Being Friday the 28th of December, 2012 ...

So, here we are at the end of another year.

When I was sixty-something, it was a very good year …our average weekly attendance has been 18.24 near-human bodies, plus an occasional penguin ...

No takers here then!

What is most encouraging is that people keep coming back, so I guess that we’re getting something right.

We welcomed three visitors from afar-off to the West.
Dusty and her friends, following a celestial apparition, guided by sat-camel, came all the way from Fareham.

Only one pictorial clue this week ...




"I just need to breathe," says Lynda.

Meanwhile ...

Enjoy your happy inter-festive interlude!

 

Being Friday the 21st of December, 2012 ...



Undeterred by the imminent end of the world, as predicted by pre-Columbian  mystics, The City Folk Club’s seasonal party attracted 32 enthusiastic bodies, most of whom brought wholesome food to share.

Predictably for the season, there was a significant flavour of holiness to some of the music and songs.

There was a smattering of benign cynicism from the 'humbug' lobby, but lots of merriment.

A couple of younger participants, for incomprehensible reasons, appeared to be preoccupied with conflagration. (Is this really the end of the world?)

 

 

 

Other pictorial clues for this week’s performances seem superfluous, however …

 

... and the meadows their beauty have lost.

 

Look what Mary got for Christmas.

 

 Appetites were satiated during the interval, with many people going back to the buffet tables for second helpings.

 



Please, Sir, I want some more ...

 

Dogsbody had some difficulty in enticing people back into the real business of musical performance, partly because Jane still had food stuck between her teeth.

 

Mighty dread on Ilkley Moor.
"Don't make eye-contact," said Joachim.

 We were clearing up the hall well before the witching hour when somebody realised that it would be Angela’s birthday the following day. The strains of an enthusiastic ‘Happy Birthday to You’ were clearly audible from the loo, and probably by neighbours across the road.

Anyway: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ANGELA.

THANK YOU to everyone who attended, brought their music, shared their food and, importantly, warm friendship and good will.
 

… and, you may have noticed
… the world is still here!

(Isn’t it?)

If we are spared another week, the club will meet as usual on Friday, 28th December.

 

 

 



Being Friday the 14th of December, 2012 ...

We welcomed 20 stalwart souls who wandered in from the chilly and moist outdoors.

All were enthusiastic to perform.

… but who is MC?

“Oh, it should be Mike,” said Lynda after consulting her extensive database.

Mike arrived in good time and we had sufficient bodies to pay the rent.

A prompt start was only slightly delayed as the Whyke Lane Woodwind Ensemble retreated to that little room to rehearse something they’d never done together before.

(Don’t worry, it wasn’t apparent in performance!)

 

With just one week to go before our special Christmas celebration, many offerings had a seasonal flavour. There was a smattering of holiness, considerable frivolity and good cheer, rustic metaphor, a song about parental disapproval and one mention of a train.

 

One woodwind player demonstrated the impossibility of playing the recorder with gloved hands.

 

Tony acquired the description of being an isomorph, whatever that may mean.
 

Is there a God above?

 

Look what we've just seen!

 

 

 

 

 

I hung at Tyburn ...

 

 

 

A thoroughbred racing donkey.

I'm only doing zeds!

Be assured ...

• All amorous encounters were pure fantasy, as was any aerial activity in the company of Father Christmas.
• All mutilations and deaths were entirely fictional, or matters of historical reportage.
• No donkeys or penguins were harmed in this production.

A Party Reminder ...

The club will be holding a seasonal party at the Guide Hall on Friday, 21^st December, commencing promptly at 8.00pm, (doors open from 7.30pm.)

 

We have negotiated an extension until midnight. Music will cease at 11.30, leaving us half-an-hour to clear up before departing in absolute silence.

 

So, revisit your festive musical offerings, and please bring along a plate of food to share.

 

Somebody asked about dress-code.

One suggestion is ‘dress in your fineries’!
Like this? ...

 

 

 

 

 

There ... hasn't that put you all in festive mood?

It's in the key of G.
Roger gets the solo guitar part.
Dancing is optional.

In Memoriam ...

Sir Patrick is no more.
As well as being an eccentric astronomer who lived in Selsey, he was a keen musician.
Moseley chose this clip in memory ...

 

 

 



Being Friday the 7th of December, 2012 ...

“Is that seismic noise coming from the boiler?“ asks Angela in some anxiety.
Dogsbody summons up all his courage to investigate.
The central heating is operating satisfactorily.
From philosiphers' balcony he observes pyrotechnic activity in the sky over a stately home somewhere to the North.


We will be complaining to the Earl of March.


In spite of such inconsiderate disturbance, we enjoy another evening of smashing music in extraordinarily good company.

Angela presents Pam with a large rain-making device.



No, Pam ... not now!

Musical offerings include the usual bits of love, (requited or otherwise,) a couple of trains, a bloody massacre with an indeterminate death-count, ships and fishing, a two-timing prostitute, pollination and a closing toast.





Where the Sun never shines ...

 

  



Silver darlings



 

"Now, God be praised: I die contented."



Bzzzz ... and I hope you like me, too.

  

 



A BR Standard class 4, 4-6-0 getting up steam.

 



 

 



Here's your toast ...
Now clear up and go home!

The bad dream of Little Musgrave ...

I awoke in a sweat this morning.
At least, I hope I awoke.

I had experienced one of those rare dreams that you remember clearly, wondering if it really happened.
You know: those ones in Technicolor where all your teeth fall out, and you seem to be in a state of embarrassing undress.
(Oh, don’t you have those?)

I had set up the Guide Hall, as usual, for our Friday gathering.
The tables were dressed, the toilet signs had been blue-tacked and festive lights correctly suspended.
All was well, except …
                               nobody else had arrived.

“They all know we begin at 8.00pm!” I am thinking.
I tune my guitar.
8.10pm: still nobody, so I play a scale on the concertina.
“Who’s MC, anyway?”
I sing a few strains of a song that I am trying to recall.

Then, OMG ...
People arrive.
I recognise no one.
They are all dressed in theatrical costume.
In a welcoming manner I approach one who appears like Lady Macbeth.








She's quite pretty.

“Out, damned spot!” she cries at me.
I retreat in embarrassment to look in the mirror.
Oh, she's noticed I've got a cold-sore!
Well, I suppose that we have now been introduced.

At 8.30pm I decide I'd better MC.
I adopt an assertive posture and begin: “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen …”

This is rudely interrupted by a man wearing a wooly hat and bearing a human skull in his hand.
He soliloquises at length ... 

Alas, poor Yorick ...

I adopt an upright posture again to emphasise authority.
I interrupt indignantly: “Don’t you know that this is a folk music club?”
“We’ve tolerated poetry, but am-dram has to be way beyond our remit!”

A Scottish nobleman approaches.
He contrives a malevolent countenance as he threateningly snatches up the bell tree.




“Is this a dagger which I see before me?” quoth he.

errr. no, but ...

This could do significant damage.
It seems inadvisable to contradict him.
In considerable fear, I hastily withdraw.


A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!

… in [my] hurry to carry the news [I] bared [my] breast and ran,
… and when [I] came to the broad mill stream, [I] took off [my] shoes and [I] swam.

Then little Musgrave awakes to discover that it’s only Monday morning after all!

Being Friday the 30th of November, 2012 ...

Apologies to those who wondered if they’d entered the land of Lilliput because the tables seemed smaller than usual.

 

 

More than one participant wondered if they were suffering from vertigo.
Has my stature miraculously increased by several inches?
Had Dogsbody taken too much psychotropic medication?
One pill makes you larger ...

In spite of a shared sense of over-exposure, Paul led us in an evening of brilliant music.

A veritable multitude of requests were fulfilled with astounding quality.

We had the customary references to love, a bit of weather, sorcery, one murder, some inebriation, a horse auction, a song with no teeth, a prison, a dungeon, sedentary Cossack dancing, and at least one reference to a train.

Obscure pictorial clues follow …

Come along, Michael ...
it's time for your medication.

 

Come to bed now, dear.
... but I've not finished!

 

 

Captain Logan had us mangled.

 

 

... his wild harp slung behind him.



A celebrated US penitentiary




Has anyone seen my crumpet?



A Russian lady with a BIG chest!




With a screaching of brakes ...

 

This just gets more and more exciting every week.

So, what are we doing for Christmas?

Only a few weeks away we will have that festive season of over-indulgence, known by some as Yuletide, so here’s a date for your diary …
 

On Friday the 21^st of December the club will meet to celebrate the winter solstice and the imminent anniversary of an historic birth in strange circumstances.

 

Entry will be FREE!
(You need not bring gold nor aromatic unguents. Sheep will be unwelcome.)

Doors open at 7.30pm, anticipating a prompt start at 8.00pm.

Please bring along a plate of food to share and your own beverages, as well as your seasonal songs/tunes. 

Kindly avoid balloons and anything else that might go BANG!


 

Friday 23rd Nov 2012

Good morn .... afternoon Blogmaster & all secret people.

 

I wondered if you could pass on my thanks to all those that attended the club last night and helped to make it an evening for the MC to enjoy. Wasn't it a relief to see PD performing and seemingly none the worse for his "turn of events?" I have told him not to repeat the nature of things again as it just isn't nice to frighten all the horses in this way! Hail to those who were able to react so well and save him.

 

Regards & L2J (To whom we owe money!) You must tell me how much as I never carry cash myself and if my aides aren't present....... well ..... I cannot pay up.

 

I remain as before several people variously Special Bitter / London Apprentice / Musically Bent. 

 

P.S. You will see that I have sent in a comment about the guides function. 

P.P.S. Be alerted to the imminent return of Parkingspaceman and take cover.

Being Friday the 23rd of November, 2012 ...

Now we have festive decorations at the guide hall
                                                                ... including glitter-balls!



Moseley was always nervous about those balloons.

 



Thirteen people turned up.

Cleverly facilitated by Berry, we shared and heard some truly remarkable music.

 

We were delighted to have Paul in our company, now restored to a semblance of health. Paul introduced us to this new verb ...

to rumbust.

 

At least 14 CiN requests were fulfilled, although Berry's request for "A 1950's show-song" had one performer in a temporary quandary.

Elayne couldn't say, "No!"

 

Now, what other clues can I divulge?

Here's one as a starter ... 

 

 

I fail to see the relevance.

 

I hope that what follows will be more obvious ...  

 





One of two Romany females.

 

 

Mythical beasts.

A Shakesepearean story of passion.

 

 

 

"Anyone for fruits de mer?"

 

 

 

This custom of handkerchief waving
must be banned on the grounds of
health and safety.

We have an invitation ...

There are plans afoot to extend the Guide Hall and improve the lavatorial facilities.

We are all invited to a Christmas Fair ...

 

 

For those who want to take advantage of the free tea or coffee, I will bring 'hard copy' of the voucher along on Friday.

Let's support this.

We need the Guide Hall.

The Guides need us!

Get Well Soon, Paul ...

Many of you have already heard that Paul was suddenly taken ill last Saturday evening while in the company of three lovely ladies.
(That's the way to do it, Paul!)

... 999.
... Ambulance.
... A&E.
... Hospital admission.
... Home by Monday, awaiting out-patient investigations.

I have no doubt that you will join me in wishing Paul well for a rapid and full recovery, because we love him so very much.


Look carefully.
Just like Paul's guitar ... those eyes follow you around the room!

Being Friday the 16th of November, 2012 ...

Well, there we were for our annual effort in aid of Children in Need.

A Scottish leprechaun turned up.
She had the magical ability of subliminally extracting money from any unsuspecting individual who dared speak to her ...



It's all for charity ...

Requests always bring out the very best in our participants and we heard some wonderful music.
Listen to this self-penned piece from Mike ...

And Roger sang this ...

Thank you to everyone who donated raffle prizes, and bought tickets.
The raffle generated £48.00, and Pam, in her absence, won two prizes.
There was £80.90 in the collection pot.
Add to that £115.00 already donated for the sponsored requests ... that means that we can donate a magnificent total of £243.90 to help disadvantaged children in UK.

Thank you to all our generous friends who helped to make this such an enjoyable and successful evening.



This young labourer had such an handsome face ...

"Are you sure about that key?" asks Andy.

Paul's guitar has eyes that
follow you around the room.
That's really spooky!

Here we are again at that London asylum.

Max and Sylvia finished off by singing, "Thank you," on behalf of us all ...