Legends from our own lunchtimes

Friday, July 01, 2011

Having a daughter clogging up a tiny corner of our abode is all rather pleasant. She eats little, doesn't make much noise and thus far at least has barely complained. Perhaps she has repressed her memory of the last time aboard, when it was raining quite a lot, and it was easier to stay dry by donning a raincoat and standing outside than remaining aboard the good ship Joyeux, the extent of whose perforations had not yet been discovered.

Those times have long passed though, as for the time being has the rain, which gave us a perfect day for drying clothes just washed, walking in the sunshine and checking on progress on preparations for the Festival.

It's been a long time since we've seen a genuine thunderbox and here there are dozens scattered around the old town, newly erected complete with what presumably is a sufficient supply of sawdust to last the weekend.

Gentlemen may rest assured that there is no need to soil the millennia old walls of the church either should they be caught short, as behind the partition so clearly marked, have been placed at their disposal two half drums complete with sawdust lining to ensure that no nasty drumming or even splashing sounds will be audible.

I wonder if, to completely authenticate this journey down memory lane, the containers will be disposed of in a nearby waterway.


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