It is damp, reading a burnout book while there will be a parade. They will be a coffee back van, now they will be potatoes.
There wasn't any potatoes. Merely a crumb of a chocolate flapjack, chicken strips from a takeaway. It was still a good run though.
What a humble way of things to be reminded of, with the car and the blaring mix board of the radio going on. Vary the amount o bustle within the two hours and the moment in the takeaway, without the potatoes, was enough. Brought my memories back to five.
Most memoirs are merely journals, this is a journal of a happy moment and tradition of a that's bringing culture into a town with the marching band drums that shake my ears.
These multitudes of lights are points of illumination that bring us together. They said thanks for the cheer.