Cycling home from the Shop With No Customers yesterday, although it did rain again the sky was the colour of the rapture. I thought, if the world was going to end it would look like that for maybe about five minutes or so before hand; in a still street the light will be very bright and the clouds will be very silver and the rain will stop without anyone noticing and the air will have the dirt clean wet pavement smell. Then the trumpets will sound.

But of course they didn't.

And in offices and school and on airplanes good Christian soldiers did not ascend to clouds of glory. Which is just as well because I saw one of them who went to the Convent with me in Marks and Spencers yesterday, where I was buying sensible underwear and lunch, and she has an interveiw for art school in a few days and she wouldn't want to miss it.

And as far as I know Captain Christian Union, a boy I know from school, who wishes I'd repent my flagrant athiesm, is still at Nottingham in the midst of some rather deliciously lurid rumours about his sexuality- which admittedly I've make more lurid everytime I tell pass them on.

They made an ambush once in the common room. The Christian Union. I was quite flattered. One by one they drifted over until we were outnumbered and tried to talk theology with me, because I'm in remission from Catholicism, I suppose. Then VB did an impression of someone speaking in tongues to demonstrate that anyone could do it and they all got rather quiet and tetchy and left.

Sister B has just been chosen as House Captain for Elm House at her school, which reminds me that the proudest achievement of my life was introducing corruption into junior school politics.

When I was in Year 6 (5th grade to the Americans and the last year before secondary school) and desperate to be house captain, because if you were you got to sit on chairs at front in assembly every week and read out the house points (I know, in retrospect the appeal of this elludes me). You also got to wear a badge (which I still have somewhere).

The problem was back in those days it was a popularity contest.
And I never had a chance of winning one of those.

So, I suggested to the teachers, just before the vote was about to be cast, that we should all say a little speech about why we should be house captain. The other little girls looked at me aghast, because they had no speeches prepared. And when it was my turn to say why I'd be such a good house captain I promised that it I won I'd give people sweets.

And it worked.

The sweet giving worked on an incentive system. The person who won the most housepoints everyweek would get the sweets. Which meant we became the most competitive house and at the end of the term Elm won overall and I got to hold up the House Cup.

By the time Sister A became house captain (years after I'd left the school) house captains were chosen exclusively through bribery and intimidation.

Now Sister B has become house captain no-one is allowed to make any election promises. They've banned it. They still have to make a speech though.

So that's my lasting legacy in this world; introducing electioneering into the House system of a small Church of England junior school.