A Glastonbury Tale

Well you have all heard of the Tales written by Chaucer. Well these are not so famous about my time in Glastonbury more infamous.

When I lived in Glasonbury I lived on the moors with the gypsies down Chancery Lane ( I believe). But before that we lived at the foot of the Glastonbury Tor in a Green Ford Thames van. Which for some reason we called it the orange bus. I cannot remember the reason d'être.

I was a vegetarian at the time it was the only way to get laid. As all the Hippy Girls were all non meat eaters, although they all wore leather etc. I worked in Appleby's Meat Processing Plant for 16.00 pounds a week they were located on the High Street.( that will be another story). Should I am Asked. When I used to get paid each week. We went to the local Farmer up the road and bought a barrel of Scrumpy Cider for a couple of quid. You knew it was good if the meat he threw into it the day before dissolved and only left the bone.

We had a Heinz 57 type of mongrel black dog or pup called Wearyall. He was born in the shadow of the Wearyall Hill were the Glastonbury Holy Thorn Tree was planted according to legend by Joseph of Arimathea. One Night close to the summer solitice there was 10 or 15 of us plus the dog. We were playing guitars and drinking Scrumpy and we had a large bon fire going. The stupid dog kept running through the fire ( jim always said the dog was brain dead) or playing with it. So as he was getting kind of singed I grabbed him and dunked him into the cider barrel to cool him off. He kept jumping into the fire and the more we dunked him in the cider , you guessed it he kept falling over from the cider

. As it was scrumpy we never tasted burnt hair of dog anyways. As it was so rut gut anyways but cheap and hit you like a mac truck.

Wearyall got so drunk he passed out on the ground and we continued to party until the sun came up and then marched up the Tor to see the sunrise. And to then run down the Tor at full tilt completely sozzeled, Hoping you did not fall over and break something.


The same day the local paper came out in Glastonbury. With the headlines " Hippies Sacrificing Animals to the Fire Gods last night at the foot of the Tor."

The dog was fine; a little hung over but no worse for wear. We tied him up in future; to stop sharing the cider with him.