As Tennyson observed, "In the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love."
In Norwich, an old man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of dressing up in bells and clogs and skipping gaily through the streets.
To tell the truth, one should never mock Morris Dancers. A group of hard-drinking men armed with bloody great sticks and swords can look after themselves quite nicely, thank you.
That's why they make them wear bells; so you can hear them coming and get the hell out of their way.
Just as well, considering that traditionally they would chase the local maidens off into the woods and celebrate spring as it should be celebrated; a pleasant combination of flowering and deflowering.
So, let's celebrate the coming of spring the English way:
"Excuse me, madame; we notice you have a young daughter …"
Young men should also be very, very afraid.
Phil pointed this lot out to me:"Hey, look! They're dressed as Agrajag!"
This, by the way, is what English people do with their spare time.
I'm so glad I don't have any spare time.
"Don't mess with me, sonny; these clogs can crack your shins wide open."A question for my Colonial bolgpals:
In what weird way does your local community herald the coming of spring?
