Yeavering. Not a verb, but a noun. (Photo by Andrew Curtis.)
Yeavering. A noun, not a verb. (Photo by Andrew Curtis.)

Dear Diary,

The last blog was a rant.  A looooooong rant.  I started to think of it as the Blogpost That Would Not Die.  Every time someone would comment or repost I would feel the urge to add another 2,000 words to it. 

So, a change of pace.  The tune of the moment, dear Diary, is ‘Yeavering’ by Kathryn Tickell. 

View ‘Yeavering’ in iTunes 

(I was sort of hoping to embed a YouTube video here of her playing it live or something, but I can’t find one.  Strange how rare that is these days.)



Extraordinary picture, isn’t it.

Saturday morning I saw an article in the Telegraph about a photo of David Cameron posing with some Morris dancers in Banbury.  The Morris dancers had their faces blacked.  Since then the Guardian picked up on the story.  And the Independent.  And the Daily Mail.  And so on.  Twitter is going a little crazy for it right now, unsurprisingly.

So, is Morris dancing racist? (more…)

(or ‘Maybe the English weren’t totally shit at Classical Music after all!’)

Photo by Snapshooter46 (Flickr)
Photo by Snapshooter46 (Flickr)

Dear Diary,

Look look!  Shiny new web pages!!

About Me


The Half Moon All Stars

The Bastard English Session

Part of the new concerted effort to be, organised, particularly when it comes to gig hunting.


In other news, I’ve fallen in love again.  His name is Jenkins, and he’s been dead for over 300 years.  Don’t tell Hannah.


Lovely night at the Jericho Tavern on Friday. I discussed my love of mermaids, and everyone seemed very understanding. Watch for the point, 54 seconds in, when I realise there’s a capo on my guitar where there really shouldn’t be one.