It was lovely. Really, truly lovely. Everybody, young, old, and the middle, was in costume. There was a bishop in a white cope-like object and a kind of episcopal nurses's hat made of white sheeting and braid. There was a ghostly 18th C. girl with wide panniers and layers of grey gauze and a huge, puffy wig stuck with roses and a fairy. There
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The event sounds as if it was divine, the scrapes and bruises and slings and arrows of misfortune, less so.
Oz
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