Friday, May 29, 2015

Being Friday the 22nd of May, 2015 ...

Berry was electric with this very neat device ...

Berry can always be forgiven for introducing new dimensions
to the notion of traditional music.

We witnessed the mortification of anisoptera ...

... inside a jar.

Phil sang a song with a chorus in French ...

"Na-na-na-nah," it goes.
What has somebody done to this man's brain?

Interestingly, on the previous week, Mike H. had performed a totally different, self-penned song with exactly that same chorus.

We were delighted to welcome our occasional visitors, Derek and Roberta, from Worcestershire.
Derek's music was truly resonating ...

Now, about a song ...
Paul correctly identified the so-called 'Singing Postman' as Allan Smethurst ...

About another song ...
Waltzing Matilda, lyrics by Banjo Paterson in 1895, is reputedly, (reliably?) set to a pre-existing Scottish melody, Bonny Wood of Craigielea, composed by James Barr, published in 1836, for lyrics written by Robert Tannahill, who had died prior to publication ...

Search for almost any traditional song on YouTube and  you will
find that this guy has covered it.
Raymond is a veritable mine of information.

Then we heard a charming instrumental about an extraordinarily large sea-bird ...

Hello, my name is Diomedeida.
You can call me Dom.

Dire consequences will befall anyone who shoots an arrow at me.
Apologies to STC of The Ancient Mariner!

Then we went quietly home with joyful hearts, hopeful souls, intact of limb and sound of mind.

The only fictional death was that poor dragonfly.
I think the albatross survived!


London Apprentice and Special Bitter said...

There is a need to remind members that there is a creeping electrification taking over at the club. The candles are now electric; the lights are electric; the kettle is electric; and Mike would do well to hang on to his "entry level" electric guitar, because of late some of the guitars have been electric.

Be advised that although recent indisposition has mitigated against my attendance recently, I will be there, if only to listen, this coming Friday 19th June.

Please therefore turn out in your droves to entertain me and my dear little wife who has also promised to come along. Whether to play a concerto or to sit demurely is not yet known. I will try to persuade her against eating crisps during the performances.

If a collection of eggs can be called a clutch, and starlings gathering is a murmuration, what is the correct term for a group of idiots? Answers on the night please!

Colin said...

Come on now, Berry. You know the history, don't you?
You must be aware that Mave must never, ever again, be allowed near any living flame.
(No, for 'living flame' I don't mean Ken!)
We have tried Camping-Gaz for lighting, but the canister ran out.
For boiling the kettle ... I recently sold on Ebay a Trangia back-packing stove, powered by methylated spirits. The water for Angela's herbal tea might possibly have acquired some luke-warmth just before we went home.
The Guide Hall central-heating is operated by fossil-fuel. The only electricity involved is the programming thingy that we are forbidden to touch.
Oh, Berry, I try so hard to preserve the rustic ambiance of our gathering.
Now, (oh now!) we are being invaded by those electronic devices: mobile phones, i-pads, non-medicinal tablets!
Such items are anathema to me.
If you must bring your words/scores along, kindly engage failing memory or revert to the ancient traditions of papyrus and quill ... or clay tablet and stylus!