As advertised on these very pages, Saturday saw several morris teams descending upon the unsuspecting fishing port of Looe to celebrate the Plymouth Morris Men's 40th birthday.
And most of them don't look a day over 80.
The Globe Inn at the foot of Shutta, but the Millbrooker Towers contingent missed that bit on account of enjoying an enormous cooked breakfast before setting off. We had a good excuse: Anal and Sandybum arrived at 0930 after motoring all the way from Westbury having clambered into their little toy car at stupid-o'clock-in-the-a.m.
The High Lord of Southwick was staying with us, too - so we made a merry throng as we joined up with the ladies and gentlemen of the morris. This is (L-R) The High Lord, Anal and me heading towards town; Sandybum was on camera duties and Mrs The Millbrooker was attempting the very difficult feat of finding somewhere to park in Looe on a sunny Saturday.
This dance is called Poppleton Stick, a jolly little number involving the usual mixture of skipping and stick related violence.
Thanks to the Anal for the video.
We moved on to the seafront, a great morris venue - good sized crowds and plenty of space.
My old friend and ex-boss Helen made the trip to meet up with us for the first time in a couple of years. She was staying in St Germans with a bunch of utter reprobates who laughingly refer to themselves as a "cricket team on tour" from their native Bristol. Helen is the only person under whom I've worked that I still speak to. Or, indeed, vice-versa (none of my other previous bosses want to speak to me any more than I want to speak to them) which in itself tells how admirably patient with my general overall bolshiness young Helen was. Helen's in centre shot next to Sandybum who is sporting some ultra-cool shades.
Newton Bushel team in action by the tourist information office.
Thank you to the Plymouth Morris Men for inviting us to join their party and thank you to the High Lord of Southwick, Anal and Sandybum for providing the photos.