Festivities.

Well, our little toun just did itself proud and is full of pageant and fun for a while. Drummer & Town Crier passed solemnly up the street to declare Forres Week open. When he'd cried his words he was followed by the pipe band, and the 'Queen', a comely young thing from the Academy, and a procession of floats presented by the shops then a swarm of carnival creations, made by the school children with the help, mainly, of people from the Findhorn Foundation. Stilt walkers (actually at least one was on those bouncey bows that amputees use for running amazingly fast but hey..) Lots of tots dressed as 'Magic Midges' lead by Lois a cheery Lezzy friend of mine in wild wings and spangles, a huge head, a huge fox - not sure what any of them were representing exactly, a Samba band with belly dancers... etc... The parade is now on its way to the local Park where there is to be trapeze artists, bands, burgers and other such delights. I can't accompany them because my back has been hurting so much lately that I can't stand for more than 5 minutes at a time but I watched outside the door of the shop then waved C & S goodbye and came inside feeling rather left out. I forgot my camera so am depending on Sanders to have captured some moments.

The highlight of this week of celebrations is the RAF KInloss 70th Anniversary march through the High Street to claim the Freedom of the town. The Red Arrows are due to strut their stuff above the park. Nice of them to think of me - all that happens on my birthday!

The town will also be securing its boundaries by Rydeing the Marches, something that happens with more ceremony and much noise of pipes and drums in the border towns where the boundaries between Scotland and England were very jealously preserved yearly by the local worthies who rode around them on horse back. I've never heard of Forres Marches being ridden, maybe I've missed it, but this year they are being ridden on bicycles which seems a travesty to me but perhaps all the horses are busy. The Burgesses will also be chosen at some point. These men or women have certain inalienable privileges that have never been repealed, for instance they can beat their wives or husbands publicly. Oh good.

I found out this week that my mole-catcher book-seller friend is also a Drum Major. He is going to lead the Edinburgh Tattoo this year. As he told me that he'd be walking through those great gates ahead of the pipers 'Like a God' I suddenly saw the essence of this man, his pride and.. er.... to get too sentimental but I don't care.. inherent nobility.

He also told me that above the (very high, very wide) gates there is a timely warning to Drum Majors 'Mind Yer Heids'.