This post is for Brockley Dave.
I had a wonderful Brockley weekend. In Saturday's glorious sunshine, I was on Hillyfields at the Brockley Max festival. Some galleries here. Thankfully, no Gilad Atzmon playing this year, and I didn't manage to lose any of the kids I was in charge of this year. Didn't realise that excellent new local business Hills and Parkes would have a food stall, so bought a Turkish picnic from the TFC in Lewisham. Brockley Max is now in its 11th year, and testament to the level of communal and creative energy down here.
Then Sunday was Big Lunch day. Lewisham is the world capital of big lunches, apparently. There were several in my area. In what estate agents are now calling "Crofton Park Village", Peter the butcher (a local hero) had a busy day supplying meat to the barbecues, and there were bouncy castles across Honor Oak Park.
Unfortunately, the weather was not so good. (I blame David Cameron for corrupting the word "big".) The street I was on we had a cake competition, rum punch, a pub quiz, a salsa lesson, a raffle and some gorgeous food. It all got a bit British by the end, sheltering under the gazebo, but wonderful nonetheless.
If you have a Big Lunch story you'd like to share, please do in the comment thread.
Here's Marlin Chops, who headlined at Brockley Dave's big lunch ("despite gazeebo galore the equipment and band was in danger from water getting in"), doing a not bad version of one of my favourite songs, all too apt given the weather.
And here's my ruminations and second thoughts about the big lunch and the big society.