Decked out

Even the most die-hard republican would find it hard to avoid the gargantuan quantities of bunting that are currently smothering the country but at least the mood is jolly and, after a couple of years of general political and financial scariness and the cost of living on an ever- upwards trajectory, this comes as something of a welcome relief, even if - as we all know - it is only a temporary one . As Guardian journalist, Polly Toynbee tweeted today: 'I'm going to eat cake, jeer at the hats, enjoy myself on Sunday. I've paid for it, will have fun. Sorry.'

And I found myself nodding in agreement with this from Michele Grant: 'Jubilee cost 1m and feels like it belongs to everyone. Olympics cost 12bn and feels like it belongs to Coca Cola and Adidas.' (Thank you to author, Linda Grant, for retweeting her sister's wise words.)

But back to this Sunday . . . I confess that, as a Londoner in exile, I would LOVE to be standing beside the Thames to watch that pageant. There is frequent speculation as to what the true centre of London is - Piccadilly Circus, Trafalgar Square, Westminster Abbey? Ask a Londoner, however, and they will tell you that it is the river, the Thames, the city's great, pulsating, jugular vein, that is the true centre. And there is no better way to see London than from the Thames. More than 1,000 boats are taking part, from the surviving Dunkirk Little Ships to colourful narrowboats, from working boats to The Belem, a stately, three-masted 19th-century barque, built in Nantes and once a gift to Coco Chanel from her English lover. Sigh . . .

Circumstances dictate that I must remain here so the telly will have to do instead. Still, if I can't have London, I'll be happy to be in Dulverton, just a few miles from here, and which is definitely in a jolly mood, not least because its annual folk festival runs from today until 5 June. 

Dulverton Town hall (as seen in The Land Girls . . .)

Meanwhile, if you'd like to know what a small town on Exmoor has been doing to mark this rather special weekend, just take a look at some of Dulverton's shop windows, where irony and a sense of humour sit alongside the tasteful, the over-the-top, and the understated.

The dear old Queen has removed her crown and is having a well-earned rest at Acorn Antiques:

Mr and Mrs Queen give a whole new meaning to the term 'silver surfers' at the former site of the Courtyard Cafe (now for sale):

The crown, meanwhile, is on special high-security loan in the window at Rose Slee, purveyor of very fine upholstery fabrics:

Best friends are not forgotten at Dulverton Pet Supplies:

and the bunting is out at Bodmin House, where ace hairdressers, Ruth and Rosie (seen here), will do wonders for your barnet, at a fraction of what it would cost in the great metropolis:

There's nostalgia at the library:

and tri-colour twirls at White Horse Photography:

Everyone has been in raptures about this amazing creation at the Exclusive Cake Company:

but it's back to nostalgia at the antiquarian bookseller, Rothwell and Dunworth:

and at antiques dealer, Anthony Sampson - that's a Coronation Day issue of Country Life in the window:

It's no surprise that these two found their way into the window of Brimblecombe, whose owner, Jane, is something of a dog lover:

One of my favourite shops, Number Seven, has its own, unique, take on festive colours and artefacts. See more on their blogpost, Chapter Seven, here:

And if you are planning a tea party, you'll find just the thing at Louise's Antiques:

All these wonders within a few  yards of each other along Dulverton's main street:

But there was one more thing before I left. Something which gave my heart  a bit of a lurch:

We had one just like this once, about thirty years or so ago, but he (for it was a he) was stolen. His name was Jubilee Jim . . .

* * * * * 

Looking out of the window, as I write this, I can see my dear old neighbour across the road; he's now well advanced in years, a widower, and a highly decorated veteran of WWII. He is painstakingly hanging (equally elderly) bunting between the ancient yew trees that stand guard at the entrance of the driveway to his house. He and his late and much-loved wife raised their family here and his ancestors lived in this village, or close by, for many hundreds of years; the churchyard is full of his forebears.  And I discover that I have a lump in my throat. Sometimes, it doesn't pay to be too cynical.

Comments

[wendy]

I'm with you politically as to all the sentiment etc but with people evrywhere making their own gestures it certainly means something. I am looking forward to seeing the Flotilla (on tele of course...) But an especial thank you to you Boots for this delicious collection of pictures. Long my you reign...

[Lynne Kovan]

I'm with you on this. Sometimes it's just lovely to see villages and towns come to life, with that very British sense of humour. I live in Dorking, Surrey, and the local Knit and Natter group (of which I'm one) knitted a huge red white and blue scarf for the Dorking Cockerel which stands on a well placed roundabout. The local press have called us Gorilla Knitters. I think we could all do with a bit of fun in the financially hard-up, drought ridden country! I'm off to see the river pageant, and will post the results on www.lynnekovan.com, if it stops raining for 10 minutes. Happy Jubilee!

[60 going on 16]

Hello Wendy - I wanted to post something without appearing to come down on either side of the monarchist/republican divide.

Good to hear from you again Lynne - love that cockerel. I've signed up to follow you so look forward to the pageant photos and trust that you aren't all washed away. Enjoy the spectacle!

[Dancing Beastie]

This is such a delight to read, as Scotland is much more muted in its response to the Jubilee. I was inspired by a recent trip South, however, and have decked the castle in bunting, baked Jubilee cupcakes with the boys, and watched Jubilee programmes on TV until by last night we were rather 'Jubileed out'! I am happy to live far from urban cynicism.

I'm tickled, too, by the fact that you have a local folk festival this weekend. Almost at the opposite end of Britain, the Orkney folk festival was going strong at the same time! (See Sian's 'Life on a Small Island' blog.)

[colleen]

Just caught up with this lovely post which overlaps with my sentiments. I'm not really a red, white and blue kind of girl, but did find the fortitude and creativity of celebrants in the awful cold weather truly inspiring.