Being Friday the Fifteenth Day of April, 2016 ...

Now, who hasn't got the message about chairs and radiators?

Anybody know who this is?

I'm a social media outcast!

Georgie doesn't sing ...

Being Friday the Eighth day of April, 2015 ...

Goat-whacker was in the chair ...

The average age of club participants was dramatically reduced by the presence of some newcomers ...

Welcome, Gabrielle, Angeline, Hope and Patricia.

There were musical tributes to two nightingales ...

... as she sings in the valley below.

... and an account of hippo battles ...

Then it was farewell ...

... for the topsail it is hoisted ...

Regarding small change and train tickets ...

You can always tell when a certain individual has attended the City Folk Club.
There is one among us who considers it expedient to dispose of all his five-pence pieces in the contribution pot ...

Such currency is tedious to count.
These diminutive coins always occupy the most inaccessible corners of your pockets, and you need five pounds-worth to bag up and take to the bank.

Last week Dogsbody had a brilliant idea ...
"I know: next time I take the train to attend the folk club I will purchase my ticket from the machine using all these 5p-s."

The return fare is £2.25.
That's 45 five-pence coins. I have a sufficient quantity.

Here's the machine? It's on the westbound platform...

I choose my destination.
The machine takes a few seconds to recalculate the fare after I have told it about my Senior Railcard.
'PAY NOW USING CASH OR CARD,' commands the machine.
I insert one coin, then a second ... and a third.
The machine rejects the second and third.
Harrumph!
It transpires that there is a seven-second delay during which interval the machine weighs and registers that previous coin before you can insert any more.
I re-insert second coin and patiently wait until I hear 'tinkle-tinkle' indicating that the coin has dropped.
I proceed likewise with the remaining 43 coins, although I become a little anxious as I detect a significant queue of potential travellers waiting to purchase tickets.
(Why is there only one machine?)

Mathematicians among you will discern that this whole process occupies a minimum of 5 minutes and 15 seconds of my life which I will never get back.

The machine eventually disgorges my travel documents ...

Yes, I always buy a return.
It's only 10p more than a single.

Meanwhile the 18.26 to Chichester, (my train!) pulls away from the eastbound platform ...

Never mind.
I'll take the bus!

Being Friday the First day of April, 2016 ...

The City Folk Club seemed like a good place to acknowledge the festival of all fools, but where was Ken?

We endured a badly-behaved smoke alarm ...

It's playing B-flat!

We were fortunate to have John among the company; he supplied a new battery.

Musical offerings seemed to concentrate on dreaming and/or mindfulness ...

Conor sang something about an item of restraint ...

There was much collaboration ...

This is our piece de resistance ...

IMPORTANT NEW DIRECTIVE ...

Our host-venue adds this addendum, in bold red type, to the latest invoice:

PLEASE DO NOT LEAVE CHAIRS IN FRONT OF THE RADIATORS as they absorb the heat and scratch the paint on the radiators.

So, take heed now ...

BAD chairs.

Good chairs.

Being Friday the 25th of March, 2016 ...

Being, indeed, Good Friday.

Berry, in charge, waxed lyrical about his excellent state of health.

Angela and Paul claimed to have been illuminated ...

Glory, Hallelujah!

Paul then demonstrated that his whistling ability has been recently enhanced by a new tooth.
Tony joined in the competition, although Paul declined to pass on details of his dentist.

Debbie brought a friend to celebrate a birthday ...

Look how she's grown!

Mike commemorated an outbreak of agrarian socialism ...

We departed to dream of someone named Irene ...