Mrs The Millbrooker, Lizzie and I wandered down to listen to some groovy sounds and, needless to say, weren't disappointed. The band enjoyed themselves in front of a small but select audience as they messed about with impromptu key changes and general musical silliness (a speciality of Tony's, and one you need genuine talent to be able to carry off).
Chatting to Richard Crane (double bass), he's pleased to have finally sold the hardware shop in West Street and is going to be incredibly busy with his boat building and repair "sideline". There's a touch of local gossip for you. Apparently the new shop owner has a background in hotel management; perhaps the hardware shop will be doing full English breakfasts as an extra with each tin of paint or crabpot.
The evening wasn't a hugely boozy one, although we did help Russell and Mark's turnover (ooh-er Mrs) somewhat with a few little drinkies. Mrs The Millbrooker, however, is off the alcohol at the moment as part of a healthy regime. Note the Millbrooker's tankard which was filled on several occasions with Betty Stoggs' ale next to Mrs The Millbrooker's likkle glass of slimline tonic with ice and slice topped up with soda.
To be fair, yours truly is also trying to cut down in a effort to shed a few pounds from my middle before Christmas; last night didn't help - but I can't bring myself to go into a pub which serves lovely ale and not have some. It would seem that Frankenkeith enjoys the same minor problem.
Frankenkeith joined us for the later part of the evening and was very impressed by the standard of musicianship on display. He'd actually only turned up to "..hear Lizzie sing", but she wasn't up to it because she's full of cold at the moment and has a throat like a lumberjack's welly: full of sawdust and nasty things.
So, there you go, another great evening's entertainment and too few people supporting a regular feast of good music and bonhomie. Go on, try it next week, you might like it. You know you want to.