Skip to main content

Poozies, Windies and Wobblies






'What are you going to wear, then?’ asks my dear friend, Jill.
‘Well, first I’m going to knit some sandals…’
‘Don’t forget your dirndl skirt!’
‘Ooh, and a hairy, multi-colour, organic jumper!
Our mutual mirth is due to the fact that the Night of Reckoning is here. What seemed a great Christmas present idea has now come home to roost. I’m taking Tom to see the Poozies, an all girl folk band described with words like ‘uplifting’ and ‘traditional’ ie not my bag at all. My disquiet increases on the way to the venue when I ask Tom how long it is since he’s seen them.
‘Seen them? I’ve never seen them.’
Turns out he saw them once on the telly and ‘quite liked them’ so bought a couple of their CDs on the strength on it. One of the drawbacks of getting together a bit later in life, apart from being missing being young and foolish together, is that there’s enough trauma just getting together without delving too much into each other’s young and foolish pasts as well. Sometimes you can get things wrong. It’s a horrible night, wet and windy, and for a moment I wonder why we’re going at all but, hey, the cosy Theatr Mwldan is only twenty minutes away and live music is always worth hearing.

Feeling smug that we don’t have to worry about parking or last trains back to the suburbs we head inside where the theatre is practically heaving and there isn’t a freaky jumper or hair-do in sight. There isn’t even any evidence of that other sub-species much in evidence at arty gatherings round here, women who dress in what the Guardian’s Jess Cartner-Morley calls the ‘Hampstead playwright’ look ie flowing black, velvet scarf and ethnic earrings. If it wasn’t for the fact I spy the rather strange man who Tom left me to do the last dance with when we turned up for a Welsh class and found it had turned into a folk dancing nightmare, I’d swear this audience had been bussed in.

We take our seats (no fighting or groping in the moshpit tonight) and the five Poozies arrive on time and with sweet smiles and even sweeter voices. Ah, what can I say? I would never play this music in the privacy of my own study but it’s impossible to be mean about such good musicians. They play and sing their little hearts out for the best part of two hours, wrapping the audience in a glow of loveliness and chatting to their fans in the break. It’s a thoroughly entertaining evening. Just as well, really, because the other gig I bought Tom tickets for is coming up soon. Bellowhead are a fifteen piece band, a bit like folk’s answer to Arcade Fire… hmm, better get knitting.

When we bought this house the surveyor described the location as ‘severely exposed’ which I glossed over in my haste to get to the stunning view of the Preseli hills. Whilst the wind has been a feature of living here it’s never been as bad as last Saturday when I was really frightened. The first big gust took our fence off, like a shred of paper, but the next stripped the ridge tiles off the three houses opposite as quickly as tearing off a plaster. I wasn’t exactly pleased when those houses were built but, my goodness, I felt for my neighbours then.

Look, no new novel sidebar. Well, not yet, but since I’m in the Novel Racers’ race for Complete New Work it’s about time I got started. I’m very torn between an idea I’ve been kicking round for ages about a place that haunts me or going with a something in the same vein as FTT. Right, I must make a decision this week – ‘though if I was a right clever clogs like some people I could work on both. Oooh, what to do? Come on Chris!

Painting is ‘Royal Festival Hall’ by Tom Tomos

Comments

Edward said…
I loved The Poozies when they had Karen Tweed on accordion (she used to play with Kathryn Tickell, you may recall). You should hear Milla on the subject of female musicians (apart from Joan Armatrading, that is)
Jenny Beattie said…
Wow, that wind sounds fierce. I'm glad you're all intact.
Pipany said…
Glad your house is still in one piece Chris. The novel will come, just don't fight it (and I will apply that to my tax return!!!) xx
Milla said…
yes, not a fan of whining warbling, but prepared, always, to have what passes for my mind to be changed.
Glad you had a good time - wise to dread something though. But what about Jess CM!! Does not that twee little way she stands make you want to smash her chops in?
Pondside said…
Never heard of the Poozies, but the name alone makes me cringe. I had to laugh at the possible dress code for the evening. We call that way of dressing Full Vancouver Island - usually means long, flowing locks (on both genders), fuzzy socks, homespun pants for the men and baggy smocks for the women. The urban version of the look requires large pieces of art jewellery and a jacket hand-painted in black and red in an aboriginal design (to show one's solidarity, sensitivity and good taste, I presume)
Flowerpot said…
Never heard the Poozies but it's such a great name! Best of luck with the novel decision - at least yu have choices though so if one doesnt feel quite right you can change tack!
Fennie said…
Nor me! Never heard of the Poozies. But then I don't go to concerts unless it is Leonard Cohen, or just possibly Riverdance which is on in Cardiff at the end of March. Anyway, some wind. Poor you. I agree scary. But put in in your novel - you could base a whole book on how three days of wind altered a family in a shaking home. Does strange things to people wind - and animals too.
Crikey, I thought it was windy here. We're so high (if you can call anywhere in Jersey high) that we can see France, Guernsey and sometimes Alderney (but that's only occasionally). The downside to the views is the constant wind, but I love it most of the time.

Wouldn't have fancied those storms you had though, frightening.
nimblejacks said…
I'm guessing you had the 80mph gusts we did down Gower? The trampolie was skipping merrily about on the lawn, the kids footie goals vanished to devon we think. Every slate on the roof above kiers'as room rattled and kept her awake so we had her snoaring in our bed all night too. Lovely. Our house like your is a sturdy welsh one so it came through in one piece! I have a freind who like the Poozies- he uses a crystal as a deoderant! Nuff said:D Bellowhead played at the Gower Folk Festival, very good live if maybe slightly strange........
Expat mum said…
Had to laugh at your post title and had no idea what was coming. You see, my five year old calls farts "windies" - because 5 year olds shouldn't be using words like fart.
BT said…
What a laugh! Poozies indeed. Never heard of them either but I too would have given them a go! Sounds an interesting evening and very 'refined'!

We, too, had those awful winds on Saturday and I thought what was left of our cottage was going to blow away. Lots of fallen trees around but luckily for us no damage.

Now that picture of the Festival Hall. My father was a timpani and percussionist and used to play there. I saw him play several times at the RFH but his main venue was Covent Garden, where he played for 25 years. Wonderful memories. Love the picture. I covet.
Chris Stovell said…
Edward, Mairearad Green was great on accordion, played superbly with Eilidh Shaw on fiddle.
JJ - still here but there's more to come!
Pip - thanks for both.
Milla, an expression I used to use until someone smashed mine in!
Pndisde, oh so there's a Canadian variety, too! With an aboriginal twist!
Flowerpot - yes but I'm worried they're both cr*p!
Fennie, seeing Leonard Cohen sounds great but wild horses wouldn't get me to Riverdance!
Debs, and I thought we had good views but yours sound stunning.
Nimblejacks - yep, those were the ones! I think some of our fence might be in Devon too! Hmm, interesting comments about Bellowhead - should I stick crystal under my arm for that one do you think?
Expatmum, tell you what those windies were enough to give you the other windies!
BT, glad you didn't get too blown away, sounds as if you've got some logs now. Thank you so much for your comments about the painting - I love it but was beginning to think no one else did. Your dad must have been a good musician.
Lane Mathias said…
Gosh, the title of your post really does sum up your week!

Hope that vicious wind had died down and hope you decide which way to go with book 2. If something is 'haunting' you, then that sounds worth a whirl. Good luck Chris.
Maggie Christie said…
I'm glad that you enjoyed the Poozies, and thank goodness you survived that terrible weather last week. If I jump up and down a bit you might (just) see me waving from your lovely view! Good luck with the new novel. Why not try writing a bit of both and see which feels best. I'm pretty sure you've got it in you to do both at once though.
Loved the name Poozies (in a cringe making kind of way) and also loved Pondside's description of the Canadian version of the audience.
Glad you didn't get blown right away. Lovely and quiet here right now and, whisper it, the sun is shining.
Beth said…
Glad you enjoyed them :) I've been behind blogging and commenting but am catching up with myself (and everyone else!) now :)
Think my claim to fame must be liking Bellowhead - honest! Hope the gales have subsided by now
BT said…
Hi again Chris. Indeed my Dad was one of the best drummers in the business at the time. Sadly he died in 1987. I've been 'tagged' for a meme and the instructions to tag on don't work for me, so here it is. Ignore if you will!

25 Things Meme from LeatherdykeUK
Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.

To do this, go to “notes” under tabs on your profile page, paste these instructions in the body of the note, type your 25 random things, tag 25 people (in the right hand corner of the app) then click publish.

Who's Me? - Why it's BT!
Chris Stovell said…
Lane, oh I just don't know! Grr!
Mags, It was awful, wasn't it - but I can see you today! Still don't know what to do.
Elizabeth, yes, I have a sighting of something yellow and watery in the sky- at last!
B, you are a busy bunny on the Big Girls Course so no wonder you are pushed for time. Thanks for popping by.
SBS, I'm looking forwards to seeing them, should be interesting.
BT, That's something to be really proud of. Can't face a meme just at the moment, not on a Sunday morning anyway but will catch up with it later!
Un Peu Loufoque said…
Tell me do folk singers still close their eyes and stick a finger in their ear? By the way I think we have your wind here, we certainly didn't order it and its causing havoc, would you like it back now?

Popular posts from this blog

Happy Endings, New Beginnings

Blended families come with conflicting loyalties and at Christmas time nearly everyone has somewhere else they feel they ought to be. Throw partners into the equation and it gets even more complicated. Since Tom and I aren’t especially hung up about Christmas we’re happy to let our children go with the strongest flow, but I have to say it was a great delight to have the girls and their partners staying with us this year. When such moments are few and far between they become very precious. My stepsons weren’t far from our thoughts either, not least because we had the very happy news on Christmas Day that my elder stepson and his girlfriend had become engaged. Congratulations Dan and Gill, here’s wishing you every happiness together. Tom and I end a year that has seen the fruition of many years work, both of us crossing important thresholds within weeks of each other. I’m really looking forwards to seeing Turning the Tide published next year and it’s been so satisfying, after al

Reconnecting

I hadn't realised it until now , but it’s probably no coincidence that my last post was about our trip to Norwich, a city I’ve loved since studying at UEA. I wrote, then, that coming home was a hard landing, a feeling that took me completely by surprise as it’s been such a privilege to live in this beautiful, remote spot on the very edge of the west Wales coast. A trip to Skye at the end of October - Tom’s choice - with Ma, was a truly lovely holiday. The weather was kind, the colours of those breathtaking seascapes will stay with me, as will all the happy memories we made that week. And, because our small cottage had been so beautifully modernised and worked so well for the three of us, it was easy to imagine what it might be like to live somewhere different. If travel doesn’t broaden the mind, it certainly brings a new perspective. By the end of the year, Tom and I had decided that it was time for a change, time to move closer to a town (we are neither of us, as they say, getting

Fly Free, Dottie Do

‘How many days to my birthday?’ Ma asks. I do a quick calculation. ‘Eighteen,’ I reply. ‘Eighteen days until your ninetieth birthday.’ Ma pulls a face and shakes her head. Every sentence is hard work for her now, when each breath is a struggle. ‘You’ll have to write a book about this, you know,’ she says, with one of her quick, mischievous smiles. ‘“Carry On Dying”. Make ‘em laugh, make ‘em cry.’ The smile fades. ‘Who knew,’ she adds wearily, ‘that dying would be such a palaver?’  It’s only eleven days since Ma was diagnosed with a high-grade, aggressive lymphoma, four days since she was overwhelmed with pain and breathing difficulties and was admitted as an emergency to hospital. Until a few weeks ago, she lived completely independently; shopping, cooking, cleaning and tending her much-loved garden. The deterioration in her health is shockingly rapid. The eight days preceding her death are a living hell, a constant battle with the ward staff to get Ma the pain relief she’s been presc