Down By The River

Another week, another evening dance out. It's easy to get a bit blasé about evening dance outs, I suppose. Most sides, during the summer, tend to dance out at pubs rather than practice, and around May to June time there is usually frantic ringing round pubs and other sides arranging it all.
This week, we were dancing with Crooked Steeple, a North-West side from Cleobury Mortimer, at The Mughouse, a pub in Bewdley on (and sometimes in!) the River Severn. The phenomenal amount of rain we've had this summer means that we can take nothing for granted, and the weather wasn't looking good all day. The Severn is up at Bewdley, although since they installed the flood barriers the buildings along Severnside are relatively safe.
So with an eye on the skies, we drove the three miles or so to Bewdley and parked up. Having blacked up, dressed in tatters, strapped on the bells, I lugged my three drums around to the pub. I really need a trolley of some sort. Crooked Steeple were already there and ready to go, as were most of our crew. Just time for a pint then. The Mughouse is a cracking pub, serving Bewdley's Worcestershire Way and Wye Valley's Hereford Pale, among others. I chose the Pale and went outside to sing about it. In fact we started with "John Barleycorn" a dance closely following the traditional song about ale, and written by my wife. I sing the first verse to start us off, and the last verse to finish it. Not always in the same key. Anyway, it seemed to go down almost as well as my pint, so a good job done.
We had a great crowd for a Monday evening, a few dozen people watching us over the course of the evening, which is actually quite encouraging. They were appreciative too, and loudly clapped and cheered at the end of the dances. Crooked Steeple are a great North West side with a good band and a new drummer, with whom I compared notes a bit. Well, other musicians don't tend to talk to drummers much ;-) One of the good things about dancing with a North West side is that their dances are all over five minutes long, so you get a good break in between. Plenty of time for topping up the Pale then! I managed four by the end of the evening. And the rain? Well, it kept off yet again.
Standing outside a pub, pint of honest English Ale in your tankard, gazing over the River Severn as it flows by in spate. Good dancing, good music, good company.
Blasé about it all? Actually, I can't think of anywhere else in the world I'd rather be. Evenings like this are really rather sublime.