Virgil Twobyfour’s Weekly Almanac

For the Week Commencing Monday 26th May 2025
— Also Known As —
The Blessed Banking Monday of Saint Pesket of the Rinse
Feast of the Unshriven Umbrella
The Dripping of the Lesser Spigots (according to the Calendar of Hentish Folly)
Second Widdershins Moon in the Time of Sprouting Goats

Greetings from the Bafflingly Sticky Side of May,

Lo! It is Bank Holiday once more here in the benighted isles — that sacred Monday when the populace collectively ignores their duties, loafs heavily, and causes intermittent traffic jams on narrow country lanes due to spontaneous car boot sales, ferret galas and elderly drivers attempting reverse in third gear.

Now, let us not forget that Bank Holiday was originally Benedictus Holidae, a rural ecclesiastical observance instituted by Saint Pesket of the Rinse, Patron Saint of Overdrawn Tithes and Inconvenient Queues. Tradition holds that on this day, villagers would deposit turnips into the mouths of clay effigies representing various sins (Greed, Indolence, Whistling Inside), before queuing for hours behind a local cow named Gloria in order to receive a hand-drawn receipt and a blessing.

Other forgotten holidays that may be quietly occurring this week include:

Wadger’s Eve (Wednesday night) – when children gather at the stump of the Old Ash in Lower Crampden to shout "Wadge!" until something answers.

The Festival of Lint (Thursday) – where offerings of pocket fluff are sewn into ceremonial trousers for the Grand Trousering, a dance that hasn’t been performed correctly since 1794, and caused a minor collapse in the cabbage markets.

⭐ HOROSCOPE: The Velvet Stoat (May 25–June 8, excluding the Tuesday)
You are cunning, beloved of sandwich spirits, and entirely magnetic to people holding clipboard surveys. This week brings a favourable alignment of the Lesser Spoons, so it is an excellent time to recommence projects involving jam, spectral chickens, or hedge-thatching. Avoid arguments with authority figures, especially if they are made of wicker and humming faintly.

🧺 Lost Object of the Week:
One galvanised bread hat.
Reported missing after the Bake-Off & Bellowing Fair in Little Grutchley. Owner last seen running toward the churchyard shouting “I am the Yeast!” If found, please return to Vera Mumbler via the chasm behind the vicarage.

📣 Village Gossip:
Someone has been rearranging the stones atop Peg’s Folly and no one is admitting it. Last week they spelled “COWARD”. This week: “SOUP?”.

Reg Thindle’s solar-powered lawnmower has gone feral again. DO NOT APPROACH if it begins to chant.

Miss Lestrange’s grandson was seen buying six aubergines and a bell. Interpretations vary.

🪧 Classifieds
FOR SALE: 14 unopened jars of ‘Experimental’ jam. Labels read: “Parsnip & Dread”. £2.50 or best offer.

WANTED: A new left boot (size 9½), must not scream. Enquire behind the curtains at number 3, Porridge Lane.

SERVICES: Bobbing Eric offers artisanal cobweb arranging, brisk whispering, and to stand just behind you when you're alone. POA.

📖 Snippet from A Conversation Overheard in the Post Office:
Mrs Flimp: “Well I says to her, if you’re going to keep ferrets in the bread bin, you should at least label the loaves.”
Mr Flimp: “There weren’t no loaves left. Just regret and whiskers.”

🖼️ Woodcut of the Week:
“A Depiction of Saint Pesket’s Lesser Lending Office (West Window), from the Rare Volume ‘Ecclesiastical Bureaucraffiti’”
[Image to follow shortly from the Library's Forbidden Cabinet (Drawer B, under the lock of regret).]

Until next we meet, dear reader,
Remember to tithe your jam, bless your boots, and never trust a goat that winks.

With holy confusion,
Virgil Twobyfour
Shwami of the Unknowable Barn

(P.S. Still trying to upload this to Instagraph. I think I may have sent a photo of my knee instead. Sorry if you've seen it.)