Songs, skirts and scones

Yeay, it’s Friday! Only half a day at work, lunch with my men at home, collecting the girls from school, and then what to do? Read my magazine that I just bought, bake, sew, sing? ‘Girls, what would you like to do?’ “You need to put the clothes back on our animals!’ Oops, in a frenzy of tidying I thought all those bits a fabrics tied around poor rabbits’ necks etc would be better in my scrap baskets. It seems it didn’t go unnoticed. Both girls wanted needle and thread. Are you sure? Sharp needle, prick, blood, tears, you know? Yes! Hendrikje went full steam ahead, very seriously. Kathrijn was complaining she couldn’t do it after coming out one side, going over and in again the other side (whilst managing to smear chocolate all over her face!). Tatatata-tada, sister to the rescue!

Hendrikje helped out and did a good job! After they both got fed up (ha!), they left me with a table full of fabric bits, calling downstairs: ‘can you make a dress for Berend?’ Berend is the big rabbit Hendrikje has had since she was born. Actually, she has two of them: Berend and …. Berend. We always thought we would surely leave one of them behind on a bus or something, so we got my sister to send a spare. Which obviously was never needed as such, so we now have two Berends.

I wanted a quick and easy way to make Hendrikje a satisfying dress. Right. Take fabric (that is already seamed on various sides because it used to be a curtain). Fold over, put rabbit on, mark liberally around the body, sew on the markings. Cut an opening for the head right in the middle, cut on the fold to an opening wide enough to fit receiver’s head. Fold in, stitch in place. Put on rabbit. Make daughter happy! Daughter not fussy: leave all uneven bits where they are!

Last Monday preparations for the Annual Concert in March started at the Pipers Club: all pupils and all instruments are divided into groups, studying on a set of tunes. Every year the annual concert showcases what the pupils have learned that year. Most singers play an instrument as well, so most are already studying hard at their tunes. Nonetheless, we are expected to make an appearance. Rather than rely on what we have done so far, and what we have more than likely already sung at the monthly session, the senior singers opted for two songs that will be new to everyone.

First we will attempt Alexander in harmony. If that fails, we will simply make it more lively by changing the amount of voices per verse. I heard Alexander sung for the first time at very first Slieve Gullion Singing Festival I attended in 1999. Two brothers, of whom I unfortunately do not know the names, sang it in harmony, and boy, was I impressed! I have never heard it sung that beautiful after that festival. Niamh Parsons recorded it for her album Blackbirds and Thrushes, but to a very chirpy tune, which to me somehow doesn’t sound ‘right’.

The second song we’ll sing is On board the Kangaroo. I first heard it sung on a Planxty record and it is one of those songs that will stick, no matter what. After I heard it again, but now on a recording by Elizabeth Cronin, it became a strong contender to be learned, which up to this day I never properly did. The song as recorded below is therefor sung a little bit of by heart, and a little bit peeked…

On board the Kangaroo mp3

ON BOARD OF THE KANGAROO

At first I was a waiter man that lived at home at ease
But now I am a mariner that ploughs the angry seas
I always liked seafaring life, and bit my love adieu
I shipped as steward and cook, my boys, on board of the Kangaroo

CHORUS
Oh, I never thought she would prove false,
Or either prove untrue,
Till we sailed away through Milford Bay,
On board the Kangaroo.

‘Oh, think of me, oh, think of me,’ she mournfully did say,
‘When you are in a foreign land and I am far away.
Take this lucky thrupenny bit, ’twill make you bear in mind
The loving, trusting faithful heart you’ve left in tears behind.’

Chorus

‘Cheer up, cheer up, my own true love, don’t weep so bitterly,’
She sobbed, she sighed, she choked, she cried, and could not say goodbye.
‘As I won’t be gone so very long, ’tis but a month or two,
And when I will return again, of course I’ll marry you.’

Chorus

Our vessel she was homeward bound from many a foreign shore,
And many a foreign present unto my love I bore.
I brought tortoises from Teneriffe and toys from Timbucktoo,
A china rat, a Bengal cat, and a Bombay cockatoo.

Chorus

Paid off I sought her dwelling in a suburb of the town,
Where an ancient dame upon a line was hanging out her gown.
‘Where is my love?’ ‘She’s married, sir, about six months ago,
To a smart young man that drives the van for Chapping, Son and Co.’

Chorus

Here’s a health to dreams of married life, to soap, to suds, and blue,
Heart’s true lovers, patent starch and washing soda too.
I ‘ll go unto some distant shore, no longer can I stay,
And on some China Hottentot I’ll throw myself away.

Chorus

My love she’s not a foolish girl, her age it is two score,
My love she’s not a spinster, she was married twice before.
I cannot say it was her wealth that stole me heart away,
She’s a starcher and a laundress for eighteen-pence a day.

Chorus

This month’s (early) Trad at the Trian was a blast: father and son fiddlers Gerry and Dónal O’Connor were joint by sean-nos singer Maire Ni Choilm. I knew of Gerry O’Connor’s fiddling from his solo album Journeymand and now I know him from the Pipers Club and Burns Night, when we shared the table with him and his wife Sheila. He is a renowned fiddler, known for playing in the groups Skylark (together with Len Graham) and La Lugh, and for his solo work. I have heard and seen Dónal O’Connor play in the brilliant band At first light, and we were both in Rita Gallagher’s singing class at the William Kennedy Piping Festival a few years ago. Initially I thought I hadn’t heard of Maire Ni Choilm (Oireachtas Women’s singing champion) before, but when the concert had finished, I was humming a song with her voice in my head. I suddenly realised that I didn’t just hear her sing that at the concert: I recorded her singing that song possibly in 2000 at one of the singing festivals!

Anyway, the concert was a great mix of a lot of, to me, unfamiliar fiddle tunes and beautiful, beautiful songs in Irish. Maire sang quite a few songs from Tory Island, an Island nine miles of the coast of Donegal. As my Irish is very rusty (only took one trimester in Irish at University before we moved here and never used Irish after that), I hadn’t a clue what the songs were about, apart from what Maire explained to us beforehand. But as most of the explanation was in Irish as well, we had to settle for ‘A love song’ e.g.. Well, love is universally understood, especially unacquainted love.

Maire once more confirmed to me that the voice is an instrument, and perhaps the most wonderful instrument of all.

After the concert, as usual, the party continued in D’Averell House, but as I was still suffering from Burns Night and a week long staring at web demonstration of software, I left Paul to his own devices. I now wish I had gone along. Two guests of D’Averell house were enjoying the session when conversation led to the question if they played any instruments. Yes, we play guitar. Paul had privilege to sit in in a session with eduardo …

Below two video recordings: the first is of Gerry O’Connor, Martin O’Hare and Paul McSherry, the second of At first light, with Dónal of fiddle. Enjoy!

This little bit of film from a looooong time ago never fails to make me smile, if not lagh out loud. A few years ago The Sound of Music was a visual staple in our little house on the Mall. However young Kathrijn was (maybe only 1,5 years), she definitely knows the words. Watch Hendrikje’s action in the beginning, Kathrijn’s very articulate MMMMMMMMMME!, and smile. Apologies for Kathrijn’s snotty nose!

Rise and shine: it is time to bake! After Paul stayed on after yesterday’s concert for the session (I will regret not going for a few weeks after it turned out Eduardo Niebla was staying in the guest house where the session was and decided to join in…. Never heard of him before, but Paul recorded a little of his playing. It must have been a magical surprise to everyone!), it is my turn to get up early on Saturday.

After an inspection of the fridge, there seems to be a lot of carrots lurking about, again! Mmm, the same carrot cake would be nice, but as I now work full time and the weekend is really the only opportunity to relax and try something new, I opt for a different carrot cake. In Leiths Baking bible there are a few carrots cakes, of which the Apricot and carrot streusel cake (crumble cake) is particularly appealing…

Still in pyamas (the recipe states ‘bake for 1/1,5 hours’: no time for showers or other futilities, if I want the cake to be ready for tea at 11!), the mixture is made, apricots and sunflower seeds (as I lack the pecan nuts mentioned in the recipe) chopped and the cake layered in the tin. During all this time, it was lovely and quiet in the kitchen. “Can we watch tv mummy?”, “Caster sugar, yeah, sure, muttermutter”. After an hour’s baking the knife still came out wet, but the cake smelt rather dark-brown already. Quickly put a sheet of baking paper on top. But hey, wait a minute, where has the crumble gone?! The top of the cake is lovely and smooth, but shouldn’t a crumble top be, euh, crumbly?

After adding extra time twice the cake was deemed edible by the blond vultures who had started to surround me and the cake. The cutting of the cake solved the mystery of the disappeared crumble: at the bottom of the cake there was a dark, rich, sticky, yummy layer of crumble mixture…

Needless to say, we like!

As said, if the crumble has disappeared, it will be found at the bottom! If the cake isn’t ready yet but already quite dark, put a sheet of baking parchment/paper over the top and possibly turn down the oven a little.

I know the recipe always say, “Let it cool down completely on a wire rack”, but can you think of anything nicer than a home made cake still warmmmmmmmmmmmm. Thought not.

For the precise reader: yes, I had neglected to add anything on Green grows the laurel. So I’ll make up for that now. I have heard the song with two different tunes to it: the first time I heard it, it was sung by one of my favorite traditional singers: Len Graham. That version has a rather sad and gloomy tune to it. The version the singers sang on Burns Night is more upbeat and I know I have heard this version outside the Pipers before, but I can’t think of where or when… I believe it is of Scottish origin.

Have a listen: Green grows the laurel
I once had a true love but now I have none,
She’s gone and left me and I’m all alone,
She’s gone and left me, contented must be,
She loves another far better than me.

Chorus:    And it’s green grows the laurel, soft falls the dew
Sorry am I love I’m parted with you
Sorry am I love, contended must be
She loves another far better than me

Oh I passed my loves window both early and late
And the looks that she gave me, it made my heart break,
The look that she gave me would ten thousand kill
For she loves another and I love her still.

Chorus

Oh I wrote my love a letter in grand rosy lines,
The answer she send back was twisted and twined,
You write to your love and I will write mine,
You write to your love and I’ll write to mine.

Chorus

O I wonder, I wonder why women love men,
I wonder and ever think why they love them,
Women are faithful and kind as you know
But men are deceivers wherever they go.

Chorus

O dear, dear, dear. Gone are the days when 11 pm was the time we went out for a few drinks. Now at 11 we were soooo ready to go to bed. But, as usual after a good night, we are unable to sleep from the adrenaline rush… yawn.

It is now two days after the annual Armagh Pipers Club Burns Night and I still feel like I had too much to drink (and I don’t drink…). The night was a great gathering of parents, children and teachers of the Club. The evening of course started with the piping in of the haggis, then the Address to a Haggis , heartfelt brought by one of the Armagh Rhymers.

After a hearty meal of haggis, neeps and tatties (chips and nuggets for those afraid to live) and a desert of crumble and ice cream, it was time for the ceilidh. Lots of singing, mixed with instrumental sets. Everyone did a really good job, especially considering some had only been asked to perform the day before!! The singers did really well. They all had their lyric sheets in front of them, just in case, and I was behind them everytime to provide some, literally, backup singing.

The junior singers performed Green grows the laurel, the seniors Now Westlin winds and there was a whole selection of soloists and duets who sang the following songs: Bleacher lass of Kelvinhaugh by Méabh Smyth and Finnola Mallon, Jamie Raeburn by Sinéad Breen, Caledonia (not the Dougie Maclean one) by Joan Kiernan, some wonderfull Scots Gaelic songs by sisters Alana and Laura Henderson, Jock O’Hazeldean by brothers Dermot and Emmet Mulholland, Ae fond kiss by Áine Mallon, and o yeah, someone sang Follow the heron home, gulp.

I hadn’t been that nervous about singing in front of other people for a long time. Usually I sing along with the groups, or when I sing on my own, it would be in the informal setting of a session. Not this time though. When I started singing I could actually hear my voice vibrate because I was shaking, even my knees were moving along. After the first verse and first chorus I took an extra breath and planted my feet  a little further apart and that helped getting some control back in my voice, Well, have a listen for yourself: Follow the heron.mp3

It was a good night.

*******

Karine has kindly given permission to post the recording of her song and copy the lyrics in the post. Check out her website and her songs: www.karinepolwart.com

Follow The Heron
Words and Music: Karine Polwart (Bay Songs Ltd)

The back of the winter is broken
And light lingers long by the door
And the seeds of the summer have spoken
In gowans that bloom on the shore

CHORUS
By night and day we’ll sport and we’ll play
And delight as the dawn dances over the bay
Sleep blows the breath of the morning away
And we follow the heron home

In darkness we cradled our sorrow
And stoked all our fires with fear
Now these bones that lie empty and hollow
Are ready for gladness to cheer

CHORUS

So long may you sing of the salmon
And the snow scented sounds of your home
While the north wind delivers its sermon
Of ice and salt water and stone

CHORUS X 2

Grey Heron

I can hear you think: did she not just say she made a cake on Friday night? Euhm, yes, but I can multitask! While I was baking my cake, I had the laptop placed strategically on the work surface, with Now westlin winds in iTunes on repeat. On Thursday I had spent all my free time (walking to, from, to and from work) listening to Malinky with their old singer Karine Polwart, singing Follow the heron home. O, how I love that song! And, after listening to it about 15 times, I think I can sing it without having to think too much on the lyrics. Now westlin winds is a completely different story all together. I hadn’t made the time yet to sit down and read through the lyrics, so I just couldn’t get them in my head.

So, while measuring, mixing, baking and washing up, I listened to it over and over again until I was getting quite annoyed! Today I put up the lyrics on the kitchen window, and while I was doing the dishes, I went through each verse until I could sing it off by heart. I got there in the end. Tomorrow will be the big test: will I remember all the songs for Burns Night? Expect a late night report tomorrow evening, along with recordings of both Follow the heron home and Green grows the laurel….

Over the last few months I have started to feel more and more content and happy about the life I lead and share with my family. Several times a day I can just sigh and smile and think: I AM SO HAPPY! My relationship with Paul, the children, our ‘new’ home, my new-found hobbies, my singing, my work, it all seems to be a 100% at the moment….

All this family bliss and reading about others families’ lifes has made me realise that we ‘do’ very little out of the house as a family. We are real homebodies, and although we really enjoy being out together, there never seems to be that urge to actually go out. If we go away for a day with five of us, it is usually well planned and long planned. This week I thought we might take the opportunity to take the old car out for a last weekend spin, as we have spotted a potential new (second-hand) car. Go somewhere nice for a winter walk, somewhere with a playground for the children. Bring some cake and hot chocolate in a flask. The plan went down well, so considering my usual lousy timing for Saturday baking, I thought it was better to bake the cake on Friday having all ready for Saturday morning.

Wondering what to bake usually is preceded by a check of the fridge and baking section of the top cupboard: butter, check; eggs, check; sugar, check; flour, check. Last night the check went on: chocolate, mmmm, very little; almonds, check; any other fridge contents that may be usable for a cake, check! There were still some carrots leftover and as carrot cake is one of our favorite cakes, the decision was easily made. The recipe I use makes a lovely moist and fluffy cake, with raisins and ground almonds.

Almond carrot cake (±20 cm ø)

• 170 grams self-raising flour
• 1 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
• 1 teaspoon mixed spice
• 0.5 teaspoon ground ginger
• 225 grams soft brown sugar, light or dark
• 85 grams raisins
• 100 grams ground almonds
• 150 grams sunflower oil (or any other neutral tasting oil)
• 2 eggs
• 340 grams grated carrot
• 55 grams cream cheese
• 30 grams butter
• 1 orange: grated zest
• 140 grams icing  sugar

To start preheat the oven to 170C, and line a tine with grease-free baking paper. With easy transportation in mind, I used a tray rather than a round tin, reducing the cooking time by half (hoping for the best!).

Sift the flour, bicarbonate of soda, mixed spice and ground ginger into a large bowl. Add the sugar, raisins and almonds, oil, beaten eggs and carrots and mix mix mix. I use an electric mixer at a high speed and mix until the mixture is nice and creamy, without any lumps.

Pour the mixture into the tin and bake for 1 hour. Put a piece of greasfree paper on top of the tin and bake for another 15 minutes until done. The cake is done when a cocktail stick or sharp clean knife comes out clean.

To make an icing for this cake: soften the butter, and mix with the cream cheese and orange zest until it is creamy. Bit by bit add the icing sugar. Initially it may seem like way too much icing sugar, but be persistent: you’ll see it will all dissolve eventually. When the cake has cooled down completely (miss this bit, and your icing will slide off the cake in no time) on a wire rack, cover with the icing. Nice with a cup of tea.

Mmmm, I think it is actually time for a cuppa with a little smackerel of something….

Decisions, decisions, decisions… A couple of nights ago I laid out all the Sent with love fabrics, plus all sorts of other fabrics I have in my stash to see what may look nice together. One fits one but not the other, the other fits one, but not the next… Think think think. I think this will take a little bit longer than expected.

I quite like not using only the pink fabrics, but putting some of the green, red and white in as well. Unfortunately, I don’t have any whote or red. Yet!