The weekend was devoted to a strange mix of Celtic religion and a boules tournament. It went like this: The religious part was moved to the old school house since there was concern about the safety of participants being in the old chapel. One stone wall of the chapel is being held up by wooden butresses. But the high winds of the weekend were extreme and no chances were taken.

So after the service in the school, the priest leads the congragation down to the grounds of the chapel where a structure of fagots would be  burned to the ground. In the old days I’ve been told the community could place a piece of paper with their “sins” on it in the fire and be forgiven for a whole year. Sounds like a good plan to me.

The kids love this part, especially when the wind kicks up and the TanTad really flares! The crowd watching sings great old songs in the Bretanne dialect while cars trying to pass on the road wonder what’ is going on.

Then it’s time to march back to the school and eat with your neighbors. Here our neighbor Stephen is served by another neighbor, Martine.

Now the fun begins after dinner with the boules tournament.  What I know about boules tournaments you could put in a thimble and have room to spare. I know that the courts are as level as possible and have very specific dimensions. A wooden target ball is bowled from one end of the court to the other then each player tries to bowl his wooden ball as close as possible to the target ball.

Because there are cash prizes, measuring accurately where the balls land is critical. Anyone familiar with boules feel free to comment.

For my Beloved and me the after tournament dancing to bagpipes and singing is the fun part. Crepes are cooked and cider dispenced until the wee hours when we stagger to our beds and dream of winning next year.

Even though St. Herve was blind, I am sure he hears us from on high and approves of the community coming together for an evening of fun.

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