It's Gonna be HUGE!

I've always had a bit of an overactive imagination, prone to giddy flights of fancy, blowing the tiniest of ideas out of all proportion. Why do things by halves if you can do them ten times bigger or better or more complicated than everyone else.

We got to discussing Dad's 60th birthday over a Carvery lunch. Kathryn suggested hiring the village hall and asking her favourite band to play for Dad and his 100 or so closest relatives. I took a sip of my Diet Coke, contemplated my half-eaten stuffing ball and unleashed a monster.

Half an hour and a number of roast taties later, VicFest had been conceived. The venue has become a friendly farmer's field and adjacent barn. The line-up ranging from his mates' Irish folk band, Tony Blair and the MP4s, to Travis ( with Scouting For Girls headlining, of course) with the chill-out zone presided over by the Royal Philharmonic ( it's quite remarkable when you consider the talent 2 30-something sisters have let slip through their fingers in the guise of past boyfriends). There will be tents, stilt walkers, face-painting, a hog roast, fortune-teller, fancy dress competition, float parade, It's-A-Knockout competition and cream teas. Maybe even a prize for the biggest onions.

It will be an exclusive ticket-only event for the entire village and anyone with any vague connection to Dad or the Leaning clan ever, no matter how remote.

We'll have banners, posters, T-shirts and a website.

My first job is to find a sponsor. I'm thinking perhaps a reading-glasses manufacturer, seeing as Dad has to have a pair in every room in the house and still manages to lose them every 5 minutes.

He thinks we're joking. We've got some serious work to do between now and next May ( it's too cold in March so the celebrations will be postponed) if he's not to be disappointed with another pair of socks.