It takes quite a bit of effort to convince everyone that the Govan Fair is actually set to start earlier this year. No one will believe it, even though I show them on a website and say I saw a sign in a window. Most of the family shake their heads - and not only cos the time has changed. Cousin Ned again refuses to be part of the artzgradz wee pet project. haha!
So, not the usual leisurely get together before spilling onto the streets to watch the floats roll by, but a hasty gulp down your dinner - if you get a chance - and back out the door.
By half six, the Govan Road is swarming with people heading back from Elder Park and the greatest show on earth at Zippo's Circus tent. Gangs of teen boys nip along and teen girls strut. Maws and paws struggle along with prams and trailing weans. Plenty of the raucous shouts and cries and the sun has managed to put in a bit of an appearance to help us get in the mood.
Outside the Harmony, two ladies of a certain age bemoan the crowds. The blonde is dressed in a sort of ebony crepe de chine, all floaty, and her accessories are chunky chains and bracelets of gold, rings dazzling on her fingers as she slowly lifts a cigarette to her ruby red lips and draws in deeply. Her friend is showing more flesh, a maxi dress in white with splashes of tropical colour, complemented by a deep bottled tan, a la saint tropez. Both teeter on spiky stiletto sandals, and addressing an unkempt man who is eagerly buzzing round them, one whines "It's aw right, wiv goat time. Wur no goin up the toon tae la'er oan."
Wee Raberta - stuff a your nightmerrs hen.
Harry the Hat
May your bubbles ever blow bright on the fair winds of Govan