The days are getting shorter, and the cold rain is damping down the last embers of summer, letting us know that winter, in her white cloak and frosted hood, is knocking at the door waiting to be let in....
So what did we do to console ourselves? Migrate south? Find a tea-chest, fill it with straw, climb in and hibernate? Not on your Nelly! We grabbed our ukuleles, got on down to the Golf Club and served ourselves up a warming musical stew of rich, meaty ballads, spicy canticles, peppery madrigals and oniony airs.
It was, of course, another excellent and convivial night, and I look forward to seeing you all safe and sound in November.