H and I were
sitting in the bath last night, I had the plughole end. I was reading "Ethel the
Aadvark goes Quantity Surveying"; H was reading "Cambrian Popular
Antiquities" published in 1815, and compiled by the Rev. Peter Roberts, Rector in
nearby Llanarmon. "Wanker" said H, not know for his lengthy prose.
"Uh?" I replied, as though I was at all interested. "Wanker" he
repeated. To precis our single word conversation, H was reading an account about nine
Morris dancers, all blackfaced except the Branch Bearer, with an eroneous link to
Shakespeare's mention of "Nine Men's Morris", the board game. "Wanker"
I agreed. "Total tosser" H threw in needlessly, just to have the last say.
"Hmm.." I thought, "Nine Men.'s Morris"and "Error". It reminded me, Sunday was to be the pre-May dance out of Clerical Error, who have nine new members chomping at the bit to dance. "Tosser" said H, for no real reason now, but languishing in the phonetic melody of the word. "Tosser, Tosser, Tosser."
The weather has been bad in North Wales, recently. Cold and wet for so long, Sunday was no different. We woke to the sound of heavy rain hammering on the roof of the hutch. The gig had been booked at short notice, and with the bad weather, attendance would be low. The first gig was "Y Plassau" a large farm that had its own brewery and restaurant. There was no need for directions, a short trek to the bar discovered 24 Clericals in kit. Some of the newer members were already well lubricated, and had that startled rabbit look in their eyes. They were nervous. They were very nervous. Padraig was already making many trips to the loo. There was a bit of quiet belching and farting. The team is compassionate, and sensitive to such a moment. Well, except for Scuds who declared that all new members should start by performing a public solo jig. We stayed in the bar as it was better than standing out in the rain. Unfortunately the sun came out and we were ushered away.
Musician Bob with his music on his hat
Today, the following new members were dancing out for the first time :
This was also only the second dance out for :
Still to dance out is :
Ali, the Foreman decided that we should use Dance Pattern 1; a good choice. The team danced on with Not For Joe. The problem with having so many dancers performing is that they should all be able to hear the calls. This has been remedied by calling from the middle. Whilst many performed their first public dance, Scuds and I, the originators of the team, pushed and poked our chicks like broody hens, clucking at their satisfactory performance.
Shelley and Angie pissed, and it's only Opening Time
Into White Ladies Aston, and the startled rabbit look was still there. The two mother hens danced down the centre of the set, and alongside it, sometimes dancing with their arm around the waist of lost dancers, making the dance just look more complex than it was. Now for the experienced dancers to flex their Morris muscles and display their art with Ragged Crow. No sooner than the dance had finished, Ron, who had only danced once before burst into his Mummers introduction. The play held the audience, whilst the team assembled for their last dance of Wrekin Havoc. The trick would be to bottle the audience before the dancing is completed.
"What Ho!"
Beer break. The restaurant was famed for its cuisine, so we all had chips. The word was out. Dance Pattern 2. Everyone a little nervous. That will be Much Wenlock and Craven Stomp for the new members; Upton Stick and What Ho! for the experienced dancers, and St. Winifred's Well play and Bob's sack escape trick. The rain came and went. Then came again. Then went. A couple of the beginners were getting cocky now. Been there. Done that.
"What Ho!" finale
The audience had disappeared with the sunshine. Time to move on. With the warning that the next gig is "dry", Heather and Simon filled one of the collection buckets with beer, to tie themselves over. Off to Erddig.
Dragon kicks Aubrey up the arse
With the weather looking better, the day-trippers were out. This Stately Home has a large number of outbuildings, still with their Victorian equipment in place. A cobbled courtyard seemed popular with the tourists, although was a little difficult to dance. It was quickly realised that there were many horse troughs full of water. These featured heavily in the following two dance patterns, as the team danced and splashed around, with hats, shoes and dancer's ending up in the troughs. Patterns 1 and 2 were repeated. Pattern 3 didn't get a look-in, although Bedlam preceded pattern 2, a version where sticks were dropped at every opportunity, heys were danced in all directions except the correct direction, and post mortems pointed out that it was everyone else's fault.
"Bedlam" Who's dropped that stick?
In the Mummer's play, Aubrey, performing for the first time, fluffed his lines, and started to talk to the audience about it. To everyone's suprise, he did this in prose, elevating himself from the situation.
Pleased that our freshers had started well, cold, tired and wet, H and I headed back to the mansion and had the maid run a bath. We succumbed to the hot water and Matey children's foam bubbles.
"Tosser" said H.