I’ve been so slack with the blog recently, but I’ve been so busy with the Melbourne Fringe show, and of course, its taking quite a bit of adjusting at the new house, so I’m only just working out a schedule for myself. I’ve got to stop jumping on the computer and losing myself in the never-ending links that come up on to Facebook or Twitter, when there are actually things I want to do.
Music has suddenly become a huge part of my life since moving to Kinsale. I’m not complaining, I adore it, but its so strange that its happened so suddenly.
There’s a bar here, ‘The Spainard’, which is a 20 minute walk down the road from my house, and they have music most nights. I think I may have mentioned it already. The last two Sundays I’ve gone to ‘The Spainard’ to hear these two blokes play. They’re very friendly, and were teasing me because I brought my notebook into the bar and was writing out notes to myself. Actually, all the blokes in the bar have been doing that. Actually, most of the people I’ve met in the bar have been blokes. How strange, I didn’t even notice, when I’ve been complaining and complaining that I’m only meeting women in Ireland. To be fair, all the men in the bar are 40 or 50 and over, so its not like I feel like I’m ‘meeting’ men in the way that people mean ‘have you met anyone’? (this question is coming up more and more often – is it me? Do I look old? Desperate? Or am I just so painfully aware of the question because I haven’t ‘met’ anyone?)
Anyway. Last Sunday, the two musicians invited me to come and sit with them as they were playing. Then they asked for a song. Ah, my favourite request. Sing us a song! Who me? *Blushing* Oh, well, if you insist…
So, I dragged out ‘The Band Plays…’ AGAIN. Everyone loved it, and the old man at the bar told me I had a ‘mighty’ voice. Someone else told me it was ‘deadly’ (which is Irish slang and it means its a good thing). They all wanted to know if I was in a band. I was asked for another. So, I brought out ‘Tippin’ it Up To Nancy’… AGAIN. They loved it as well, and the musicians have told me that any song I want to sing from now until Christmas, I should come down to the pub with them and sing it on a Sunday. Which is so cool. This is the closest I have ever gotten to being in a band. Which is a huge, secret fantasy of mine. And, when I say, ‘band’, I mean, ‘folk band’ complete with swishy skirts, akubra hats, fiddles, banjos and mandolins. My dream stage would be the National Folk Festival in Canberra. True Story. I’m such a loser.
Anyway, the point is, I’m now casting around for new songs to learn before next Sunday. Yesterday morning, after Little Brother woke up from his morning nap, I started practicing ‘Long Hot Summer Days’, which is a brilliant song, and here is my favourite version:
I got totally inspired and got my fiddle out to see if I could figure out what she was playing (I can’t really. Only bits). There had been two Kiwis at the pub on Sunday, and one of them had her fiddle, whipped it out and started playing with the other musicians, which was do fantastic, and I was reminded again that I really need to get out the violin and practice it more often so I can do the same sort of thing when I feel like it.
Anyway, Baby Brother adored the fiddle and the singing. He was twisting around to watch me play, and by the end of it, he was giggling and squealing along with me. Seriously, he is the coolest baby. Imagine liking old timey bluesgrass at 7 months. I hope that I, in some small part, end up influencing his musical taste, and that when he’s 17 he still has a strange fondness for banjos and fiddles and songs about long hot summer days that he can’t quite place.
Meanwhile, Little Man showed me another song yesterday on You Tube, which is hysterical. Its an Irish song about farming and the words are so appropriate to Little Man, who is obsessed with farming and tractors.
You really need to listen to it. Really.