It's the day before Christmas

Early rise for me and a hour spent netting black currant bushes and watering my nursery. I've biked down into the town, now that the sea fog has lifted and the sun is blazing, to find be-jandalled visitors flip-flopping up and down the street already, window-shopping and heading cafe-wards. Our estuary, I'm noticing each time I cross the bridge, is becoming choked with green slime. Pauline's letter to the editor today points the finger at those she believes are responsible and her forthrightness will cause ripples I'm sure. The Big Parade is planned to start at 7 o'clock tonight, and the pulling-on of elf-suits and buffing of monstrous farm vehicles will be part of many a Rivertonian's day, and it's one that promises to be scorching. In the past, there have been some spectacular deflations and derailments during the parade, some of which I've unconsciously engineered, but tonight, Santa willing, everything will go as planned. Mind you...

Robert remembers an earlier parade...