Yesterday was a national celebration. In many communities street parties sprung up without official assistance, subsidy or guidance on how to do them. In many cases people probably just shut their side street and got on with, safe in the knowledge that the pettifogging Inspectors were likely to be having the day off. It was a day when the Union flag predominated and was flown with pride.
What was so good was the celebration of the amateur, the work of the unsung heroine or hero locally who organised and arranged the party, and the loving hard work of the many who baked cakes, made sandwiches, assembled garden tables and flat packed chairs and converted their Close or Avenue into an out doors venue.
It was a treat to have a day without money. The street parties were there just to enjoy and to discover our common enthusiaism for our country and its ancient ceremonies. No colecting tins were rattled, no entrance fees requested. We knew we could rely on each other to supply our share of the fare and to enjoy the shared occasion.
It was day for the amateur. It was a day for over the top home baked cakes, that lacked the mechanical precison of the shop cake but gave us something more precious – the love and flavour of home baking. It was day for party games and sports , a day to meet and talk to the neighbours, a day to put the car away and enjoy a slower pace of life. It was a day for colourful bunting and childrens’ drawings.