Right everybody, sing along now -
"It's such a perfect day,
You'll wish you spent it with me..."
Obviously I'm paraphrasing, but I've just had the best day ever.
I woke up and had a nice chat with Steve whilst playing solitaire on my Iphone, in bed, with a hot lemon (don't drink tea). Good start.
Then had a nice bath and when I got out Steve had made bacon and eggs. Getting better.
Then Asda delivered our groceries. I had signed up for online shopping yesterday and placed an order, only to have the lovely surprise of getting a bonus that took £75 off the total. Seventy five quid! I had to order more food just to make up the total. Even with the cost of delivery we ended up spending less than two quid and the fridge is full! Brilliant!
Then we pootled down the road and things picked up even more.
At the bottom of our hill is a small street of shops that - despite the busy road that runs through it - considers itself a separate community, almost a village in Bath, if you like. It's called Widcombe, and every two years they shut off the street, pull out all the stops, and have a massive street party called Widcombe Rising.
It was today and the sun shone on it with gusto. There was lots of street theatre, all the pubs were serving pints and Pimms, and the restaurants had hog roasts and currys and cakes etc., all out on stalls.
There was a ferris wheel, a helter skelter, a farmers market, morris dancers (obligatory), muscly young acrobats from Oz (nice), balloons and candy floss, and everything that makes up a good party including four different stages playing lots of different music, all day.
Our near neighbour is in a band called the Good Fridays, so we grabbed some Pimms and went to hear their set, and they were great. Plenty of updated eighties hits like 'Tainted love', and a guest appearance on the bongos of a nice chap Sam knew from way back.
Next we watched two hunky acrobats stand on their hands, and on huge piles of chairs, and take their shirts off, and do see-saw stunts, and did I mention, they took their shirts off? Really quite good..
Hungry now, so we wolfed down a hog roast bun each and headed up to the next stage to hear A Handbag of Harmonies, from that show on the telly - Last Choir Standing. Lots of pink, plenty of audience participation, terrific harmonies, great singalong songs, a totally camp conductor in a frilly shirt, and a marvellous Beatles medley to finish it all off. Love, love, loved it.
Needed a sit down now, so it was off to one of the churches for a cream tea, whilst stone masons chipped away outside, showcasing their work, (this is Bath - we have to have some 'posh').
Then, on our way down to the next stage, we bumped into old work colleagues of Steve, one of whom was playing in the band I had planned to see later. Nice touch down with them, arranged to meet up before the set, and mooched off to hear a jazzy funk band called The Bourbons, whilst queueing for the ferris wheel.
As it happens, Steve and I are both terrified of heights, but we tend to get brave every now and then and do battle with this fear by going up the Eiffel Tower or something like that. So today it was the Ferris wheel, which was always called a Big Wheel when I was a kid, but this one wasn't really that big. You could see over the houses at the top (if you looked, which we tried not to do too much ), but that was about all.
We both stayed very still, so as not to rock it, and I can honestly say that that is the tightest Steve has held my hand in a long time, so, result!
Then it was off to the stage for the Demolition Rhythm and Blues Band, and Steve's old mates, and a gin and tonic and chips. They turned out to be excellent. Steve's old mucker who was the lead singer, had a whole Jack Black, Tenacious D thing going, that worked fabulously well.
But it was the dancers who stole the show.
Earlier, the dance floor had been populated by small children and the kind of people who live in a home, not at home, which is all very sweet and I wish I was that brave about my dancing.
Now, however, they had mostly gone and a motley crew of individuals had assembled instead, in a line which moved gradually forward as they got more confident. They were headed up by a young man constructed mostly of tattoos, black shirt, Doc Martins, and a striking resemblance to Dennis Pennis. He danced like he had only minutes to live, but was on powerful drugs, and so didn't care. He busted some good moves too.
Alongside Mr enthusiastic there were two other celebrity lookalikes. There was an Ozzy Osbourne, (if Ozzy hadn't got famous, and actually lived in a caravan outside Chippenham), and a Gilly Goulden (who never let go of her pint the whole time, good on yer, girl).
More people got brave c'os the music was really good, the floor started to fill up, and we had front row seats, naturally.
A chap right in front of me clearly had a sense of rhythm in his head but the rest of his body danced to the beat of a different drum, or possible several. I was riveted. Every part of his body was moving, but no two parts were in time with each other. He was the King of all 'dads at a wedding' and my eyes were glued to him. I just couldn't work out how he (or anybody) could move that way. It was astonishing.
Then, just when we thought it couldn't get any better, SHE came along.
She was young, drunk, barefoot, and wearing a long blue dress. When she started to dance, she hitched up her dress to allow ease of movement, then it all got a bit suggestive, and her dress rode up a lot and she flashed her bum.
At this point, I thought it was accidental.
The more she danced, the more I realised how wrong I was. An old fella who had gamely tried to keep up with Dennis Pennis grabbed her hands for a dance, and, boy, did he get one! She flicked her dress up to boob height repeatedly now, showing all her tattoos and a rather small thong, and finished the dance by holding him close and crotch-humping him.
He was quite old, as I said, and we were all getting worried that she might give him a heart-attack. We never saw him again after that, but we reassurred ourselves that an organised event of this nature was sure to have a St Johns Ambulance on standby somewhere, and besides, she was now the floor show.
She really went for it and whirled around everywhere, flipping her dress up continually and frightening young children with her spotty bottom. I was craning my head to look but all the men were trying to pretend they weren't, and how the band kept focus I really don't know.
Dennis Pennis knew he had been totally upstaged, but frankly, I know pole dancers who would have been embarrassed to dance like that, so he was a worthy second place.
When it was all over we came home to comfy chairs, Top Gear on the telly for the guys, and the computer wating for me. Sam even said he'd got some homework done, so today is stratopherically good.
Sam is currently outside sitting on our steps, talking to the big, gnarly, toad that lives under our patio but has come up to take a little evening air, while I sip hot lemon and write this.
The last scents of honeysuckle drift on the breeze.
This has been a perfect day.
Bar none.
And now I'm off to watch Galaxy Quest - don't you wish you were me?
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