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YOUR CART

A view from the corner shop

Picture

10/9/2020 0 Comments

Are you going?

‘Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Martley, Claines, the High Street and Hive…’

You may sort of remember this song by Simon and Garfunkel. It was released in 1966 but is based on an old (or olde if we want some consistency with our shop brand) English folk song from the Fourteenth Century.

Scarborough Fair was itself established in 1253 by a royal charter, granted by King Henry III of England and was actually a huge trading event, held in Scarborough on the east coast of Yorkshire, and lasting for over a month. Traders came from all over northern Europe and sales of seaside rock, well, rocketed.

The song is about unrequited love and it’s hard to get things right at the moment isn’t it? Michelle and I think that Worcester City Council did absolutely the right thing on everyone’s behalf by cancelling this year’s Victorian Christmas Fair (or Fayre…) on safety grounds if nothing else.

Modern-day traders and stallholders will undoubtedly feel the effects. We ran a sweets trailer before opening our shop in Worcester two and a half years ago and know how difficult it is when events are cancelled, especially in terms of cash flow.

Tough love is hard to handle and not everybody agreed with us or the Council. If there had been a spike in virus cases, people would have pointed the finger and asked what on earth the councillors were thinking? If Covid-19 cases somehow dissipate, people will point the finger and ask what on earth the councillors were thinking?

We shall miss the footfall of course and welcoming so many visitors to our sweet shop. Presumably, most of the population of Wales will also miss the excursions to our lovely city that weekend, and write folk songs instead…

Regardless of this news, we are busily planning for Christmas, in the expectation that people will buy their gifts earlier in case of Herodendus problems later. We have two lovely new ranges of chocolates from Ireland and Belgium, and Barkley’s Mints will freshen the breath of even the most overworked of dwarves – and that’s just in our basement.

My favourite flavour of mints (is that a contradiction in terms?) is cinnamon, but I think that has more to do with my memories of Christmas spices in my Mum’s kitchen than my ongoing obsession with rectangular tins.

We also have beautiful new tins of vanilla fudge for horse lovers (not that the fudge needs to be fed to the animals themselves). Various types of our equine friends are featured against a white background and even the ingredients label is styled on a stable door. They are already selling quickly, and I don’t think they will see December unless of course they refuse at the final fence, as I sometimes do.

It feels odd to be planning Christmas in September, but at the same time rather lovely to think of happy times as the winds and chills of autumn take hold. The shop is an especially magical place in the last months of the year and I hope we will be able to stay open for you to enjoy it with us.

Soon after Scarborough Fair was established, plague hit England. The Black Death remains the deadliest pandemic in human history, hugely more costly in human lives than even the ‘Spanish Flu’ of a hundred years ago. Tragically, tens of millions died but, thankfully, some were spared.
​
‘Are you going to the Worcester Victorian Christmas Fayre?’
Not this year, but hopefully next.

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    Author

    I am a writer and historian with a passion for sweets and football (not necessarily in that order!). I write fiction and non-fiction and, after working in the media for over 30 years, now run a sweet shop with my wife, Michelle, trading as Mr Simms Worcester. I also write about the history of sweets in a series of blog posts: 'A Funny Thing Happened on the way to the Sweet Shop.'

    Our shop is situated on the corner of Worcester's High Street and Fish Street - hence the title of this blog. I will be writing a weekly piece on thoughts and developments both in the world of sweets, the High Street and Worcestershire in general. All thoughts are my own. 

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