My friend messaged me: did I want to travel to Sherburn, East Yorkshire, for a barn dance? There would be a live band, hog roast and a bucking bronco.
Did I ever?
Needing no more encouragement, but realising the event was in aid of the Marie Curie charity, I agreed wholeheartedly.
It was easy to cobble together a suitable outfit of denim, plaid shirt and brown boots given that my wardrobe consists of mainly such items.
In A Field
Pitching the tent in a field neighbouring the barn, my friends and I donned our cowboy hats and were ready to go.
It was a cracking summer evening with the sun long into the cloudless sky. The Pimms was flowing, in rather large jugs, as we settled ourselves down on deck chairs beside an overturned box. This was rustic English charm at its best.
I eyed the country dancing at the other end of the barn hesitantly. Cursed with the grace of a newborn giraffe, I was not inspired to get stuck into a bout of dosey-doeing, so I merely fished the strawberries out of my Pimms and watched.
As dusk softened the edges of the evening skies, minuscule bats darted and twirled above the heads of the crowd. Intrepid party-goers attempted the rodeo bull. “Let’s give that a go later!” we exclaimed with bravado. Thankfully, by the time night had fallen and the idea took us once more, the mechanical bull had been removed for its – and our – safety.
Dancing In A Barn
The band changed to an upbeat group playing rock and pop covers. This was more like it. Before we knew it, we and the rest of the crowd, surged forward to spend the rest of the night singing and dancing without inhibitions in a barn in a field.
As the night wore on, the bonfire was lit and various offers from young farmers to join them in a hot tub were declined.
The next morning, after we’d consumed bacon rolls and cups of tea, we explored the grounds of the house and barn. A rather fine peacock glared at us haughtily from the roof of the hen house, where many chickens, ducks and geese clucked and fussed.
If this was a typical way to spend a weekend then I would be very happy. Disconnected from all the Facebook fuss and away from the urban sprawl, my friends and I couldn’t help but laugh as a humongous turkey gobbled at us.
In life, it is the random moments that keep you smiling. The sun dipping below the trees as you sit outside with your friends, content, carefree, happy.
I’d say if you ever get offered the chance to dance in a barn in a field, take it.
There is nothing more English than a good old barn dance. How else do you and your friends and family celebrate summer in England? Share your stories with me in the comments.
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