The Final Fling

Ella was still awake at 11.30pm last night so I read to her from her mum’s old copy of Little House on the Prairie. My girls loved those Laura Ingalls Wilder books. She had forgotten to tell me about the school diversity assembly where they had Miss Rory, a gay drag artist, come to chat about his life and how different things were at their school in the 1990s - during the time of Thatcher Section 28 was brought in and teachers weren’t allowed to mention (promote in their words) any form diversity.

They were reluctant to get going this morning, needless to say, but I got them walked down to the village hall for the end of the traditional music festival cèilidh. (My daughters used to love it when we lived here before - #2 got fiddle lessons at the first school and they went to the poetry and music competitions. The Final Fling is the family dance.)

We watched a few dances. There was a caller which was good and soon Ella was badgering her brother to be her partner and join in but he was reluctant, so I got up with her. She loved it. “Much more fun than watching”. Soon he decided he’d join as her partner so I had a sit down and a chat to old friends. Chris arrived for the last half hour so I danced with her. If you could call it dancing. It was fun though and the children agreed it was good to give new experiences a go.

I took them to the sweet shop then we walked home. I stopped to chat to the retired shepherd Sam at his garden. Unfortunately his wife has been in hospital for a week and it doesn’t look good. She had to wait from 5pm till 2.30am before she saw a doctor in A & E. They are such a lovely friendly old couple.

I made a quick lunch of courgette fritters before Mr C drove them home. I’m going to slonk on the sofa and catch up with yesterday’s Guardian.