Our newest breakaway group, the Vox Laurentians, are getting on my nerves now.
Half past 10 and from the potting shed, aka the Shrine of St Laurence the Martyr, I can hear the mournful sound of white middle aged men playin' the blues. Lots of songs about how, due to a world that didn't care, they had to become chartered accountants and derivatives traders. Songs about how they're not allowed a voice, and nobody's listening. Well, apparently they do have a voice and nobody really wants to listen. Because that ain't really the blues.
In an attempt to deal with this blight, I'm pleased to announce we're moving the location and format of tomorrow's Pickled Onion Competition. Back last autumn everyone made the strongest-tasting, firiest, spiciest, most chilli-infused pickling vinegars they could, and used the most perfectly sized of pickling onions and shallots. We were going to judge it outside in the Orchard, for social distancing purposes, in groups of six at a time.
But now we are changing this to the Ceremony of the Tasting of the Holy Onion. Each competitor, together with a judge, will proceed to the Laurentian Shrine with three pickled onions. They will enter the shed, and eat two. Bowing to the statue of Young Laurence, they will then utter the mystic salutation, "that shallot". They will then eat the last onion, and leave.
If that doesn't winkle them out, I don't know what will.
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You have some odd sects and off traditions.
ReplyDeletePickled onion competitions.... pretty windy I suspect.