The red shoes

Today is Winchester's much-loved Mayfest, back after a short turmoil rest, and what a glorious day they've got for it. I went down town before it got too hot and afterwards met friends for lunch. We sat at a table on a bit of shady pavement and ate pasties (I never eat pasties except when I'm away, so I was obviously in holiday mood). There were at least 20 groups from all over, dancing different kinds of morris that, being no expert, I need to be told about in order to disentangle. However, I know some was North West Morris and one at least was with swords. There were also singing workshops and folk bands. All very jolly!

It's difficult, though, isn't it, not just getting blinded by colour - and coming home with nothing but images you'd see in the local paper. Hence the reason I picked these feet. I liked the rhythm and the fact that both the front 2 clogs were off the ground (just). However, at least one of the legs that should be there seems to be missing - erm...

I am both gobsmacked and rather embarrassed to see I've hit the spotlight 2 days in a row for the 2nd week in a row. You are all wonderfully kind, but I don't feel I deserve this. I can only say thank you so much - but, as it's not an Oscar acceptance speech, please could I be spared bursting into tears? If I promise not to do it again?