As we do every year, the day began with rousing renditions of "Hail Victoria" and the other carols of the season. The children were not amused by the 6 am waking but we never were when we were young either. "It's all part of the fun!" I said to them as we got into our heavy tweed outfits. After the oatmeal, we set out down the road to the nearest civic building - in our case a public works utility shed - to shout the "Three Thank Yous" after which we walked the streets until noon.

Our luncheon of silence consisted of cold tongue, potted head and my own cheeses was followed by some bracing parlour games. As the afternoon faded and the second naps ended, the smell of the roasted marrow and cabbage filled the house. And - though paler and a little sicklier - the children were happy as they unshoed themselves, put away the coats for another year and jumped into bed at the first sign of dusk gleefully reminding each other that a whole year would pass until the next Victoria Day.