasonable to site the main music stage 100 yards from a residential development and then schedule the first performance to be a drumming squad belting out a sustained rhythm of beating at 10 am on a Sunday morning so loudly that you might have heard it 5 miles away?
Although the decibels throughout the weekend have been more than is comfortable to deal with, this jungle stuff so early in the day incensed me

My second rant is toilet driven.The organisers have provided a row of portable toilets near the stage, so why do men find it necessary to urinate against the trees at the bottom of our garden. I deliberately made myself visible to one young man as he made himself comfortable and having spotted me, he gave me a thumbs up as he zipped up.

Nevertheless, being the considerate person I am, it is lovely to see people enjoying themselves sitting in the sun and wandering round the stalls, and it will be all over soon enough.

This young lady was applying henna designs to hands and wrists. I passed on that.