Light relief from nursing A (she wouldn’t agree I’m nursing, but that’s shorthand for everything I wouldn’t normally do, and am now doing at high speed and with one arm strapped up and the other coming out in sympathy) five happy hours, round the corner at St Hilda’s church hall, learning new songs with Lester Simpson of Coope Boyes & Simpson. Quite a tonic.
I’m perched on the corner of the sick bed now, having played A my recordings, and promised to teach them to her while she womanfully pretended she wasn’t both disappointed and jealous. But disaster – the laptop then decided to corrupt the files, and I’ve lost half of it. I’m not coping with small reversals at the moment, and am in a raging fury now, and I’ve lost the recordings of the harmonies for Sweet Thames from Wednesday as well. I hate it when technology conspires.
Yesterday was a joyous afternoon with thirty others, sun pouring into the rather lovely hall (great acoustic for which – obviously – I take full credit, as I made the booking). Songs from Chaucer to Cherokee; songs that use the word for freedom in dozens languages; and magnificent harmonies: quite lovely … and I was so pleased with myself for asking Lester …
Those who know me well will be able to tell what kind of temper I am in currently, others can imagine thunderous brow and foul-mouthed spitting. I’ll get over it. I know in the great scheme of things it’s a minor irritant but camels and straws and all that. Hell, I can’t even be bothered to employ my cliché screen.
Anyway. Thank you Lester for a brilliant afternoon, in which I quite lost myself.
Lester is performing at Croydon Folk Club on Monday evening.
© Cherry Potts 2012