Festival-style sing-a-long

Carson Robison

At the start of the session Maggie wasn't very happy, having sat down on a wet seat (I assume). She had to swap for a dry one, and in the process found a cigarette that someone had dropped on the floor, presumably while picking up their darts from beneath the dart board. Maggie wasn't bold enough to smoke it but, after some examination to check the brand and to eliminate the possibility of obvious "doctoring", Colin smoked it at the interval with no obvious ill effects.

Mike kicked off the session with The hunting priest [Doctor Mack or Tally Ho! the hounds, Sir] (Roud 1861), but he started with the second verse of his version and while he could remember the third was at a total loss for the the first and gave up, restarting with Haul on the bowline (Roud 652).

Is this the folk club?

Cyril Poacher

Talk at the beginning of the evening included a number of subjects. Maggie had received a letter from BUST thanking her for the club's recent donation, the raffle money from her birthday party. The donation was of £35.00 which seems worthwhile and will go a small way to the charity's "shopping list".

In another topic we made it absolutely clear that non-performers as well as performers are welcome to the club's sessions. The atmosphere at the club can be quite jokey, and everyone needs a fairly thick skin but no one should feel unwelcome, even if they are on the receiving end of some mild digs. Don't worry, newbies, we are usually very gentle with newcomers.

Finally, there was mention of Richard and Lesley's recent trip to Paris. Apparently it was very enjoyable, and it prompted some of the songs sung during the evening.

Benjamin Britten's gardener

Bob Hart

It looked as though we were going to be particularly thin on the ground this week, causing Mike to joke that it may "come round" once or even twice... every ten minutes. His scepticism was however put to bed when three further people came though the door - not a huge crowd but certainly enough to make a good do of it.

The three welcome latecomers were Carl, now almost a regular, who brought his brother-in-law, Derek (we'll call him Derek 2 to differentiate from our regular traditional singer of Suffolk origin with the same name), and Alison, whose arrival was somewhat sudden and startling but whose presence and singing were definitely more soothing.

Mike started us off with a newly "discovered" Bristol version of Outward bound a sea song, which he had explained on a previous occasion is not a shanty because shanties are either outward or homeward bounders, whereas this song mentioned both directions.

Wherefore art thou Maggie?

With Maggie and Mike watching Shakespeare instead of taking charge at The Bridge, Richard took Mike's place for the evening, helped by Lesley on raffle tickets.

Simon arrived at the same time as Colin, and any impression that he may have tried to run him over was definitely unintentional (and didn't really happen at all). An apparently friendly chap standing at the door of the pub suggested that Colin had been less than willing to exchange pleasantries; maybe it was his recent brush with death?

Under fire in the trenches

Thanks to Derek for his report on the first half of this week's session. I (your usual blog report writer) arrived a little after half-time. Here therefore I hand over to Derek...

The title refers less to the content of the week's songs, than to the persistent noise and disruption aimed at us by a group of young yobs who continually 'accidentally' opened the door whilst people were singing, and rattled and banged on the 'stable' doors. Even the saintly and forgiving Gary failed to sing the His Worship and The Pig song (Rough justice) advocating giving them a place in the sun.