Day 1: The Wombles – Wombling Songs

 

A disc a day, I said, and they will be roughly in chronological order (of when they came into my possession) so I’m starting today with the mighty Wombles. This is the first of the Wombles’ albums (1973) and I got it at some point in the mid 1970s. The Wombles, for those not acquainted with these fluffy critters, started life in children’s books – six written by Elisabeth Beresford and the first of those published in 1968. Apparently, the writer’s children misnamed Wimbledon Common one day and thus the Wombles were born. They live in burrows, collect rubbish from the Common and, as the theme tune has it, they make “good use of the things that we find, things that the everyday folk leave behind.” They were very ahead of their time.

 

I did have at least one of the books as a child but I came to it all via the TV show. Growing up in England in the early 1970s, kids’ TV on weekdays was mainly on around lunchtime and just before tea/the early evening news. In particular the last thing on before the evening news (on BBC1) was one of various animated series of short progammes (about 5 mins per episode) and these included such delights as The Magic Roundabout, Ivor the Engine, Paddington and, starting in 1973, The Wombles (head here for episode 1). Ivor Wood animated the first series and directed The Wombles as well as The Magic Roundabout, The Herbs and Paddington. Oh my, how I adored that Paddington series (narrated by Michael Hordern). It’s probably one reason I’ve never really fallen for the new Paddington films.

 

I loved the stop-motion Wombles of this era too though – their atlas names (Great Uncle Bulgaria, Tomsk etc.), their tiny adventures and the irresistible voice of the great Bernard Cribbins (1928-2022) who told us all their TV stories. Cribbins was a big feature of a 1970s child’s life (he shows up in classics like 1970's The Railway Children film, he was in some Carry Ons and so many other things) and his narration was a big part of the Womble appeal. The theme tune (The Wombling Song) was also one of the catchier TV theme tunes of that era and is definitely what we’d now call an earworm. 

 

The person responsible for the Wombles music is Mike Batt, a songwriter, musician and producer who’s been involved in all kinds of genres. He wrote Bright Eyes, for example, the Watership Down song that had Art Garfunkel at the top of the charts in 1979 for what seemed like forever (apparently it was actually only number 1 for six weeks but that’s a long time when you’re 12 and don’t like a song, and I didn’t). In the 1980s, as well as his own solo music, Batt also co-wrote the title song to The Phantom of the Opera (can’t stand it, how about you?) as well as songs for the likes of David Essex, Cliff Richard and Alvin Stardust (I mean...). I’m not going to list everything he’s ever done (that would take a while and you can read Wikipedia yourself). He has relaunched the Wombles at least once, as has TV, but there are quite enough reboots in the world, wouldn’t you say? And nothing beats a 1970s Womble.

 

As for this particular piece of vinyl, it was definitely a Xmas present. I have two older brothers who lived in my immediate family around then (older sisters were elsewhere being adults) and for some years in the 1970s vinyl albums were the main Xmas present in both directions between those brothers and me (generally bought in WH Smiths, Boots or Woolworths, they cost something like £3 each). I seem to remember one year (it must have been 1975) getting both this and 1975’s Superwombling (one album from each brother). Whether the brothers actually went out and bought the Wombles or Abba or whatever other 1970s delights I was after (or whether it was our Mum doing the shopping) I have no idea. So many things are blurred by this point, some were never clear. 

 

The Superwombling album is no longer on our shelves, but Wombling Songs is still here and it contains such nuggets as Madame Cholet (she was the only female Womble of this era, an icon), Dreaming in the Sun (Orinoco’s Song) and Exercise is Good for You (Laziness is Not) – things were a little more direct in the 1970s. Orinoco was the ‘lazy’ womble (and probably the most popular), hence the song, but I had a soft spot for Bungo, not sure why.

 

Anyway, that’s my first Disc A Day. There’s been very little planning for this month’s series so I’m not even sure what I’m choosing for tomorrow. Edge of seat stuff.

For the first intro post to this series go here. It has links to previous January projects (music, poems, stories etc.).

Disc A Day, coming your way

 

Since moving to Dundee a few years back I’ve really enjoyed the January activity of Fun A Day (doing something loosely creative every day in January, posting it online if you fancy it). In particular it prodded me to do some new writing – sometimes poems, sometimes prose, a lot of auto and other biography (which I think is a lot to do with getting older and wondering how long my actual memory will keep working). I took part in the Dundee version of FAD in 2020, 2021 and 2022 and in fact I enjoyed it so much I even did a bonus one for myself in December 2022. Then in 2023 there was no Fun A Day Dundee and it’s the same again for January 2024 so I decided I would just get on and do something myself this year. 
 
So welcome to (drum roll, please): Disc A Day. It’s pretty simple – I will be posting a record cover a day for all of January (in this case the larger ones, album covers and 12” singles). Music has always been a key part of my life and records were early friends. I loved listening to all the music my older siblings (and, to a lesser extent, parents) left lying around the house. I’ve listened to a lot of music radio and then was a (pirate) radio and club DJ in the 1990s so I still have a few records kicking about the place (as does my partner, he was in a techno band, collects the odd record himself). I have a couple of work commitments just now but I might still try to write something about this month’s records here and there. I’m interested partly in why I’ve kept some records and not others as I’ve pared the collection down over the years and house moves. Record covers fit nicely on the Instagram square so I will post them there and I’ll add them here on the blog too, for record, as it were. I might do the odd round-up on other places and I might even use a hashtag. #DiscADay2024 anyone?

 
See you for the first record tomorrow. Join in if you like…
 
 
 

My previous Fun A Day (and related) projects start here for January 2020 (art/music), here for January 2021 (poems, autobiography), here for January 2022 (music/interviews) and here for December 2022 (TV/Strictly/family biography).

Just a poem

Compression

 

If time is short

then make it good.

Let mornings break

to golden sun

and tea in bed,

each moment held,

but gently.

 

Let days stroll by,

with traffic light,

path to the beach,

sand to the sea.

As hours rest

let breeze blow soft

around you.

 

Hear kettles boil,

see windows steam,

bread cut just right,

a perfect slice.

The oven hot,  

may cakes all rise 

to attention.

 

May each night fall

happier still

than the one before.

Let loved ones come,

hold hands, belong,

sleep be your friend,

forever.

 

RF 2023 (to hear it try the video below)

From the waist down

Pic: A pair of old sandals on gravel

 

After a bit of a break I have been reading some poems out and about recently. It’s just a small weekly night, organised by a friend, and it’s mostly a music night (absolutely my favourite kind of thing – very relaxed, some experienced players, some newbies, no one else who calls themselves a poet). I’ve even been singing a little bit (but let’s not talk about that right now – I have poem about my singing called Croak by croak that you can find at the bottom of this page).

 

A friend mentioned that she didn’t know the poems I read last night and I realised at least one of them didn’t make it to the internet (at least I don’t think so). This poem is one I wrote after a weekend boating trip Mark and I took on Loch Ness in 2021 (pics below from the trip). On the second day a white-tailed sea eagle flew over us while we were in the middle of the loch (with pretty much no one else as far as our eyes could see, Mark got a photo on his more serious camera). Poor thing was just getting lunch, didn’t know poetry was afoot. Audio of the poem here.

Pic: A camera screen with a photo of a white-tailed sea eagle

 

Sea legs

 

So much to escape,

I can see the appeal

as we bounce away

on waves and swell,

leave land’s tough rind

for alternative time.

 

Some swoosh on by,

we chug, chug, chug,

small craft, huge loch,

we laugh and bob,

our eyes need help,

our legs adjust.

 

As we practise knots

on our little adventure,

giant wings above

might seem to mock – 

white-tailed sea eagle,

a lesson in flight.

 

It crosses the loch

in a handful of beats,

the water is wide

but the bird is too,

it scoops a snack,

then it swoops on back.

RF 2021

 

 

 Pic: Entering Loch Ness, view of clouds and water and hills from a motor boat

Some of you might recognise the phrase ‘the water is wide’ in that poem as it is the title and part of a folk song (sung by many well-known 20^th century artists too). I first heard it at Montrose Folk Club sung by Judy Dinning and the band Real Time (I wrote about Judy for another project back here). Looking at the poem persuaded me to have a go at singing The Water is Wide this week. I don’t sing it as well as Judy (here she is, with Real Time, performing it) but I enjoyed the attempt. Another of the participants nudged me to “just dive in” as I stalled a little before starting, wondering if warbling in public was really a good idea. It was a very apt comment and it helped no end.

 

The other poem I read last night is one that has had much more attention than most of mine. It’s a love poem called Don’t squeeze my shoes and it’s been used in weddings (and is even on wedding websites like this one – check me alongside Bob Dylan and Winnie the Pooh as options for your special day). It’s not my favourite poem of mine by some stretch but we can’t control what flies and what doesn’t – here is my post about it on my old blog (including the poem). The title is a phrase used in the TV show NYPD Blue that Mark and I used to watch years ago (and of course we used to repeat the phrase in terrible NY accents…).

 

Anyway, may your feet be comfy, as often as possible. Until next time.

 

I went to Orkney Folk Festival and I saw...

 

I went to Orkney Folk Festival and I saw… 

(audio version here)

 

 

1 

 

The macaroni pie

of a woman to my right

held halfway 

between plate and bite.

 

A voice ringing out

as a spell was spun,

hunger had to wait

till the song was done.

 

 

2 

 

Afternoon shows

with a coach trip air,

coats on, zips up,

nothing too bare.

 

But later at the Stomp,

feet firm, arms bright,

the strappiest tops,

young blood, all night.

 

 

3 

 

It wasn’t quite a circle,

more of a line,

four lovely singers

sitting in a shrine.

 

They played old colours

and they tried out new.

They left us charmed,

anything but blue.

 

 

4

 

A walk by the point,

brave tents in the roar,

singers swimming wild,

more golf than war.

 

Runners with dogs,

fiddles and feet,

we all headed down

to the prettiest street.

 

 

5 

 

Singers all around us,

perfect lullabies,

singers in the jumper shop,

looking for their size.

 

Singers with jetlag,

looking for calm,

singers with toddlers,

looking for an arm.

6

 

Midnight at the club, 

and a song for a dad,

a story I don’t know,

not a life I've had.

 

But the woman to my left,

was an open gate,

tears flooded fast,

it was hot, it was late.

 

 

7

 

For a change, Sunday morning,

squeezed in a pew,

for poets and pianos,

and a choir came too.

 

Light poured in

as the songs soared high,

it’s not about angels,

more about sky.

 

 

8

 

The boat on Monday,

tired goodbyes,

memories in phones,

smiles, heavy sighs.

 

And the session carried on

as we sailed away,

tunes for dreams

at the end of the day.

RF 2023