I just bloody love Blossy; it’s as simple as that, and even though I am writing this column before the big day (always a risk), I am sure yesterday’s events will have only increased the infatuation.

When I was a wee bloke, we would sometimes come up from Balclutha for the day. One of my earliest memories was of a float built to be the Flintstones car and Dad talking to Fred and Barney like he knew them. Actually, Dad grew up here, so he probably did, but to me, he was talking to Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble and was therefore pretty much the greatest guy on earth. 

I haven’t been able to figure out what year that was, but I can clearly remember a float a later time that represented the Munich Olympic Games, so that was 1972 making me seven years old. It’s funny the things you remember, isn’t it? The clearest of all the memories was looking out for and seeing the white duck painted on a rock on the way home. It is still there today, and I would love to know who painted it and why.

 Those family trips stopped as the older kids got past travelling with Mum and Dad and me and decades went by until I attended another Blossom Festival when I moved here in 1995.  

Working at Radio Central meant I was in at the deep end, doing commentaries, attending events, and making flowers for the float when the kids went to bed. Those were great years, and having little kids added so much fun to the big day as they had their own ‘Fred and Barney’ moments. In later years, they also enjoyed the unique Blossy experience of being in the Procession.

There was though a period of time when we didn’t enjoy Blossy so much; when it went through one of its bogany phases and it wasn’t always a comfortable place to be. I can remember as a lawyer having some time visiting the cells at the police station on the Saturday night sorting bail out and it really was not a great place to be. Ending the Saturday night music event and strong, proactive policing has happily put those days behind us.

I joined the committee in 2009 which turned out to be the year that a significant financial loss was recorded. I recall the town hall meeting I called in March the following year to garner support for finding a way to keep the festival alive. My legs were shaking when I walked onto that stage, as I literally didn’t know how things were going to go. Fortunately, some people started clapping and the applause got louder and louder as the people of Alexandra made a big noise to show that they were not going to let their festival die. 

Every year, and especially this one being the 65th, I will stand somewhere on the street and look at a wee kid with a face sticky with candy floss beaming as a float goes past carrying their hero, and I’ll pause for a moment and think of how close we came to losing the incredible taonga that Blossy is.

So, congratulations to Martin, to Sharleen and her hard-working committee, to the Queen and the Princesses, the Senior Queen, the float builders, to the hundreds of people who in ways big and small and to the sponsors who have contributed to making this year’s festival a blooming success. 

Bring on Blossy 2023!