I will walk 500 Miles

Tonight was the Allotment Society AGM 

Oh how I dread this night.   My first experience way back in 2017, almost ended in a fist fight and I declined the invitations in the next year or two. 

Si is on the committee, and as his other half, I feel obliged to support him.  And be there, in case a fight breaks out and I have to drag him off someone. 

We arrived pretty much on time, and I examined the place the meeting was in.   It's called "The Cabin"  I have no idea how long it has been there, but I had never, ever been in there until tonight. 

I took a chair from the stack and positioned myself at the door - for ease of escape. 

The hall took my interest though, and I prowled around for a little while.  I sort of recognised it as "the Old Man's Club".,  I believed all the old men of the town gathered there of an afternoon, to expound on the local gossip.  This may or may not be true. 

It would appear that now it is used as a centre for the Local Art club, various pieces of work on display around it.  Also a church.   I can't remember what time, but something along the lines of "baptist Evangelistical. I think the picture said.   There were bibles dotted about and "Art Club" Mugs DO NOT TOUCH. 

Meeting kicked off on time.  I was sitting next to a chap I remember from my youth.  He probably doesn't remember me - he was usually out of his face on weed whenever our paths crossed.   He chatted amicably, but I figure he has no idea who i am.  I was pretty invisible as a youth. 

There were a lot of new faces, but also the faces of the pair who started the fight the first year.  

In situations like this, i wish I was More LIke Withers.   She wouldn't have stood for their shite.   She would have be down on them like a ton of bricks.  And I would not have recurring anxiety about AGMs. 

It made me laugh to think of her taking them on. 

And before I knew it, the meeting was over with very little fuss or comment from the floor.  (Even over the expense of a rotavator, and a marquee. )  ( I seem to remember the fight the first year kicked off over petrol being bought to deliver people's bags of soil to their plots (who couldn't manage to carry them)