Recovering

Ugh! Has it really been a week since i posted. Oh my!

Not much of an excuse – beyond the fact that i woke up last Monday in hospital very groggy and with a growing pain in my groin. Nah! not for THAT reason.

I had been waiting for a minor op – a hernia, which i am told is supposed to be embarrassing. Oh well: now you know. It was meant to happen next Monday, but someone cancelled.

A slot became vacant and i was whisked in (and out) before you could say “cough!”

Still. It has been ouchy…and that, combined with the drugs and then catching up on work means i’ve been off. So i never got round to blogging the Pride March in London, which was great fun, nor even the re-enactment events around Peterborough.

So a brief catch-up, then on. Pride was wonderful. Just one long parade…and not even the “helpful” Police Inspector who politely “sirred” me on my way to the loo could spoil it. OK. If i’m being critical, i’d like a bit more razzamatazz, Mardi Gras style, a little less po-faced sincerity.

We took the boy, who sagely observed that “its not OK to show your bottom in public – but its OK when you’re on a parade” – before being coated in stickers by passing contingents. We even discovered the existence of a pink scouting movement. Yay!!!

And then down to Trafalgar Square in time to cry along to “Defying Gravity”. Total thanks to the anonymous camera girl who proferred a tissue at the critical moment. No thanks to the random steward who popped the boy’s balloon, which i had attached to a railing for two minutes while nipping to the loo. It was, apparently, a health and safety risk. Yeah! Really!

Next day, out and about for peterborough’s quite impressive heritage weekend. Multiple re-enactment groups camped out around the Cathedral, before engaging in battle the next day. Hmmm….shades of “The War Games”, which brought the career of the second Dr Who to a close (nostalgia kick there for anyone old enough to remember).

Anyway, we watched a few battles, much to the enjoyment of the boy, who was most fascinated by things going boom and swords and axes. Then, touring the Viking encampment, we chatted to a woman there who suggested that re-enactment was a significant refuge for lesbians.

How strange. I had always had re-enactment – and sci-fi conventions as well – as hotbeds of kinkiness. Still, as she was speaking from alleged personal experience, i guess she had her finger on the pulse, so to speak.

Perhaps there is some sort of article in there.

jane
xx

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