We came here today to celebrate the Queen's Diamond Jubilee. Elizabeth became Queen of England at the very young age of 25. I wonder what it was like for her to loose her freedom at such a young age, to be bound by tradition and formality in a way that is beyond imagining.
Today is not a time to focus on these things. The parish council put on a lovely event which included a picnic for the children and free commemorative mugs for each. It makes sense that a tea mug would be included given that Barlaston is the home of Josiah Wedgwood - yes, that Wedgwood.
The skies stayed mercifully clear, unlike yesterday when the nation was drenched in an autumnal blitz of wind and rain. It can't have been pleasant out there on the Thames as all those boats rowed past. Not being anywhere near London, we watched the boats process from the safety of our living room.
Today was just perfect, however, and it did appear as if the entire village was in attendance. Many were dressed in red, white and blue and more than a few balding heads had been decorated with Union Jacks.
In addition to the children's picnic, there were stalls and games galore, a hog roast, and the cricket club bar was open for business. It was middle England at it's finest - a once in a lifetime opportunity to come out and celebrate being British.
For me, it was the beginning of a long good bye.
