What kind of day was today for Hardy's birthday? Brilliant sunshine, blue skies, birds singing, warmth and delight and even the odd bluebell left over. The only sense of the kind of doom and foreboding was in the Top Field, where we could see Moonbeam and her mates setting up the PA for tomorrow's Enyathon. Goodness knows that that's going to be like, but we reckon loud but ethereal may well just about describe it.
The festive Wandering Around in Smocks went as well as ever, and the Beaker Fertility Folk enjoyed the re-enactment of the St John's Eve scene from The Woodlanders, consisting as it did of legging it off into the woods at the first opportunity. Not really that different than any other day for the Fertility Folk when you think of it.
While needless to say the Beaker Quire, complete with fiddle, banjo and authentic bass flugelhorn, were quite happy to spend the day getting hammered on cider in the traditional way. Unfortunately it did cause a few of them to speak their minds when the Mummers came round, and after a frank exchange of words a few teeth were lost. On the bright side they stopped singing for a while as they received treatment, but the singing of "The Foggy Foggy Dew" doesn't half suffer from that lisp the singers seem to have developed since the fracas."
As the light now slips away in these days nigh unto the solstice, we see the shadowy shape of the Ooser, as he heads off down School Lane to frighten any passing yokels. It almost makes you wish you lived in Dorset. Till you remember the house prices.
God Bless, Tommy H. And we hope you were wrong about the whole God thing. For your own sake if nothing else...
NB - speaking of the Solstice, the "Build Your Own Stonehenge" kit was delivered this morning. Can all Beaker Folk please assemble in the car park tomorrow morning to help us put it up. Even as we speak Hnaef is out in the Orchard checking the location of True North, but using a map of Abyssynia isn't going to be much help to him in my opinion.
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