After Tyne Bridge practice we almost always go to the pub. Some of us might prefer to go the Cumberland Arms, Byker, which is the spiritual home of traditional dance in Newcastle. However as there is another pub within walking distance of the banjo-player’s home we usually go there.

Last night we walk in and standing at the bar was a musician mate of Banjoman. Matey flung his arms around me saying “Ooh - my favourite person.�

Now I’m not used to this sort of reception – and he wasn’t even drunk – so I looked a little quizzical.

“Well� he explained “You p*ssed off Ginger the melodeon player. He used to be a mate of mine - once.�(I won’t explain further – it might be libellous)

This leads us nicely into the problem of finding musicians to play for dancing.

One of the perks of writing for the Journal is that you get some great invites.
I was invited this week to a Fairtrade event by Business in the Community .
The event was titled 'The business case for Fairtrade in your workplace.

The Episcopalian Church in the USA appears to have shown the white flag in relation to the perceived burning question touching upon the installation of 'gay' bishops.

I use inverted commas because I belong to a generation where gay meant happy, rather than homosexual.

If every little helps, no matter how small, then even adjusting your search engine page to a black google can help to make a decrease in the amount of climate changing gases released as a result of your internet surfing habits.
Blackle , an all black version of the google search engine page, claims to have so far saved 218,461.638 watt hours of energy.

At 5.45pm on Thursday 24th September 1992 my lovely husband Phil Ranson passed away and I was widowed. The cancer that had started in his bowel and moved to his liver finally filled his lungs and he was forced to give up the fight for breath.

It was the day after my 36th birthday, and he had given me the best present he could that year, simply by staying alive. Although, being a musician, he always did have good timing.

A fellow was doing World War Two Re-enactment at Whalton Village Show on Saturday, a well-organised and successful event - full marks to all involved.

The living history display was groaning with artefacts from the period, particularly weaponry, bolt action Lee-Enfield rifles and bayonets.

Today is my birthday, and were I a Roman it would be my LI’th.

This year’s prize for the card, and gift, which made me laugh out loud goes to the Squire.

At practice on Thursday night my Goddaughter (the Squire’s daughter) said “I read your blog about morris and sport – gerrin!� – which I took as approval. This lead to conversation on morris as sport and competitions.

The Squire pointed out that there are Northumberland & Durham Clog competitions at Morpeth Gathering and the like. However this isn’t morris dancing. An English traditional dance yes – morris dancing no.

GOOD THING: My iPod

It was only when a colleague told me about an unfortunate orange squash-related accident that killed her iPod, that I began to realise how devastated I would be if it happened to me. The loss of the iPod, not the orange squash accident.

I was somewhat surprised on perusing the Journal’s Blog Central page this morning to find myself and morris dancing listed as Sport.

Now far be it from me to bite the hand that has given me a blog to write in but - Morris dancing a sport!

When someone told me back in the ‘80s that a morris or rapper team had asked Northern Arts for a grant and been told to go to the Sports Council (who quite reasonably told them to go away) – I didn't really believe them. Maybe I was wrong.