Jubilee, being British and holy stuff

Sunny days are here again, la la la la la, la la la la, sunny days are here again!  After a week of gloriously hot and sunny weather we are due to have a cooling off just in time for the Jubilee weekend.  Hmmmm, not what Her Majesty ordered.  I meanwhile am doing my bit for being patriotic with bunting up, paper chains ready to make, cakes to bake and Jubilee activities with the little folk all ready to get going!  There are plenty of Jubilee events going on around town plus the coverage on television so it should be a good time and make us proud (for once) to be British.

On this subject, I watched an article earlier about what it means to people these days to be British.  The presenter was someone from children’s television who came to the UK from Afghanistan at six years old and considers herself to be British although she also keeps her Afghan culture with foods and costumes for festivals and the like.  All her siblings were born in Afghanistan apart from her younger brother who was born in the UK.  She asked him if he thinks he is British and he said he feels half British and half Afghan even though he has never been to his family’s original country.  Gives us some food for thought really..................do we feel British because we were born and/or live here and are absorbed in the culture or is it because we have been raised to be told “you are British”?

This morning I spent a couple of hours cutting the lawns, pruning some overgrown shrubs and pulling up weeds.  I took a break for elevenses and flicked the television on to be met with (wait for it) an advert for a Christmas catalogue.  It is May.  Enough said.

I went to my god-daughter’s first Holy Communion over the weekend.  The day was lovely, the weather roasting and the church baking hot!  Twelve children were receiving Communion and had spent the past year in holy classes to prepare for their big day.  Lucia did really well and was the last child to be done so had to hold onto her nerves for a little longer than the others.  Each child was presented with a certificate at the end of the service.  Lucia referred to hers as a poster and it has found its’ way to her ‘holy table’ in her bedroom.  Hopefully the power of prayer will make her hamster reappear sharpish as it went missing somewhere in the house on the morning of the Communion – it couldn’t have chosen a worse time to go on an adventure.

Following on from my rant last time about people doing other stuff whilst at the wheel of their car, twice last week on the way home from an evening stroll I was waiting at a zebra crossing to safely trot over the road and on each occasion cars failed to stop.  With eyesight that bad they should not be driving.  At least I had to presence of mind to wait rather than presume the cars would at least slow down when approaching the crossing.  Unbelievably, this morning one of the people who failed to stop nearly ran into me as (here we go again) she did not stop on a roundabout despite me having the right of way.  Perhaps she is expecting a prize on her third attempt to cause me bodily harm?  In fact all she will end up with is a visit from the local constabulary – madam, I have your registration number.

Last week a friend was gossiped about in the school playground by a couple of nasty sorts.  Without going into detail, they commented on something very personal to my friend loud enough for her to hear.  Fortunately she is a strong character and has many, many friends and is a far better person than these bovine creatures.  Once again it is a case of do not comment on or insult people when you know nothing whatsoever about their personal circumstances.  Karma is a strange thing and it will leap up and bite you on the bum when you least expect it.  I hope someone is selling tickets for when these two get their comeuppance – please can I have a front row seat?  The ‘ladies’ (I use the word very loosely) are easy recognisable by their warty faces, pointy noses and broomsticks.