As ever,. we marked the festive season with a little dance out on Boxing Day.
Amongst the spectators were our old members Ben and Emma. Who proved they could remember a dance or two – if pushed.
We did dance for quite a while, but we’ll spare you a picture of everything. Enjoy!
(More in a late catchup of events your humble script missed.)
Wooton does itself well with its annual fête. We’ve been lucky enough to be asked to dance there several times, and it’s always a fun day out.
(And another late catchup on an event your scribe missed.)
The White Horse Folk Festival is a small festival in late summer. It starts with those Morris sides that can make it dancing on top of the venerable White Horse itself.
The weather was a little unpromising, but I think I recognise Icknield Way, Cornucopia and the Garston Gallopers amongst the fray.
A few pictures from the top of the hill.
After all the fun of the top of the hill, a little lunchtime dance somewhere more sheltered.
(First in a series of late reports on events your humble scribe missed).
We were supposed to be having a quiet evening dance out by ourselves at the Seacourt, but the dreaded Covid struck. Luckily, the Prince of Wales at Shippon could host us at short notice.
I must say, it does look sunny.
The Plough at Long Whittenham is another of our regular summer stops, and it was great to be back in their garden. There were a goodly number of locals there, enjoying a warm late July evening. Unusually, not many of them ran away the minute we got going.
We’d been hoping some of Towersey Morris might also turn up, but in the event we were undisturbed.
We did our usual thing – some dances followed by some tunes and songs as night fell.
In truth, we remain a bit rusty and unpractised. But after the last 18 months, we’ll settle for being rusty and unpractised but out dancing again.
In those long-forgotten ‘normal’ times, we made an annual visit to the Fox at Denchworth as guests of Icknield Way. Perhaps the world is slowly getting back to rights again.
It was a warm evening, and the garden was packed with diners. Ah-ha! A captive audience.
Icknield had brought alone their youth division. I believe it was their first public appearance. They did very well.
As ever, we finished the evening with some tunes while the light faded. What can I say? It’s nice to be back.
No, we don’t restrict our outside-Botley dance outs to pubs named ‘The N Bells’. Really.
The Eight Bells at Eaton is an old favourite of ours, and while they were still restricted to largely outside activity, the weather was up to allowing us to mildly disturb those enjoying a summer evening with food and drink.
We also took a good look at the pub sign. It’s relatively new, and painted by our very own BarberaP. It looked quite magnificent in the evening light. She’s also restored the predecessor sign on which it’s based, which now hangs inside the pub.
We weren’t overflowing with dancers, and were interrupted by the arrival of spring rolls and chips that required attention, but as a way of losing a bit more of our dance rust, it was very just what we needed.
July dawns, and with it a summer evening with our old chums Old Speckled Hen. They were feeling short of match practice, so just came to watch.
It was one of those evenings rare in an English summer, where it was not only warm but the half-promise of some rain did not materialise.
Our new recruit, Josh, has only had a limited opportunity to practice. But by heck, he’s learned quickly – and looks the part, too.
With the help of a dancer borrowed on the spot from Headington Quarry, we danced into the dusk, and finally managed to entice the assembled Hens into an impromptu dance.
When we’d all finished with a mass Bonny Green, time for tunes and songs as the sun set. Oh, summer dance outs. We’ve missed you.
Back at the start of March 2020, we gaily said we’re be taking a short break but we’d see you later in the year. Well, that went to plan, didn’t it?
And now, here we are, with half 2021 never to return. But we’re finally out in public again, with a short summer programme, starting this week at our old haunt, the Seacourt Bridge in Botley.
We have had a little practice, but we are a bit rusty. Spectators (who were mercifully few) are, in fact, liable to to get showered in iron oxide.
Also mercifully, the weather was kind. And we remember more that I think we feared we might.
As per usual, once we’d finished dancing, a little quiet music session.
For obvious reasons the usual Oxford May Morning festivities didn’t happen. Except they did – they moved on line.
We’ll post a longer description of what happened another time. But, thanks to a great idea and much hard work from Kate, we did contribute to the festivities. Here’s our bit!