We've spent the weekend in unexpectedly bright sunshine in Arundel, on the sort of "dancing weekend" that our mixed team favours: i.e. one in which we occasionally fit in a dance or two in between the meals. I've go no time to say much about it, since I've been writing like mad these last few weeks, trying to finish an epic fanfic before going away ( Read more... )

Okay. Imagine that you've been told to wave a hankie above your head in a circular motion - i.e. a bit like the way you'd mime using a lasso, minus the need to throw it at the end. Have a go now, using your right hand. (The hankie can be imaginary.) Don't think about it, just do it however feels natural.

( Question under the cut )

This is my traditional "we were up long before the day-oh, to welcome in the summer, the summer and the May-oh!" post. Judging from the number of black raindrops on the weather map, the summer isn't going to bother turning up at the party, even though we're getting up extra specially early to welcome it, too. Oh well. English traditions feels all ( Read more... )

We were actually only away for half a weekend: a day trip with added Friday night. The ferries are very messed up at the moment, since someone crashed one of the boats into a buoy ("with a U," I belatedly added, when I was telling someone about this and could see by their face that they were wondering) at the same time as another was off on annual ( Read more... )

We returned from the festival at 12.30 last night, having decided to demolish the tent before our bar shift, in order to avoid another night sleeping an entire Field of Squelch away from the toilets. Although the tent was dry, the weather was very windy, which was... interesting. The tent decided that its aim in life was to be a sail or maybe a ( Read more... )

We've just got back from ( a few days of folk dance and ice cream on the mainland. )

We're about to head out into the rain, gales, cold, floods and thick squelchy mud to welcome in the summer. There's something wrong with this picture, but I can't quite put my finger on what it is.

Just got back from a short trip away - two days staying with my parents in the north of the Cotswolds, then hopping a mere 11 miles or so into Worcestershire for the Evesham Morris weekend. Although it was so close to where I was brought up, Evesham didn't feel at all like home. Home means rolling hills and Cotswold stone, not flat plains full of ( Read more... )

Perhaps the traditional songs require a little tweaking today ( Read more... )

What I've been doing lately ( Read more... )