Saturday, May 22, 2010
Nuts in May
The squawking of horsehair upon catgut, the thwacking of sticks, the merry jingle of noddy bells...
Ah yes. It’s that time of year again.
The Morris Men are back from wherever it is they migrate to in the winter, prancing about on my patio, and frightening the ducks with their strange cries.
It’s supposed to represent the heart of old Albion, the epitome of Englishness, but Morris dancing always seems vaguely foreign to me. Like Trick-or-Treating, or boules, I don't really get it, and so I can never muster much enthusiasm. Still, they’re the ones that are out in the sunshine dancing and drinking beer, whilst I’m sitting at my laptop working, so maybe they’re not as daft as they look.