You're always in our prayers

Who'd have thought a judge in all his, or her, finery in London would be called upon to decide whether Bideford Town Council - motto: crap and proud of it (yes, I did make that up) - should be allowed to say prayers before meetings. The reason it has come to the point where a leading member of the judiciary is required to decide whether Bideford's finest brains (obviously, I exaggerate) should offer up a prayer to a supernatural being before settling matters of great import such as dog poop, double yellow lines and extra-terrestrial visitations is that the National Secular Society has intervened. Said society claims that it is not right that a body such as the town council should spend any of its time saying prayers. Presumably their argument revolves around the whole purpose of what the town council is for. Well search me, I don't know and I doubt that any member of the town council could give a coherent explanation.

As someone who has sat through many town council meetings - as an observer, not a participant - I have to say I would be at a loss to explain what it is the town council thinks it is achieving ever, let alone when its members say prayers. However, the question I would pose to the National Secular Society is what harm does it do for a bunch of "community-minded" citizens to offer up a prayer before spending up to three, or even four, hours talking drivel. The thing is, if saying prayers is an empty exercise does it really do any harm, on the other hand, if it works, then surely it should be encouraged.

Battle lines are being drawn and, as a Bideford council tax payer, I fear that the end result will be a greater demand for the already exorbitant amount of money I have to stump up for the town council. I suspect that both camps are so determined to win the fight that nothing will stop them doing battle. What a shame, then, that the town council did not pursue the suggestion of veteran councillor Peter Christie. Known in some quarters as "Hot Tub Pete" (for reasons which have no basis in fact or reality) Councillor Christie's idea was that prayers should not be included on the agenda but that any councillors wishing to offer up a few choice words to the Almighty could get together beforehand and do their thing.

It was a sensible suggestion - in my view - which had all the benefits of compromise, but surprisingly, even in this era of coalition government, it was not one which gained any support. Oh well, let battle commence.

Wee will rock you

Bank Holiday weekends require activity so it was off to the North Devon real ale and food fair (or whatever it was called) on the Sunday. It was OK, because, let’s face it, anywhere with beer, food and live music has an above average chance of being at the very least OK. But – always a but – herself is not too keen on real ale, in fact, she doesn’t like it much at all, so it would have been a bit unfair to insist on staying for a session. And also, most importantly in my view, there were no loos.

Now, if you’re going to get people along to drink beer and eat food then it is an inescapable law of nature and hygiene that you need loos. However, owing to North Devon Council’s shortsighted policy of closing down a multiplicity of bog standard (ha ha) toilets and opening a very few super-loos, there was nowhere very close to the Pannier Market where the event was held, where people could drain their spuds and park their breakfasts. I hope the consequence was not a lot of al fresco micturition as the pints were sunk, but nature will take its course…

Anyway, no harm done, we just drank up and left, but not before noticing the huge number of people at the festival who bore a close resemblance to gargoyles, including one mature lady complete with Rolling Stones big tongue tattoo who insisted on having her top shelf on display (but you didn’t really want to look). The beer festival was not the only place at which to spot gargoyles etc as the next day we ventured to Westward Ho! for the potwalloping – an annual event held more in hope than expectation. Again this was only just OK, but no more. So we paid a quick visit to the beer tent, then had fish and chips and got the bus home. Proper grockles. On the plus side there were readily accessible toilets so no need for outdoor weeing.