Diary date 27th March 2010

Sunny day, but Chilly Wind. Off to supermarket(yawn). Two is busy stocking up on dates and bananas (yawn), while I ferret about in the candle and bric a brac section to alleviate boredom. Eventually finish shop and head home. Check e-mails and discover daughter-in-law near Geneva has popped another of my tracks onto YouTube. Very excited again, and immediately have a look. The track is called 'The Inebriate Wife', and she has cleverly manipulated the video bit so it goes all wibbly and wobbly in manner of intoxicated object. Am very impressed.

As evening approaches I begin to wonder what to wear for 'Night at Pub'. Have discovered is singer tonight, Steven Shane, or is it Shane Steven? Anyway am assured is very good. Try on little black number from charity shop, and seems okay. Unfortunately reveals ruched arms and need to wear cardigan or similar. Try wrap-around thingy, and seems to work. Apply polyfilla etc. etc. and eventually wander downstairs where Two is chuckling at something on TV. Completely ignores me, which is par for the course. I usually ask him to confirm I am not looking mutton dressed as lamb, but have decided his opinion is not on the whole to be trusted. Check appearance in mirror and discover dress has poked up into hump effect at the back, which is never a good look. Pull dress down, but immediately I move the hump re-appears. Seems to be copious amount of material in back of dress. Must have narrow back as well as narrow head. Decide to change as even I am a little too young for Dowagers Hump. Put on straight skirt and white top. Is better. Teeter over to pub etc.....

Settle at bar waiting for show to start, when two people across the room start waving at me wildly. Without my glasses am unable to make out their faces, little more than distant blur in fact, but decide best option to wave wildly back. The husband from Wildly Waving Pair comes up to bar and says to me 'Hello Melanie'. 'I'm not Melanie' I say. He seems so sure, I am tempted to Be Melanie for him, but feel this will certainly cause even greater confusion. He is peering at me closely, and I have distinct feeling have fallen down rabbit hole. 'Oh God no' he suddenly says, 'You're not Melanie. She's not Melanie' he shouts across to his wife. Jane, behind the bar is nonplussed, as indeed are we. 'You're the spitting image of her' the man goes on, 'Honestly, you have a double'. After apologising again, he retreats and I left wondering, who is Melanie. Will she come in? Will she be younger than me, or what is more likely, much older? Spend evening waiting in trepidation for arrival of doppelganger, who sadly (or not) fails to materialise.

After all this excitement, the singer swings into action with medley of songs from fifties and sixties. He will, he informs us, cover all the decades in course of evenings entertainment. Sadly the pub is nowhere near as busy as last Saturday, but the two rather prim looking ladies who always arrive and imbibe two glasses of white wine each, are esconced in corner, and begin their lip-synching, prior to more uninhibited swaying as the alcohol kicks in. Singer is good, and begins to circumnavigate room. Approaches me (always in the line of fire), and thrusts microphone in my face to sing chorus. Recoil and this gets a laugh, but secretly wish had amazing voice and could dumbfound everyone with thrilling solo. Alas have not got amazing voice, so sing-a-long quietly like everyone else.

By midnight, as always, a few more people have drifted in, and the singer is encouraging people to Get Up and Dance. I am always itching to dance, but relucant to be The First On the Floor. Jane the barmaid is obviously hatching plan to get me up and dancing, (worrying thought, am I dancing buffoon?). There is a chap at the bar called Trevor, who is a regular, and is also obviously itching to dance. Two is neither an extrovert, nor a dancer, and never shows the slightest inclination to Get Up and Leap About. Jane suddenly makes executive decision and pushes rug on floor out of the way. 'Come on Val, come on Trevor' she shouts, and There is No Escape. Trevor and I take centre stage to 'Johnny Be Good', which is extremely fast. Jiving with comparative stranger is no easy thing. You never know when they are going to twiddle you round, or suddenly twirl you underarm and back again. I do my best, but one of my shoes with vertiginous heels is losing the slingback bit, and I have nightmare vision of crashing to ground in heap of broken brittle bones. Somehow we manage to get through number, (actually I enjoyed it), and then launch ourselves into second jive routine, again at breakneck speed. Trevor thanks me in gentlemanly fashion, and I totter back to chair, thankful at least to be in one piece.

Amazing really, pub is microcosm of life in Derbyshire Dales. The people are Very Friendly, Good Natured, and Intent Upon Having Fun. Good for them. If have to be dancing buffoon somewhere, here will do nicely.

Home at 1 am. Remember to put clocks forward and retire to bed. Back is aching a bit, but soon fall asleep to strains of 'Johnny Be Good' in sub-conscious.