Buckland bushdance

My yoga and zumba friend, Kay, and I graced the Bush Dance last Saturday.  It was advertised as from 6pm to 9pm so we figured it was a family event and I didn't take my camera though I would have loved to catch some twirling dancers.  As it turned out we were right and ages ranged from 18 months to 82 years so I'm glad I didn't upset anyone by taking photos of children.  The males by and large were under 10 years of age, though some faithful souls to partners who looked  Frankie or Peppermint-esque were in attendance.  The band and caller were great fun and we had a very good time, my partners being mostly Kay and a girl very like our Sarah in her attitude and love for dance.  Compared with Wentworth bring-a-plates, the supper was disappointing.  My only complaint about Wentworth dos was that they were all delicious High Tea hi-carb crustless sandwiches, asparagus rolls, lemon slices, cream puffs, nearly airborne Victoria sponges and Ginger Fluff (and my packet of Tim Tams).  So on Saturday night I took a triple cream brie, boughten beetroot dip and meticulously sliced carrot and celery sticks.  Quelle horreur!  Upon entering the Supper Room, behold piles of carrot sticks though none as finely crafted as mine.  The savouries derived from sheets of frozen pastry and oven-crisped slices of bread.  There were some attractive looking cakes and slices, and lots of Tim Tams.  I would not have been tempted to take a photo of the food.  The table of urns and acres of sturdy white cups and saucers, however, was a thing of classic beauty.  Kay and I each had a bottle of wine in the car but left them there and slaked our great thirsts with tap water.
And neither of our lucky door tickets won the prize:  a bottle of Jansz.