Extravaganza: a spectacular entertainment or production.

Other towns do Switching-on-the-Christmas-Lights. Frome has an Extravaganza. On a cold but fine night literally thousands lined the main road cheering as Jenson scorched up and down in his Formula 1 car doing donuts, and also more sedately in the Santander open-top, waving and sometimes dismounting to give a hug or an autograph. Oh, and he switched on some lights too ~ not that we cared, most of them were on already but we'd saved him a tree: a suitable pagan emblem for a demigod. "Frome is just a dot on the map but he's shown you can go out and conquer the world" declaimed the emotional compère introducing our most illustrious export, as the Youth Town Band played. I didn't get a close-up so nicked one from the BBC (who also made a great video for Points West) showing the switching-on moment with the Frome Mayor on the left, because I really like mentioning that Dicken is the youngest, tallest, Mayor in the country. Warm-up acts included bands, choirs, Muriel Lavender in a viridian corset, and the three sweet little winners of the Christmas card competition.

 In fact having a street party was such fun we did it all again next day, though without Jenson, but with street music and an amazing Food Fair at the Silk Mill where the yard was filled with stalls of amazing scoff ~ lush fish soup from La Paimpolaise ~ with a noon-till-late all-age party with blues & reggae disco. Frome Library edged in on the festivities discreetly by ensuring their evening talk on historical fiction had a focus on Christmas celebrations through the ages, with four local writers on the panel (Jenny Barden, David Lassman, Kylie Fitzpatrick and Tricia Wastvedt) all entertaining as well as interestingly informative. Eras ranged from Elizabethan 'Lords of Misrule' to Nazi suppression, and saw the first emergence of media-message impact: the picture of Prince Albert's decorated tree that changed England's festive focus from burning yule log to dressed pine forever...

And then we did it again, the street celebrations thing I mean not the library talk, as Sunday was Frome Super Market day with roads closed to traffic and open to stalls selling everything you could imagine to wear, give, eat, drink, or put on your bike. Mayor Dicken was out in a different role hawking ties ~ yes, if you're inspired by tales of the independent state of Frome, you can buy the tie: colours still available are bright blue, bright red, bright green & bright orange... bright yellow has sold out. Lots of tastings of local products, and the busking stage extra good this month with Tell-Tale Signs poguing out Fairy Tales of New York and world songs from massed voices of Jackdaws choir. And as the disco lights in the Silk Mill go out and the glittering street lights in town come on, we settle down on facebook with greenie grumblings about Buttonmania versus consumerism....
So to end this Frome-obsessive posting: photo-journalist Edward Johnson has created A Story of Frome on his gallery website. It's told entirely in portraits of locals who work creatively here, and I'm delighted to be included (penultimate picture) and to see some good friends there. I can think of several more who deserve a place, so hopefully there'll be a second gallery soon.

Hundreds of mobile phones flashed in the market place as Frome's favourite son stepped up to accept the freedom of the town on Tuesday. Cheers and flag-waving greeted Jenson Button as he told us he felt privileged, though no-one seems sure what the honour entails ("Driving his goats down the main street?" Rosie wondered). The PA system didn't work and the stage wasn't high enough, but we all know he's total eye-candy and what can you say in a speech except, Thankyou it's just what I wanted.

Meanwhile down in Dorset, local celebrations were more vigorous: pitched battle between Viking and Saxon armies at Corfe Castle, with a helpful historical commentary from the sidelines. "Alfred is getting pelted with rocks now - oops, that one's a loaf of bread." Warriors came in waves and bodies fell, remaining rather alarmingly on the field to be stumbled over by survivors with realistic looking weaponry. As neither side seemed to be flagging we asked a saxon child how long battle would rage. "A..a..ages" he replied, with a seen-it-all roll of his eyes, so we left history to look after itself and went off for a cream tea.

Rosie and I went to see Love Song by John Kolvenbach, one of the Bristol Old Vic Theatre School productions at the Alma Tavern. As you'd expect from young professionals, the acting was immaculate: Nick Blakeley - who gave an unforgettable performance Upstairs at the Lansdown last summer - was outstanding in the role of Beane, socially inept and withdrawn but ultimately transformed by love. There was much that was enjoyable too in the slick bickering of his sister and brother-in-law, and their own journey, but ultimately the contrast of crisp banter and poignant rapport, both unrealistic in deeply different ways, wasn't really in balance and failed to seduce us.

Wild in the Country was the theme for Frome's May Poetry Cafe, with Rose Flint our guest of the night. Rose's exquisitely sensuous poems are a hard act to follow but sixteen poets maintained an extraordinarily high standard. My personal peaks were Dianne Penny's delicate, luminous, performance and the plangent words of William Blake set to music by Niall McDevitt, but everyone deserved commendation in a really enjoyable night.
And here's Alex, Arthur (Scafell), and Alicia, who led off the evening with a 'farewell tribute to Paula' who has quit as director of the Merlin Theatre - and thanks to Paula for joining in the joke with goodhumoured grace. Indeed, Paula tells us she will return at pantomime times to judge for us again!
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