And so the Wicker Man rises above the greensward, resplendent in the wood of 32 pallets which we have cunningly woven into what looks remarkably like wicker.
On the subject of misnaming, I've been challenged for calling it a "Wicker Man". Well, I've agonised over this myself. Those that object to me calling it a Wicker Man say I'm attributing the male gender to a dumb, inanimate object with no personality.
Which I suppose is fair comment. Anyway, at precisely midnight we will be lighting the Wicker Men with a dozen flaming torches. Obviously, the torch-carrying mob will be taking a detour round to the Old Farage first. Then they shall negotiate the Beltane Labyrinth on the way to Wicker Meadow.
Please can all Beaker Fertility Folk please note that you're not as young or fit as you used to be. So please do your "special dance" after the fire has died down a bit and there's less light.
After the ceremony, we shall adjourn to the Edward Woodward Room for sherries. Or people who like sherry can. The rest of us will be in the Ekland Room, with a bottle of decent Scotch.
Please can the Hedgehog Squad do their check at about 11.50. Last year we had "Spiny Surprise" for tea for half of May.