I was a bit heavy headed this morning as last night we had to scare the evil spirits away from the orchard and drink a fair amount of cider in the process.
It was a bit of a random night, we went to the Flease Inn in Bretforton (the next village over from ours to join in on the Wassail. When we first got there I could see that my friend Terry was unconvinced as there were Morris dancers everywhere and "black" woman (faces painted, dressed as witches) all dancing and singing in the courtyard of this national trust Inn. We battled our way to the bar, got some "proper" cider (flat and rough - just how I like it) and after the first pint we were loving it. Toast was dipped in cider and hung from the branches and cider poured at its roots, then more singing and dancing.
I think at these sorts of events you have to just jump right in and get involved, we were all enjoying the dancing and the folk singing by the end of the night.
We met three lads who had just the right attitude, (randomly they were from Shrewsbury, where Terry used to live and they knew him) every month they pick one random event somewhere and just go along and get involved. Last year the one chap broke his leg cheese rolling and next month they're off to run with the bulls in Spain. What really struck me was how even though they'd never been to this pub before they were the first to get up and dance and get the locals up and involved, I thought that was great and I think I need to take a leaf out of their book and not stand at the side so much.
Really great night, I'm smiling just thinking about it.