Today is Plough Monday.
Today I escorted 28 children to a freezing, windswept country lane to watch other children and some adults dance jigs. The police had closed off the road specially.
Then we followed the brightly dressed dancers (and a plough) into the local church where there was more dancing, some hurdy gurdy music, a re-enactment of a murder and a hanging, some prayers and a blessing of the plough (the plough came into the church as well). The Vicar was a newcomer to the village and to make things more interesting he was from the industrial north. He was very much bemused by this service full of dancing children, hurdy gurdy music, Molly dancers and a plough.
Then I was interviewed on local radio.
My life could not be more different than what it was a year ago.
7 comments:
You are so right
What a difference but what fun!!!!!
you were interviewed on radio? do tell.
As I herded my class back onto the bus a lady radio reporter shoved a mic up my nose. She asked some questions ("where are you all from?" etc) and smiled alot. All this time my kids were pissing themselves , licking the windopws of the bus and blowing raspberries. There then followed a chorus of "KAREOKE!"
I love 5th grade.
what's wrong with licking the windows?
Thas how much Norfuk's chunged, unttit. We never hud no glass in the winders of the charabanc when we was 8, didwuh.
dancing, vicars, churches? ploughs? where the fat hell are you? a year ago the only church you saw seemed to be frequented only by urine-soaked, drunken homeless people. they are mysteriously gone now, as are you.
What do you do on Diversity Day?
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