We normally keep our distance from the Morris dancers at the National Folk Festival.
This year we are taking that to a whole new level. We’re not even going to be able to see them from a distance.
For some years my wife and I have been regulars at the folkie in Canberra on Good Friday amid crowds of thousands of people who come to enjoy the vast array of song and dance. Since social gatherings of more than two people are forbidden here, the festival is one of the many, many casualties.
I did toy with the idea of going anyway. I learned at school many years ago how to play the Good Old Duke of York on the recorder, and Katherine could sit alone in the auditorium and applaud wildly.
But I doubt the EPIC gates will be open anyway.
Besides, it’s a very rainy day here in Canberra. So it’s probably a silver lining being confined to home.
I feel most sorry for the Morris dancers.
I would hazard a guess there are not many days you can dress up with bells on your shins and fake flowers in your hat without people thinking you are seriously weird.
But waving handkerchiefs at each other during dances would probably get them arrested at the moment.