venta

Well, there were further thoughts from a small folk festival, only I haven't had time to write them down. First I was busy thinking them, then driving down, then at work, then

broadmeadow and I went to a peculiarly imaginative quiz last night, run by a friend of his.

They may get written up at some point. Or maybe not. However, to be going on with:

Things I learnt from listening to folk songs[*] this weekend:

Any broken-down race horse running at fantastically long odds will come in first.

Women can't be trusted.

Men can't be trusted either.

Things used to be better.

Things will be better tomorrow.

Seven (long) years is enough to render the love of your life unrecognisable.

Gentlemen: if you meet a woman who is crying on account of her love being lost at sea/killed in battle/otherwise missing, the correct course of action is immediately to propose marriage. This may result in felicitous domestic bliss, or the lady spontaneously committing suicide.

Cocaine's for horses but it ain't for men.

Black socks never get dirty.

It's difficult to catch an excited sort of beetle you've mistaken for a match.

A shark in the garden pond will cure your wife of reading Dennis Wheatley novels.

Seemingly blameless activities like hunting for black hares, catching birds, or sitting side by side in assorted forms of agricultural transport can result in pregnancy.

Bosses are bastards.

You can't break the faith of a Tolpuddle man.

[*] Where a "folk song" is defined as something I heard someone sing in a place notionally called a folk club.

In other news, thanks to my lovely parents and the lovely DaveT (who renovated it for me), I'm now the proud owner of an English concertina. Yay :)

Now all I have to do is learn to play it, of course.