Wednesday, December 29, 2010

The Furry Dance

Albert calls for the Furry Dance to begin - with Listmom Yvonne as his partner at the head of the dancers!

Dydh Da, Oll -

Attention, Partygoers, the Helston Town band director is askin' that we settle the order of progression for the Flora/Furrey Dance.  Now, as I recall I was to lead with ListMom as my partner (don't give any any stuff 'bout her not bein' 'ere, she monitors this thing quite closely in case of any misbehavior), then the lovely and talented Jayne Mansfield and her partner (come on lads, don't 'ee be bashfull, step up and claim the prize).  Now speak up all of 'ee, 'o's dancin' with 'o, then?  Let us get this lined up proper.  Two-couple sets all in line.  Mind the music.  Way for the Mayor and 'is gentlemen to lead us off, then the band.  Out through doors of Coinage Hall, down Coinagehall Street, and 'way we go!  First stop for sherry and biscuits at Penhellis. definitely aged-friendly!!

Albert's maids!
Step off noon tomorrow, at local time - noon at your locale, that is.  Keep with the music and some respect for ancient tradition, please.   Ladies, dont 'ee forget the required big hats!

Albert of Anvower Mill, which is just up the way in Lowertown

The Furry Dance has begun and the parrots have arrived with Greg in tow looking tall, dark and handsome. They stopped off at Penhellis when they heard about sherry and biscuits but are quite fit for dancing now.  Jayne Mansfield is dancing with one of the 2 Royal Canadian Mounted Policemen I brought with me. Dressed in their red serge, black riding pants with a yellow stripe up the side and wearing brown boots up to the knee they are quite an attractive sight. Mistress Agnes looks interested in the other one having now recovered from being squashed.
The parrots are all togged out in their top hats, white ties and tails.
They don't dance well because they keep stopping to lean over to see
themselves in the toes of their black shiny boots. Somewhere they have found a couple of pretty Parakeets to dance with. They probably stole them our of a pub along the way.
I can see most of you dancing along and looking elegant, the music is grand, however some are still busily knitting scarves and making colourful feather boas for the Grand Ball.
Leaping Lorna the Cornish Child

Right on, then, the Furrey Dance weren't quite the shambles I feared 'twould be, with so many of 'ee bringin' in guest personas who 'ave no connection to Cornwall and dawnt even know 'ow to spell it or where 'tis.  Just as well I neglected to invite Captain Bligh this year.  'ee can be ever so fussy 'bout things bein' in proper order.  Even 'is pilferin' of supplies for the Bounty and 'avin' things re-directed to 'is 'ome were done in the customary manner of the time.  'twas considered part of a senior officer's pay packet then, d'ee see.

The lovely and talented Jayne Mansfield wishes to thank her partner in the Furrey for 'is solicitousness in not 'avin' once trod 'pon her toes.  Di'nt get 'eer name, mate, but well done, I d'say.

After the dancin', I turned to NPR to listen to Cambridge choristers and the Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols.  Someone straighten me out on this - is it still being done at the Cathedral in Truro?  I would much like to hear it as 'twas originally done there in 1880's.
Couldn't find the Truro service Albert, but here's the Cambridge full service

Anvower Mill, Lowertown
Albert of Anvower Mill  -  just up the river in Lowertown where someone really should tell my Uncle Ronnie he's been virtually hosting me this past few days

Luscious Lorna, I see you dancing with Gregory and you say you usually dance with all the men and the next thing I know you'll be dancing with Butch, as I sit sadly in the corner clutching my wallflower.  Perhaps I need a drop of Mother's Ruin brewed by Mistress Agatha and Very Great Aunt!  Oh dear me
Duchess Daft

Left, Duchess Daft needn't have worried, Butch turned up just in time to claim her for his own!

Well, there you go again, moaning and groaning. O.K. I won't dance with Butch, but if you sit there clutching a wallflower he is not likely to ask you to dance. Here is my advice: Put on your party clothes (what are you
wearing by the way, not those old boots, I hope) and then go get him!And stay away from that Mother's Ruin, you will end up getting lost again! Was it you who got mired in a gigantic mud-puddle one year or was that Connie?
The parrots are out looking for a horse and a 747 - hard to miss a 747 providing it is somewhere in Cornwall and not in some other country.  Same with the horse, it could be anywhere - what colour is it?
Lady Lorna Learning that Furrey is not spelled Furry.

Who's for getting together for song after the dancing revelry?   Marie-Gertrud and I have a few Cornish folksongs prepared which I am  sure a few at least of you will know to join in on; or any Christmas 
carol you want.  How many of you know the St. Day Carol, probably the  most widely known Cornish carol?
Party on.

Boyd R.

O.K. Boyd, you lead, start us out on The St. Day Carol, make sure there is a part for the tuba.
The parrots love singing, they like "Going Up Camborne Hill Coming Down"...They can't talk but they can sing. Well, it is not really singing, more like whistles and screeches...!
For the parrots

Lilting Lorna

PErfect!  The usual bass line in The Sans Day, or St. Day, Carol would  fit tuba just fine.  And Goin' Up C. Hill is for everybody, parrots  included.  Do they try to imitate your lilt?  If so, your description I suspect 
is not doing them justice.


Luscious Lorna:

Everything is more than OK now as there I was sitting watching Butch when along came Sundance and bowed politely and asked me to dance. Just between you and me, he ain't half bad either!  I'm not sure why the parrots are looking for a horse.  Butch hasn't lost his horse, and nor has Sundance.
We're looking for a small fluffy blue bear with one eye missing that poor little Tuck is very attached to and he lost it while following the horse when Butch was giving Mata Hari a ride and they were singing Raindrops.
Please have the parrots find Blue Bear as Old Scruff is still nursing Tuck and while he's a very kind dog he really wants to be down at the pub singing bawdy songs with his deep cigarettes-and-whiskey voice.
Have the parrots sprouted any feathers yet with all this Cornish air and stargazy pie, not to mention fish and chips?

Merry Christmas, Duchess Daft

Julia (our wonderful West Briton transcriber) posted a poem which is very apt for our over indulgence on Christmas Day, and you can hear it recited by actor Victor Buono here

1 comment:

  1. Sounds like you had quite a time at the dance.. and the big hats... a must, I'm sure!
    Happy New Year! :)