Here's a list of the rest of us - full length descriptions still to be done... Send me some info on the contact form if you wish to maintain your anonymity! 

Peter Mayne:  Squire... notable for inability to dance... at all... probably the only non-dancing Squire in Morris... plays a mean squeezbox... has been accused of poaching and been known to ruffle a few feathers.

Tim Huggins:  True Morris tart being Squire of some other outfit in Suffolk...  like Ford Prefect, always knows where his towel is... can be grumpy... self-proclaimed beer expert and member of CAMRA... nut addict.

John Holt:  apologist for Woodside Morris Men and dancer of the Nutting Girl at any and every opportunity... organiser of Sunday lunches.

Mike Jones: keeps us on the straight and narrow, solvent and in possession of public liability insurance... Morris tart but let off as he dances with a "proper" Cotswold side... can be persuaded to play concertina on occasion...  able to demonstrate that, given sufficient beer, mass is no impediment to height achieved in the leaping.

Bugs Johns: new boy with a fancy mandolin... notable for it being in tune. Labours under the dancing tuition of several experienced bods all telling him something different... will have a go at pretty much any dance... makes whistles out of plastic plumbing pipe.

Will: a Morris minor... son of Bert but quieter. Youngest member of the dancing side... future Squire no doubt (he can have the Bagman's job tomorrow if he wants it)... 

Bert Bremner: loud... citizen, comrade and local servant of the masses... a sensitive soul who also has the very handy capacity to laugh at himself... as well as others... has been known to take umbrage... Whiffler.

Gary Creissen: understands the meaning of life and does things with plants... will argue that black is white after a few... box player and owner of a serious Landy... beer expert...  a good day is when he replaces his volume of blood with beer... twice… Resident pedant… a bit rich coming from a Guardian reader.

Paul Taverner: box player of sorts and apprentice beer expert under the tutelage of Gary above... wife used to say he looked stupid in his sun glasses - since taking up the Morris she now says he just looks stupid... Bagman.

Richard Woodham:  Reverend keeper of our souls... ex Bagman who prays unceasingly for the current one, Paul above.. Treats us all as lost sheep... blames his cardiologist for most things... wears a look of benign frustration and acute anxiety most of the time.

Dave Steward: big in sewerage and has vast repertoire of dodgy songs... likes hot tea... box player and serious beer expert... morris tart... into cross-dressing and also dances with Norwich Kitwitches... makes chilli vodka... no known antedote... you have been warned.

Luke Withy:  part-timer away for much of the time... claims to be studying but nobody believes him... possibly the scruffiest Morris bod you'll ever see... wearer of the lowest slung breeches until the arrival of Adam - see below...  can sometimes remember some steps in some dances... but not very often.

Nigel Wimhurst:  multi-instrumentalist and dancer... carries much of life in an old wooden vegetable box strapped to his bike... wears a trademark ill-fitting cardigan in a shade of pale orange that defies description... knows lots of dances.

Karl Phillips: clever clogs from the University of East Anglia who blags trips to exotic places in the name of science... learns his Morris mostly from YouTube... can read music.

Adam: still a minor but has grown a lot... undisputed champion low-slung breeches wearer... needs a hair cut... had his eyes opened on the last trip to Winningen... can leap almost as high as Steve.

Steve Conneely: probably the highest jumping morris dancer in the country... plays with trains on bits of track overlooked by Dr Beeching... often misunderstood... punch-lines seldom match the jokes.

Greg Snell: cat gut scraper... possibly the fittest in the side... rides ridiculous distances on his bike but, unlike Gary, tends not to have drunken encounters with roundabouts and cars... organiser of the 2010 Whit Tour and cause of some uncharitable remarks from the Reverend Woodham re his navigational prowess.

Pat Maidment: postman... probably has a cat called Jess... dances a lot and blows things that play a tune... sometimes the same as what the rest of us are playing.

Martin Hicks: intergalactic traveller - our very own Time Lord... always seems to be in two countries at once and has a Dr Who scarf and jumper...  plays mandolin - usually with a string missing... beer expert.

Mark Cook:  shy and elusive member with very good range of songs... sings Little White Bull like you've never heard it before but needs much beer to sing... vinyl junkie... beer expert.

Jill Bennett: known to many as the "late Jill"... not late as in dead you understand, just late as in inability to arrive on time... has been known to turn up just as everyone else is packing up... knows lots of tunes and plays them beautifully on exquisite fiddle... on loan to King's Morris for most of the time.

Janet Anderson: fiddle player and long-suffering wardrobe mistress - sews 'til her fingers bleed... usually goes somewhere hot at every opportunity... likes sports cars and fast motorbikes... probably a closet Hell's Angel... has cat with suicidal tendences... has the builders in - frequently.

Phillip McFadyen: the "loose canon" and very reverend... lives in posh house and has posh garden parties with posh neighbours... finds more than three-line emails to contain too much information... artist and traveller.

Pip Conrad: perfectionist... so a rarity in a Morris side... knows lots of dances and can teach them to others... purveyor of embrocation, surgical trusses and knee supports... a certified truss fitter and a big hit with village ladies of a certain age... such a nice boy.

Peter Salt: paid up member of the "Zipper Club"... knows lots of history and thinks everybody else should too... loves shopping in Jarrold's... dracophile and creator of Snap... can be argumentative... makes fairly disgusting alcoholic pick-me-ups disguised in child's plastic drinking bottle… Foreman… nuts.