August Moon Festivities

All in all, our August Full Moon ecumenical activities with the Guinea Pig Worshippers of Stewartby went quite badly.

Next year, there will not be a cricket match. I think it's fair to say that neither side exactly entered into the spirit of what was meant to be a relatively unserious affair. At one extreme we had Burton Dasset's complaints when he realised that the cricket ball is actually quite hard. And at the other, we had Drayton Parslow's sledging. I realise there were also complaints about my bodyline bowling technique, but I was merely trying to rough up their captain prior to bowling the yorker. Hnaef really didn't help matters by wearing a straw boater with his whites and walking round the outfield with a teddy bear called Aloysius, but I simply put that down to his Upper Class upbringing.

But I think it's fair to say that it was the after the game that things went seriously wrong. It's possibly my own fault as I should have explained the concept of inculturation to Dominga more clearly. At around 6 o'clock last night, while we were sharing an act of worship with the Guinea Pig Worshippers - a fairly pointless exercise, since their worship is conducted entirely in squeaks, grunts and whistles - We asked Dominga if she would check that the barbecue coals had caught properly. Dominga walked past the Guinea Pig colony in their sacred cages on her way to the patio area. Unfortunately, being from Peru, she assumed they were the hors d'oeuvres.

Suffice it to say that though they were - all things considered - quite nice about it, all Beaker Folk are now banned from Stewartby. And what with this and the growing number of shivering gibbons about the place, the Animal Rights people are starting to take an interest again.