Today we had our Group of Parishes Summer Fete. This usually raises about £1,000 to share among the seven parishes. But it always seems to me a dull way to spend an afternoon, and a poor financial return for everyone's efforts.

On this occasion the sun shone, and everybody did what they had said they would do. The plants on sale were healthy. The cakes were good. The raffle prizes were mostly worth the winning. The games were traditional. The band played the sort of tunes everyone knows and can hum in a lightly jazz style. It was, in short, a success.

Maybe it's just me, but I really do dislike these communal social-cum-fund-raising events and would gladly never go to another garden fete, gala, coffee morning or village barbecue ever again. My mother claimed that her year as mayoress spoiled her for this kind of thing and that they weren't so bad if you could turn up (with a big hat and a big smile), say a few words, be presented with a big bunch of flowers, graciously buy a book of raffle tickets and a cake, and go straight off to your next engagement or home. Well, I've never been a mayoress and never will be, and I certainly couldn't cope with the hats because every hat I have ever worn made me look like either a toadstool or Paddington Bear, or (in winter) an extra in a bad amateur production of Fiddler on the Roof. However, I think I would be a lot happier if I could breeze in and breeze out again in the space of half-an-hour, with absolutely no responsibility for anything.

What was I doing? I was organising this year's variant on Fancy Dress - THE MAYOR'S HAT competitions. First the contest for the best hat prepared in advance, then the contest for the best hat made from two sheets of newspaper in the space of ten minutes. The first was won by a topical football supporter's hat trimmed with beer cans, flags and red and yellow cards, and the second by an equally topical Queen's Birthday crown. At least I didn't have to do the judging - that honour was left to the mayor - or rather ex-mayor - of Caistor.

By the way, I can now shower away - in a wonderful shower - the ravages of a hot, dull afternoon.