'Seriously uncool'

It's Sunday morning and The Curate has gone off for the morning to take services in neighbouring parishes. I won the dog walking in the rain which usually would have been fine, but I can't move. There was a church fund raising event for the young people of the parish last night. A well known local ceilidh band - Oggle Band, offered their services to help raise funds by providing the music for a community barn dance. Their music is energetic and exciting - mixing the traditional folk with jazz and rock. With a gathering of people where the average age must have been over 65, I wondered how many would actually be dancing. In young people's terms this type of entertainment is rated as 'seriously uncool' and some husbands had been dragged there by their wives. (The fish and chip supper brought in from the local fish and chip shop round the corner, may have helped). But the music was infectious.The Curate and I really enjoy these type of events and decided it was time to get fit and we challenged each other to dance every dance. By the end of the evening the atmosphere was amazing and the whole place was filled with laughter and boisterous disorder. Even the teenage lad who had sat silently in the corner at the beginning, was dancing with two ladies on his arms. Learning the dances is part of the enjoyment and getting it wrong, adds to the chaos. I can't think of any other type of entertainment that manages to combine such a wide range of age groups in one energetic activity. If you have a brilliant band with a good caller and you can get the people past their inhibitions and preconceived ideas and through the door  - this sort of entertainment is so enjoyable and not 'seriously uncool'. You just need to let your hair down a bit!

A hip and trendy vicar? Conversations in a Chip Shop

The first (short) week of term is over and I have returned to my weekly commute - and swapping from teacher to curate's wife for the weekend. I feel a lightness in my heart this week - is it because I know that this duel life may have an end date in sight or is it because I actually arrived back on the North coast in day light? The days must be getting longer (although the mornings have seem very, very black at 6.30 when I get up). 

The Curate looked tired and we decided that a fish and chip supper would restore both of us. Fish and chip shops are superb around us and when we found our local chippie shut we were not too perturbed. We decided to cross the river to buy our supper from the fish and chip shop in the pretty fishing village. We were welcomed into the small, warm shop and the owner chatted to us, asking The Curate if he had had a busy day and other small talk. It was all very convivial and The Curate hedged round the questions as it was clear that the Chip Shop owner hadn't realised that The Curate was a curate. With no slip in plastic collar and a checked clerical shirt on, how was he to know? So, feeling sorry for the Chip shop man, I told him The Curate was a curate - explaining it as an apprentice vicar. Well that was it. I thought we were never going to get our supper. At first the Chip Shop man didn't believe it  - saying "but you're so hip and trendy."!! ( On being told about this, youngest son said that the use of those terms meant that The Curate must be about twenty years out of date.) Next, The Curate was asked if he swore. To this he replied that it was quite possible that he did on occasion. Another look of disbelief, then the Chip Shop man asked if he drank. When The Curate said that he brewed his own beer I thought we might have got free chips. There then followed a long discussion on how The Curate got to be a curate and why aren't churches fun. The Chip Shop man was so surprised that The Curate had been a marine engineer prior to training ("You did have to train to be a vicar then?") He wanted to know if The Curate had to read the Bible and did any young people actually go to church? 
By this time I was beginning to think the fish must be burning and I was wondering if we were actually going to get fed. How is it that people have lost touch with vicars - or who has lost touch with whom?  But we were fed - with excellent fish and chips - and the promise that we would be seeing him again. With curious conversations in unexpected places, life certainly doesn't seem to be dull when I am with The Curate!