Well, the merry merry month of May has arrived, NOTWITHSTANDING the hail, sleet, snow, etc that manages to continue. On May Day morning, tradition dictates that young maidens such as I go out at dawn and wash our faces in the fresh dew, to ensure beautiful visages in the coming year. Since the "dew" was actually "frost" I let the opportunity pass, and I'll have to settle for whatever beauty I may get naturally and without superstition.
Tradition also dictates that morris dancers (such as I) ought to be up and be-belled before dawn, dancing around a flowered maypole in a public park whilst bewildered onlookers jog by as if in a dream...
UNFORTUNATELY there are not quite enough morris dancers around here to have such activities. I will settle for an afternoon "May Day" event on the 9th, which looks like lots of fun even though it'll be eight days and ten hours past the properly appointed time for such festivities.
What I DID do on May Day was to attend a Patriot's Ball. It was at a local school and I was invited to call some square dances, play bass, dance, have fun. Let me just say, though, that I was a little culturally curious about it and felt like a little bit of an undercover observer. You see, due to my political alignment I have never before (to my knowledge) been invited to anything called a "Patriots" anything, unless it was a "peace is patriotic" themed something or other. But there wasn't much to observe: once you got past the sign declaring the identity of the dance, it actually took a form that would be quite familiar to a hippie by its similarity to, say, a peace-love-and-flowers-ball. There were more ties worn than tie-dye garments, and I didn't know people would be in bona fide BALL gowns, but the format of the evening was quite recognizeable: we danced, and danced, and danced some more!