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there's never enough pictures of mrs.perou
here's how she looks today.
having recovered slightly from yesterday's christmas onslaught and the tryptophan overdose, ventured out to our local (favourite) pub.
we deliberately arrived after the mummers had finished (which afterwards we wondered why as our sons would have loved them too) but got there in time for the morris dancers (and a pint of strongbow).
the morris dancers do their business in the street outside the pub.
they have to: there are three times as many people drinking outside as there are in.
i LOVE morris dancers.
i know i'll end up as a morris dancer...despite their pansy demeanor (all that dancing with hankies) and that my old primary school teacher excluded me from folk dancing at school because i was 'too lanky'.
HA!
felt good to be in the bosom of some more traditional england though.
i'm starting to love this little village.
the locals congregated outside the pub booed any cars that couldn't wait for the next tune to finish: those who insisted to pass and interupt hundreds of years of tradition.
to avoid the same boos, we took a 5 mile detour when the sons were bored of standing in the (light) rain watching men with bells on their legs hitting each other with sticks to a squeeze box soundtrack.
played 'open season' with maximum on PS2 this afternoon.
he's just about getting the hang of a controller.
it's quite a fun, seemingly child friendly computer game: no killing.
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