On a rather musical note....

I am rather fond of folk music - yes I can hear some of you out there sniggering or sighing at this unfortunate infliction, but yes, I am rather fond of the Irish lament or the traditional sawing away at the fiddle that gets your feet tapping and your heart singing (well for some of us that is!)

A while ago we used to regularly go to the Dent Folk Festival and see some amazing acts out on a field surrounded by hills and sheep. However latterly we have not been able to go.

With this in mind, last week at work when I was beside myself with the pressure of staff shortages and double shifts, I felt the need for some sort of music therapy so started searching for any bands or festivals. It was a fairly fruitless search to start with, as it is a bit too early for the festival season and bands were either too far away, too expensive, fully booked or not on a day we could go.

Then............ I found something that made me rather excited.

A local folk group were getting together this Friday - yes THIS Friday in a neighbouring town at a pub we used to use in our misspent youth - as ha! Problem solved - or so I thought....... erhum.

I text Himself who seemed fine about it, rang the pub to check that kids could come and through a rather muffled line I could hear an harassed staff member saying that yes kids could come but they would have to keep muffle muffle away from the bar (which is normal) and sit in the muffle waffle room with the waffle muffle band and that muffle muffle 8.30pm - he was obviously busy and I heard just enough of the conversation to confirm that this was what we would be doing this Friday evening. Yay!

To cut a long story short (most of my stories are fairly long and meandering) we arrived at the pub about 15 minutes after starting time - the 8.30pm that was mentioned. The car park was full so we hurried in....to an empty pub.....? We, with our drinks, sat in the lounge part and looked at each other... something wasn't quite right. I was about to open my mouth to speak when right above us, through the ceiling boards came such a stomping and a fiddle sawing we knew that we were in the right place, just on the wrong floor - a quick check with the young barman confirmed that yes indeed we should be upstairs.

We set off and I could see the legs and a guitar case of a folkie disappearing up above us, so followed keenly.

There was a lot of folk upstairs, chatting and clapping and we could hear the sounds of cheering. Aha, a good crowd I thought, however, we had to wait until the folkies at the door moved before we could go in and grab a seat - hopefully we would not be too near the back with being late. I needn't have worried....... oh no..... not at all.

We were ushered in by a cheery bearded chap as he told us to grab a chair and come through.

The room was small. Very~small.

There were chairs all around the outside.

Each with a seated folkie and their respective instruments.

We were put

in

the

middle

surrounded by about 30 people

 we~did~not~know~where~to~look.

I nearly died. The boys shrunk to a quarter of their normal size and stared into their juices. Himself and I, glazed looks on our eyes smiled tightly and we whispered rather too shrilly - ooh this is nice? Isnt it boys, very nice, oh nice, nice oh.

Then the music started.

Each folkie sang, played, fiddled, harped, strummed, piped and drummed around us, one by one we were serenaded with Irish laments, Simon and Garfunkel, jigs and reels, covers and originals as...

we

sat

in

the 

middle

with

about

30 pairs of musical eyes on us....

Nervous grins all round.

After several individual performances the lead folkie sort of made an introduction (for our benefit) who they were and what they did and then.... asked us if we sang.
Err No
Played any musical instruments (a hopeful note in voice)
Umm - not us but the boys play piano and keyboard 
Did we know any folk songs? (desperate note)
Umm - none worth getting excited about and only enough to hum to.

The room went rather silent. Then Eldest dropped his juice onto the floor. gah..... could it get any more embarrassing.

I lept up and ushered Eldest out and nipped downstairs to the bar to beg a cloth to mop the carpet. On returning we were met by one of the women who had been playing the fiddle most beautifully. She chatted about how she'd started and asked about our interest and mentioned that usually it is just them and it was a rarity to have an 'audience' and yes new comers were always put in the middle. She asked about the boys and without the pressure of being scrutinised by all the folkies it was easier to chat to her.  We then went in. Mopped the floor and relaxed a little.

We began to enjoy the music when the lead folkie noticed that Youngest was really enjoying himself by now and got him involved, got him singing and shaking an egg shaped rattly thing. Eldest remained steadfastly hidden behind his fringe.

Himself (after a pint or two) began to sing - he has a beautiful voice but only sings for us and only if pressed. It was, after a rather terrifyingly embarrassing start, a rather good evening and by the time we were able to leave, it was after closing time. We left after many hand shakes and 'lovely to meet yous and come agains' and decided that we had, eventually, have a brilliant evening.

PS - no teenagers were emotionally scared or harmed by embarrassing parents or younger brothers. He was, to our surprise, the first to ask if we could go back - but I think Himself and I need to recover first.


Are we going again? Probably, but will definitely get there much earlier and grab a wall seat!!!