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Mish and I have just returned from our trip to Boston.  We had a great time reconnecting with our friends, seeing our old stomping grounds and even discovering some new ones.

This trip turned into a bit of a musical adventure.  Our friend Bethany had asked me to sing at her wedding (a favour I was happy to be able to repay as she had sung beautifully at ours in 2006).  Bethany is the Contemporary Music Director at Newton Presbyterian Church, where the wedding was to be.  She has assembled a talented bunch of musicians and it was great to be able to play in a band again.   After some rehearsal I managed to get through the song without messing up too much and the backing was great from the guys.

I had also dragged my banjo over the ocean with me. I don’t think I could stand being apart from it for a whole week so it was nice to be asked to sing a wee song at the reception in-between the sets from the Ceilidh band.

Before leaving, I had briefly looked for opportunities to play in Boston.  I had noticed a couple of open-mic nights and sessions but they just didn’t work with our schedule.  Our good friend Lisa, who we were staying with, had suggested we try the Cantab Lounge as it has a very well established open-mic night on Mondays.

By this point in the trip I must confess I was a little knackered.  We had been enjoying a nice dinner in Harvard Square with Lisa and Kelly who was visiting, so I wasn’t too bothered when time got away from us and we were quite late for the start of the open-mic.  I thought at this point it would be way too late to sign up and was actually relieved.

We decided to walk along to the bar anyway and check it out for next time.  On the walk over to Central Square we happened to walk passed a music shop called Sandy’s.  I remember buying guitar strings there when I lived in Boston for a short while in 2004.   I had to make a quick double take when I heard and saw a bunch of banjo, fiddle and cello players crammed in the shop and jamming away.

Unbelievably they were having an Old Time open jam session.  I plucked up the courage to ask if I could join them and they were more than welcoming, so I tuned up to the key of A and away we went.  I kept up with the playing as best as I could whilst Michelle, Lisa and Kelly managed to squeeze in to the shop and find a seat.

I shakily shared a couple of songs with the group and learned a good few more.  It was amazingly serendipitous to happen upon the session like that and I was thrilled to get the chance to  play with other clawhammer and traditional fiddle players.  It was interesting to hear the difference in styles between traditional American and Scottish traditional fiddle playing, particularly the cross-tunings and I learned a lot just by listening to what was going on.  I’ve made a good few mental notes of improvements I can make to my playing for the next time I accidentally come across a jam session.

Jon and Kathy, two of the musicians there,  have set up a nice website called planetbanjo.com where you can hear some soundclips of the type of music we were playing.

Here is a link to Sandy’s Music shop in Cambridge: www.sandysmusic.org  You can find out more about their instruments,  services and regular jam sessions.

After a wee while we headed off to the Cantab but I was not overwhelmed by the place so decided to head home, my musical appetite already well and truly sated.

We’re in Boston, MA right now to go to a wedding and catch up with some friends. It’s nice to be back in the city and we’re acting like absolute tourists (we even bought mugs from the fake Cheers).

I’ll post more soon but in the meantime I’ll tweet when I get the chance.

Mucking about in “Double C” tuning after a long, stressful day at work.

After having a really good time playing at a session on Sunday I decided to give it another shot.  The Antiquary pub is within walking distance from our flat and it has a session on a Thursday night.  It’s listed in the Edinburgh Gig Guide as an “informal session” so I thought I’d give it a try.

I packed up my banjo and uke and headed off to the pub and ordered up a pint before sitting down to where I assumed the session would be happening.  I tried to introduce myself and make small talk (which is really hard for me as I’m not very outgoing).  Most folks just kind of ignored me and carried on in their conversations so I sat in silence for for around twenty minutes occasionally nodding to the other “new guy” in the bar who looked equally uncomfortable.  This guy had his wife sitting next to him and she didn’t look best pleased to be there.

Folks start getting their instruments out of bags and next thing an Antipodean woman supervised the lifting of a rather large harp to the corner of the table.  She rudely banished the people who were already sitting at the table who were “not musicians” and then instructed New Guy’s wife to move.  At this point New Guy’s wife storms out of the pub.  New Guy follows behind.  Oh joy!

I start to notice that I am the only person around the table who doesn’t have a beard.  I was the only one not wearing a chunky knit jumper. “It’s like  the effing Wicker Man!” - I thought to myself

After another ten minutes of feeling about as welcome as a lion at a zebra convention,  I decided this wasn’t the place for me. ” Bugger this” - I thought.  I didn’t want to be made to feel crap sharing something I enjoy. I grabbed my bags and snuck out.

Maybe next time I should scope places out first before rocking up to a folk-session.

Still, I’m looking forward to my next adventure.  Gives me more time to practise.

If you’re around the Antiquary on a Thursday night and you start to hear songs about the “Landlord’s daughter” - Get the Hell out of there!

Last week was a wee bit exhausting… as one of my part-time jobs is working in a church as the children’s/youth worker and Paul goes to a different church for which we both volunteer with their youth group as well, I was a bit busy with church events spread out across the two churches.  All in all, I worked 24 hours at OSP, volunteered about 20 hours at St. Philip’s and worked 21 hours at the holiday club for afterschool club.  Meanwhile, most of the commuting between my two jobs was on foot - so I put in some serious walking miles last week too.  Alot of the work was preparing for church events, but by Saturday morning - it was all go!

We ran a children’s stations of the cross at OSP in the morning.  There is so much preparation leading up to such an event, but as the children learned about the Last Supper and planted flowers in the Easter Garden, it was such a joy to see their smiles and hear their questions as they tried to understand the Easter Story.  It was particularly amazing to see our youngest participant really grasping the liturgy as he planted his handmade cross in the garden next to Jesus’s cross.

After that, I ran about getting supplies and things ready for the Easter Vigil youth event at St. Philip’s.  At 9:30pm, as Paul and I sat outside the church waiting for the other leaders to arrive, I paused to enjoy the night sky and just sit in the quiet space before we were busy again.  I knew that this was the last leg of the Easter Week Marathon and if I could just stay awake for another 17 hours…. I’d be able to get home to my bed and sleep and relax for a full day since Paul and I had Easter Monday off from work!

Soon enough, the leaders arrived and soon after that the young people too.  Throughout the night we were busy with craft projects, acting, faith discussions, games and finished up with a beach campfire complete with smores!  It was a busy night, and we were so tired, but it was so worth it to see the expressions on the teenagers faces as we gathered around the campfire for the sunrise Easter service.  Yet again, these young people taught me far more than I could possibly teach them.

Two hours later, Paul was home for a nap and I was back at OSP to help with Easter Sunday Godly Play and creche time.  As I worked with another volunteer to help the children decorate Easter Eggs, I was once again struck by the beauty of the moment as we talked about the symbolism of Easter Eggs with the youngest children of our church.

Godly Play

Lent was a busy time and Holy Week was definitely the busiest yet, but in the moments when I put away the “to-do list” and stopped thinking about the details, then I finally stopped trying to minister, and instead was ministered to.  The saying I’ve heard so many times is so true -  “Let Go, and Let God.”  I really believe God did such amazing work this Easter with the children and young people we’re privileged to get to work with at both churches; and in the work God was doing for them, he also ministered to us as volunteers and leaders.  This Easter, despite the amount of work and lack of sleep, I’ve come away feeling refreshed, inspired and with renewed hope and purpose.  Thanks to God!

Happy Easter everyone!!

This weekend was pretty manic.  We stayed up all night with the church youth group we volunteer for at their annual Easter Vigil.   Much coffee and chocolate was consumed and we rounded the night off nicely with a wee campfire and S’mores - afterwhich I found myself with severe sugar shock…

…so a couple of hours kip later I decided to head back out to Portobello, near Edinburgh to join a Sunday afternoon folk session. 

I’d been humming and hawing about this for weeks now.  I’m pretty comfortable playing in the bedroom but out in public is a whole other story.  After walking into the Dalriada pub and hearing the quality of the musicians at the table I almost turned heel and walked straight back out the door.  There was a banjo player playing three finger style who may have given Scruggs himself a run for his money, a fiddle player, three guitarist/singers, a lefty switching between guitar and clawhammer banjo and me with my ukulele and trusty banjo.

Me - “Any chance I can sit in?  I’m not that good so please be gentle”
Fiddle Player - “Aye, but y’ell hae tae gie us a song”
Me - “Oh Dear” (actually it was a more profane reply but like I said; I’d been up all night)

So off they went, and I tried to keep up.  And they were relatively gentle.  I have to confess chickening out of a couple of solo breaks after a nod came in my direction and I’ve got a world of stuff to learn but it was such a buzz to be playing with proper musicians who seemed so comfortable as to be part of the furniture. 

I don’t know if it was because it was Easter Sunday or because it was such a lovely day but the place was rammed and it was amazing hearing a hundred-odd folks singing along to the likes of “Whiskey in the Jar” and “I’ll Fly Away” as well as some of the Scottish classics too.  The three hours flew by!

Now I’m going to get my “learn on” and prepare for the next session.  Sorry Mish - Better get some earplugs!

I got some really nice comments from folks all over the world on the last youtube vid I put up after the Costello’s linked to it over on their tangiersound blog.   Encouraged by all the nice things folks were saying I put another couple of tunes up.

First up, a banjo tune called Sandy River Belle…

…and here’s one of me singing along to Who’s Gonna Shoe and completely ballsing up the tune.  Hey ho…

After both of us had a pretty crappy day at work, mish and I decided to make our own ice cream sundaes to cheer us up…

… I think we went a bit overboard but it was totally worth it.  I can’t wait until we go back to Boston and visit Cabots.  Woo!

I’ve decided to chart my adventures in folk (and other sorts) of music so I’ve jumped on the bandwaggon and had a go at YouTube.  I’m still working on sorting the quality so please bear with me. Here’s me frailing a couple of Scottish classics: Scotland the Brave and Loch Lomond.

mom, dad and I

We’ve been back in Edinburgh for just over a week and it’s almost like we never left - we just fell right back into work and the regular routine.  It’s only now that I’m posting up our trip photos on flickr that I’m realising just how quickly our time at home went and just how much I already miss my family.  I absolutely love living in Edinburgh and am thrilled to be building a life here with Broon and my amazing in-laws, but it’s so hard to say goodbye to my family whenever we’re returning to Scotland.  Two weeks a year with my family is just too short a time… if only the ocean was smaller.  Check out our photos page for loads more Fawcett family photos from the trip home.