For font's sake!

There is a Christening at the church today –well I think it’s a christening. People are too casually dressed for a funeral or even a wedding (which usually takes place on a Saturday).

Some of the guests are dressed more for the ensuing party than the service. I spot gold court shoes, black leggings, a silver dress and that's just the men... no not really. Finally, I spot a lump in a shrug swinging her handbag like an extra from Band of Gold.

The shrugger-lump's family (top) were not as out of place as the mum in black leggings and heels (below) who has dressed her children in a similar vein… What will the vicar think?

I watched the christening from my window feeling more and more like Jimmy Stewart in a scene from rear window as people murder fashion through my lens. Unfortunately, there is no Grace Kelly to send on a styling mission.

The Vicar has retired home to lunch after the christening without visiting us to perform an exorcism on the poltergeist that is Daddy Shortlegs who is still rearranging the kitchen stools into a heap in the middle of the floor so that he can get into cupboards and rearrange even more things unnecessarily.

The smell of burnt cardboard and Richard’s raised voice lets me know that Jack has cooked a “Chicken and Potatoes” meal for one. I say cooked but mean cremated as among the instructions on the box were such snippets as “unsuitable for microwaves” and “cook for 28 minutes” – so this has translated to put in a microwave for 28 minutes – you could cook a whole bloody chicken in that time!

So today we have had one christening, four fashion victims and a cremation. I’m not sure if there is a poem to fit the occasion although with 15 minutes still flashing on the microwave we can settle for “Stop all the clocks!”