No dabbling in the dew this morning – I’d have had to put my wellies on and am not sure how you tell dew that has risen from rain that has fallen.
No Morris dancers with their bells and wooden staves, and no dancing round the Maypole.
No Green Man and no May Queen.
Continue reading “maybe; maybe not”
When I lived in Spain I used to complain about how long the holiday season lasted: it seemed to stretch all the way from the fiestas at the beginning of December until past Twelfth Night.**
Here in the UK, though, much as I was bemoaning the supermarket aisles crammed with marzipan, iced cake and mince pies back in October, Christmas seems to be a bit of a flash in the pan.
Continue reading “almost over”
I’ve never been much of a one for parties and events, so don’t usually have to worry about juggling a diary full of Christmas lunches and business gatherings, and coping with burning the candle at both ends, with breakfast meetings following hard on the (high) heels of fancy meals and late night drinks.
This year, though, the holiday season celebrations seem to have started early and for some reason I am more involved than ever before.
Continue reading “senseless”
It’s been a beautiful day and, for once, I’ve spent very little time at my computer.
It’s the local folk festival this weekend and there has been music and a general festive air throughout the town. At the end of the road, groups played Led Zeppelin and David Bowie covers, neither of which count as folk to me, though I admit I enjoyed them rather more than I did the Morris dancing.
Continue reading “running late”
It’s that time of year: we’ve had the solstice and we’ve had Midsummer; at Glastonbury the festival continues until Sunday; there are concerts of music and “performance” in the nearby city and, in the town, four generations of women have silk flowers threaded through their hair…
Continue reading “summer”
don't confuse the narrator 