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It's been quite a week for schedule suspension and magical moments...
I'm going to come back to this image of the new fountain in Frome promptly hijacked by the Frome-illuminati for human sacrifice,
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because the excitement disrupting my working week began last Friday when a busload from Frome, driven by daring Dave, headed to Bristol's
Thunderbolt to hear fabulous
Captain Cactus band and his amazing and gorgeous
Screaming Harlots. Good support too - awesome steel guitar from
Luke Philbrick and a great atmosphere at the venue.
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Next night was David Goodman's party at the
23 Bath Street, which has become such a terrific venue since Lark and Toby have taken in over. Lovely to see so very many friends and the
Raggedy Men punk set was a memorable highlight... I think their version of
No More Heroes - with what seemed like a hundred of the partygoers joining in - is likely to be the defining moment of this year for me...
Nunney Acoustic Cafe on Sunday afternoon always has a great range of performers: this time featured band
Sloe Jam and others including a wonderful
gypsy duo, the superb
Splat the Rat from Swindon and some talented younger musicians like Maia Fry and ever-impressive
Archie Ttwheam.
(Sorry Archie, I see you are Otto Wilde now but as that comes up on google as a steak grill manufacturer, I'm sticking to the name I first knew...)
Tuesday was the
Frome Writers Collective social evening, this time with an engrossing talk from Lisa Kenrick who runs
Mr Rook's Speak Easy story-telling sessions in Frome. Lisa demonstrated how to grip an audience with a vivid and visceral version of the tale Frome's medieval rake Edward Leversage, and then gave advice on constructing and telling such tales, and also how to find inspiration and where to go for further guidance.
And then with no Roots session this week I really really should have dedicated the rest of my time to the project.... about which you patient blog readers have heard so much & seen so little. Instead I was lured by the witchery & wizardry of
Rare Species to follow them around Frome on a tour of secret signs of the Fecund Coming...
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Starting at the spring below the church steps and prowling the area nearby, Virginia Faggus and Gerald Terd held forth on much historical detail we might not know - how the young blades used the well to spread fecundity, how merchants sailed back and forth along the leat, and the fact that the
Three Swans name came from the Leda legend in a little-known love-triangle version... at the church door Virginia expounded an alternative-and-weirdly-true-sounding tale of Vicar Bennett's activities in Frome, invited here by the Fromenati to create a hotbed of hedonism. It was at this point Virginia began to show somewhat alarming symptoms of some kind of demonic invasion. Gerald ploughed on, taking us up Poldark's Passage ('
Aiden would suckle on my unctuous paps' Virginia reminisced, a bit of a non sequitor as Gerald was talking about unsolved murders at the time.)
We headed across Bath Street as the running commentaries continued, with Gerald now on the look-out for tell-tale evidence of the secret society of the Fromenati. He found a tunnel opening they may have used to burrow to their base in Babblington (the smaller ones, anyway) and a SIX-
SIX-6 sign and it wasn't till we reached Catherine Hill that things went totally bonkers. 'The epicentre' shouted Geraldine and strode on ahead waving a car away so effectively the driver actually reversed all the way down the hill as she advanced chanting
'Juicy and Divine'. Meanwhile something had gone wrong with Gerald's divining rod. By the time he had staggered and we had straggled to the bottom of the hill, Geraldine had turned into a one-eyed demon. She lassoed Gerald and made me hold him (I tried to resist honest but she had manic power) and made us all...
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I can recount no more of the shameful night I joined the illuminati-Fromenati and poor Gerald ended up on Boyle's Cross, only say:
Eat your heart out Hot Fuzz, you may have exorcised Wells but the wild energy loosed by Bennett’s burrowings below the pagan spring will empower the Fromenati forever! It was indeed the Fecund Coming.
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