My Nonny’s Dead. Tolerable Folk Music Part 3: Anne Briggs.

In my house, Anne Briggs is the aural equivalent of Marmite. Which, in itself, is unusual because mostly, even though the three of us currently living here have differing tastes in music with some overlap, mostly we’re not inclined to get too uppity about each others’ tastes that don’t tally with our own. Well, that’s…

This Be The Curse. Or, We (Don’t) Mean It, Maaaan.

First things first: I’ve realised that my waffling has been getting worse, not better.  When I first pressed what WordPress laughingly call the “publish” button, it was about 12,000 words long.  About “normal” for me these days. And I got sick of reading it.  As it was about my big deal, I thought I’d have a…