Norton of Morton

The 23^rd April marks St. George’s Day, when England collectively Morris dances, feasts on the finest roast beef our local butchers can muster and Afternoon Tea becomes an all-day affair.

As I write this, I am stood in a queue, draped in a flag of St. George, eating fish and chips, with a cup of tea, outside in the rain. 

Shortly, the sun will put his hat on and I will enjoy a brisk game of croquet. With my hair slightly mussed after my sporty escapade, I will sip fragrant, amber Earl Grey tea in a delicate, china cup and tuck into cucumber sandwiches. These will quickly be followed by freshly-baked scones, covered in clotted cream and a big dollop of jam.