Friday 9th October 2020

Hello and good day to you all. Here is my version of the deeds of daring do from last night at the zoom folk night of Rhyl Folk Club.
We will start with the whimsy. Inspired by Lesley’s fine tutorial last week, I have called todays mini quiz- Usquebaugh. There are thirteen whisky-related words that have been inoculated into this report. They are hidden in plain sight, look for spelling “mistakes”, solecisms and tortured
grammar.
Answers next week.


Five past eight and Alun is behind schedule, already a baker’s dozen and that’s not including Sheila or Lesley. John off first, resplendent in purple shirt, with Santy Ano. You may guess that there are a hatful of different spellings of this one. A sheep farmer left with little choice but to commit arson was next. A bit like a harbour bonfire, but not quite. The red sky serving to scotch any rumour of accidental conflagration.

Stewart had Folsom Prison Blues meaning I Still Miss Someone. Dylan to finish, no drama, no crisis. All good stuff and a great start.

John Warburton’s self-penned appeal to Mr Politician to see the single vision of misery and poverty. John’s double was completed by the desire to be free, by the sound of the sea. Carol casts her weary eye over the perils of public transport. Bus Stop was an affectionate memory of pouring rain.


Ian Campbell was next, with a song he never introduced, but thanks to ARJ, who recognised a Roxette song. The next song was a gentle song about the subtle smell of herb lending aromas to an overnight camp.

Gaffer next with a sartorial tale of an Irishman who was never going to be a normal tailor.

Mike Hawkins next with Eric Bogle’s Now I’m Easy. The etymology of the word cockie is interesting and nothing to do with what you think. Courting is a pleasure next, always a favourite. Sheila Hawkins was a breath of fresh air with affectionate memories of playing out and Crackerjack. Written by David Wood about back in the day where a bar relied on beer and skittles.

Geoff Durno gave us a Spinners song about the Ffestiniog railway
and the power of gravity. Skin was next with a plea to take care of it.

Lisa and Steve next, who had sound issues last time. Hope attends their contribution this evening. Caledonia is a lovely song, a treat. Steve lead with lay my money down. Panic as keys rattle the cell door.


Jan Jenkins had a lovely poem by Jenny Joseph about John’s shirt. Chas had a Harding rendition of the little known adventures of Napoleon in the Northwest whilst sticking his hand up his vest.

Carl had the haunting and poetic tale of Cock Robin. The epitome of folk songs, death and destruction, deceit and duplicity.

T Gwyn had Cwyn y Gwynt, the complaining wind.

From near Hadrian’s Wall we had next, Phil Harley with a sad song about a honey gray mare. And another that I didn’t know, I’m sorry.

Dafydd was next with Gwyneth Lewis’s Half. Michael Morgan’s Disappearance of my me. Enigmatic stuff about self. Bee sang this week about coming home. Strong stuff, stirring stuff.

Alun brought the first half to a close. A good selection of all things folk from start to finish, well done everyone. The queen and the soldier preceded the
accordion. Jez Lowe’s Dandelion Clocks- always a favourite, both live and on cd.

This accursed Covid and lockdown privations has cost us the real pleasure of live performance. Thus the first half became whole, as one you may say.
Mr Bojangles next by RBC circa gk. Which is short for God Knows. Good night.

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