The May Morning after the Walpurgisnacht Before

Some May Eve that was.

10 minutes after we lit the Wicker Person (I know that the traditional term is "Wicker Man", but we strive for equality in all things, including neoreconstructive folk ritual), the Central Beds Environmental Secret Police turned up, and demanded we release Young Keith's uncle, the police constable, from the heart of the edifice. We explained we'd only put him in there for historical and filmographic accuracy, and we were going to let him out in a minute, but they were having none of it.

So we let him out, and then they complained we were using green, unseasoned wood.  Well, quite. But is it our fault the supply of pallets in the hedgerow has dried up? So we sprayed it in petrol to ensure it burnt cleanly, and they went away happy.

Next thing we know, we discover  that Marston, who was supposed to be looking  after the mulled metheglin, had looked after it rather too well. When we remonstrated with him, he threw baked potatoes at us, then grabbed a disguise and ran out the community. Well, when I say "disguise", let me put it this way. One of our  'Obby 'Osses is missing.

So this morning everybody's got that chemical hangover you get when you have to raid Marston's Stella Artois store because he's drunk all the traditional stuff. And Marston's still missing. We're guessing that he's headed for the one place a fugitive 'Obby 'Oss could hide unnoticed on a May Morning - i.e. Oxford.

And meanwhile Jack-in-the-green has got into a huge fight with the Lord of Misrule, and the Piper at the Gates of Dawn has driven his 4x4 into gates again. I don't know where he gets his name from - he's useless at spotting gates in the half-light. Though I suppose if you're 30 centuries old you can be forgiven if your sight is failing, how come it doesn't get picked up when he renews his licence? And Marice, who got elected to the key female role thus year, has offended everyone by combining her interests in rural pursuits with her discovery of the book 50 Shades of Grey. So if there's a bustle in your hedgerow, don't be alarmed now. It's just a spanking for the May Queen.