But that was somewhere else. The chill days of winter are upon us, and the same log in the Leinster fireplace as last year is burning cheerfully. Given the gloomy old day, the Chopper Read Ballroom took a while to warm up. Curtis, Happysnaps Findlay, Noel, the Captain, Neil the G and meself opened the batting and it went downhill from there.

Gentleman JC fronted with his stick bass, wore his fingers to a frazzle and gratefully took to the piano when Ponytail Pete arrived.

You would think that a relatively underpopulated jam session would at least mean I could remember who was there and what they played, but I can get no further than more singers than usual, and enjoyably cheesy toons.

Matron’s list. Dropping like flies at the moment … Laurie “my saxophone is bigger than yours” Savage is currently malingering (at last!) with an ingrown toenail or some such. Colonel T (retd) of the Fourth Light Punjab Horse fell off his camel whilst pedalling down a wet track, rearranged parts of the landscape, did a little light dermabrasion, and might be back next week, no uglier than before. Not sure who else might qualify for the Sick List, but you are all excused ball games and Epistrophy in F#minor until you feel better.

As with all sessions, this one was fun, and the pub got quite full later on. I rather think we didn’t play Summertime, or Autumn Leaves. Coincidence? Society is to blame.

Toodlepip! See ya next Sunday?

Tip of the week: You don’t have to know about improvisation.
TW