Vienna
Registered Shopper
- Joined
- Oct 25, 2012
- Messages
- 6,013
She always reminded me of walking day in my home town. All the local churches would gather their Sunday school kids, bedeck them in matching fluffy frocks and the boys in matching short trousers, shirts and bow ties. The kids would hang onto a long length of ribbon, probably so none got left behind or lost and at each end of the ribbon a lady from the Church would hold onto it and herd the kids in a straight line and telling little Johnny to stop picking his nose and young Julie to stop scratching her bum. The brass bands followed behind, the choirs and vicars in their newly starched cassocks, the brownies, girl guides and scouts who always looked like the poor relations in their well worn, often faded uniforms and the Rose Queen sitting on top of a truck and surrounded by her ladies in waiting and hanging on for dear life because old Fred driving the truck was heavy footed on the brakes.
The women who held the ribbons always appeared to compete with each other as the who could wear the fanciest frock and of course with matching shoes, hat or fascinator. Baskets of flowers would be carried by some of the little girls and the ribbons would have small bunches of flowers tied to it. I reckon Miss Peony flowers would have been right at home. Each Church tried to compete for the neatest ribbon lines, the fanciest frocks and best behaved kids who eventually got very tired and fedup and the youngest of whom wanted their Mum and tried to escape when they saw her waving at them from the crowd. By the end of the walks many frocks, shirts and bow ties would be drenched in snot, tears and stickiness from the boiled sweets the line ladies used to bribe the kids to stay put. The line ladies would have blisters from their new shoes, tide marks where their face powder had gathered under their chins from the sweat and stress of watching so many kids and literally trying to keep them in line and several hats will have drifted to the front or the back of heads on top of now flattened recently washed and set hair.
The final haul back to each respective Church as the walkers parted ways always resembled a herd of fancy dressed refugees, limping, crying, hungry, thirsty and silently vowing never to do it again.
The women who held the ribbons always appeared to compete with each other as the who could wear the fanciest frock and of course with matching shoes, hat or fascinator. Baskets of flowers would be carried by some of the little girls and the ribbons would have small bunches of flowers tied to it. I reckon Miss Peony flowers would have been right at home. Each Church tried to compete for the neatest ribbon lines, the fanciest frocks and best behaved kids who eventually got very tired and fedup and the youngest of whom wanted their Mum and tried to escape when they saw her waving at them from the crowd. By the end of the walks many frocks, shirts and bow ties would be drenched in snot, tears and stickiness from the boiled sweets the line ladies used to bribe the kids to stay put. The line ladies would have blisters from their new shoes, tide marks where their face powder had gathered under their chins from the sweat and stress of watching so many kids and literally trying to keep them in line and several hats will have drifted to the front or the back of heads on top of now flattened recently washed and set hair.
The final haul back to each respective Church as the walkers parted ways always resembled a herd of fancy dressed refugees, limping, crying, hungry, thirsty and silently vowing never to do it again.
No wonder you got compliments.
