Unlike previous years when we'd find some good music, find a chair and sit and listen for the best part of an hour, this year we struggled to listen to any music at all. Partly, this was due to Mr M who just couldn't or wouldn't sit still. Each time we entered a venue, he'd ask if The Wiggles or Hi-5 were going to be there. As the answer was always 'no', he was always disappointed. So, we managed to hear:
- three songs by the Dujks
- one song by the haBiBis
- most of a concert by slide guitarist Richard Steele
- maybe three songs by George Jackson and Davydd McDonald
- two pieces by the Griffyn Ensemble
- three pieces by Jim Conway's Big Wheel
- one and a half songs by Mr Fibby
- three, maybe three and a half songs by Trouble in the Kitchen.
Not a huge amount of music spread over four days. We did, however, do lots of 'kiddy' things. We queued for face painting (once), for balloons (twice). We sat on asphalt and watched street theatre. We chased a pair of 'ducks' around the festival on at least two occasions. We bought hot dogs, strawberry ice-cream, and donuts (not simultaneously). We sat on the asphalt again to watch Irish drumming workshops. We played marbles in the kid's tent. We watched the Morris dancers more than once. Mr M loved the Morris dancers - although when asked whether he liked the dancing or the music best, he said it was the music he loved. And we watched a fantastic, traditional Punch and Judy show.
We also 'lost' Mr M at least twice (hence the attraction of the leash) and lost forever his current favourite hat. So we spent quite a bit of time visiting lost property, which entailed going up and down stairs. And we spent quite a bit more time going to the toilet (a slow process at the best of times because someone likes to take off all his clothes).
Still, the thing I like best about the folk festival is the sense of community it generates. And although this year we ran foul of the folk Nazis (one of whom complained about Mr M playing with the game pieces left on tables for people to play with in one of the venues) and crossed swords with the chair Nazis (one of whom really did need SEVEN chairs, not one of which was sat on in the 20 minutes J was waiting), we met some lovely people. Sharing tables, we chatted to Max, one of the founders of the Gympie Muster, and his wife. We also met two blokes from Sydney, who didn't object at all when Mr M helped himself to their prawn chips. And we ran into many people that we rarely see these days (as well as many that we do see) and so enjoyed lots of brief, catch-up conversations.
And now Easter is over and we still haven't reached the end of March. Happy Easter.
