Still singing

Many a month has passed since last I mentioned ukuleles. Has Angie exchanged her uke for knitting needles or a paint pallet? Perish the thought!  The 'problem' is simply that the couple with the fine camera have moved on to pastures new, so there haven't been any photos of little me worth publishing. Also, Janice hasn't organised any Open Mic events recently, so a grateful world has been spared my solo performances.

All that changed last Sunday afternoon with an Open Mic & Mass Jam at the Riverside Hotel in Monmouth... and oh what fun we had! And there sat Alastair and Janice with their camera.

I'm getting a reputation for singing songs that are not entirely serious. This time I chose I am my own grandma – my adaptation of a song about a family with a crazy mixed-up genealogy.

Many, many years ago when I was twenty three

I was married to a widower who was handsome as could be.

This widower had a grown-up daughter who had hair of red;

my father fell in love with her and soon they too were wed.

This made my dad my son-in-law and changed my very life;

my daughter was my mother, for she was my father's wife.... 

and from there the chaos developed.

A big 'thank you' to Alan snr and Alan jnr for organising and leading a wonderful event — their first (I think) but hopefully not their last.