A Brief Note from the current time

Here we are again. That president elect is back on the scene and I am heading back to the Jolly Bungalow , a safe haven for all that is good, and a shelter of sorts against the maelstrom. Once again, I am turning to the wisdom of my ancestors as I prepare to survive the coming years. The only way out is through.

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26 November 2024.

But you don’t live in a bungalow. What?

It’s true. I live in a log cabin and have a derelict treehouse, called The Folly, in my back garden.

The Bungalow got its start when I was celebrating the coming of the May, or Beltane, this year. It was tipping down rain outside but I was determined to have a joyous time . After a simple and heartfelt ritual, attended by my two cats, I decided to end the evening at a traditional pub sing. Sure you did…there aren’t any open pubs, and you decided to save the last bottle of cider for another occasion. Be honest.

OK, I decided to sing along with some May songs on my iPad. That’s how it really went.

I am a big fan of the Watersons. I learned most of my tiny repertoire of folk songs from a Yorkshireman, and the Watersons’ accents are how I hear the songs in my mind. I queued up Hal an Tow, and started singing along on the chorus, which begins:

Hal an tow

Jolly rumble o

We were were up

Long before the day o

traditional

In my enthusiasm for singing, I lost track of the actual words, and sung “heel and toe. Jolly bungalow.

So, here I am in the jolly bungalow, having a cosy time, sharing stories of a time when life is simpler, and dedicating my sheltering in place to enjoying what is rather than lamenting what it is not.