Usually I do a lot of blogging in my head before I actually write, but this month I find my head is filled with competing demands. My online work is back online, but I’m still in catch-up mode. Docent training is fascinating, but requires as much time as any other college course. Taxes are a looming nightmare of data gathering, involving two states and two real estate transactions. We’re even getting a handful of visitors from the snow states. I want to blog, though, so I’m just going to write about yesterday, Seabright Morris’ Winter Day of Dance.

This was my first public appearance as a Morris dancer. I had a lot of fun and only dropped my stick once out of six times doing the spin-toss move. Here I am in our Border kit, looking like a plump bird. Well, we aim to entertain and amuse.

It was a sunny day and fairly warm, especially when dancing in such a voluminous costume. Our small team had a good turnout, including our oldest member, who is 84 and very sharp, a living testimony to the healthful aspects of folk dancing. Everyone wasn’t needed for every dance so I had an opportunity to add to my Youtube collection.

We met at 11:00 and danced until 3:00 or so. This wasn’t really four straight hours of dancing. There were two teams, so we took turns, and walked to different sites, and chatted with each other and with watchers, and took a short lunch break. Nonetheless, my body was ready for our pub break when it came. The pub was Rosie McCann’s, which was meaningful to my husband and me because The Star of the County Down was our wedding waltz. For those of you thinking, that’s not normally a waltz, that’s true, but it can be.

Cool fact: Morris dancing is mentioned three times in Don Quixote.

After an early dinner, some of us went on to an evening contra dance. This dance had a charming, rare feature: Too Few Women. That never happens on the East Coast. I danced the entire first half without stopping. The band was talented and creative and there was another rare treat, a contra medley. As long as I don’t stop moving, the energy keeps flowing, but when break time arrived, I wilted. We decided to go home and hit the hot tub. Sorry, Extra Men.