It must have been total carnage, as well as an appalling sight. An advancing army of seamstresses, shop workers and naughty little girls impaled on their own scissors, faces contorted by the changing wind and the blood in their veins dried through over-sprinkling of vinegar on fish and chips.
Despite extensive research using the ever-reliable Wikipedia, plus back issues of Tell Me Why, I can find no reference to this event in any history book. The only conclusion I can reach is that it was oral history, passed down by grandmothers all over the world.
It was, after all, my own grandmother who, when as a child innocently picked up scissors, warned me not to run with them. I had no intention of sprinting off, scissors in hand, but as I’d been instructed not to, my fundamental disobedience and naughtiness made me want to try it immediately. I stuck my tongue out petulantly as she turned her back, but that grandma’s Third Eye spotted me and I received a second warning, “If the wind changes, your face will stay like that.” Really? Doomed to go through life with my tongue lolling out? I didn’t like the sound of that at all and checking that there was no wind inside the house, other than what was coming from the dog, tucked into the fish and chips she’d brought in for lunch. What’s fish and chips without vinegar? And how much vinegar is enough? Enough to float the fish on a vinegar lake, that’s enough. The loud tutting showed her disapproval. Yes, she confirmed, too much vinegar would dry my blood, it was a truism.
Thank goodness for grandmotherly wisdom.