The Toybox in Bounds Green

Katy texted me yesterday afternoon, 'Can you come to Robert's night in Bounds Green?'
'Why not?' I thought, even though I was tired. We were about to write a song in the Songlab.
After whizzing home for a plate of pasta, I slung the axe into the vehicle (the evening axe; the daytime one was back home) and took off to the Ranelagh Arms, where there was a boisterous crowd listening to a man playing a red ukelele. The night is called the Toybox, and is a night of music, poetry and other stuff. Robert apologised for the low microphone volume 'He hasn't got a very nice voice', he whispered.
Katy was full of energy and was sporting an enameled bird badge a bit like mine; I'd missed her set but we threw ourselves into the proceedings anyay.
The next act was Simply Grey, Robert's Uncle Lawrence who gave him his first ever guitar, and his mate. They played a stormin' grey-haired set of Chuck Berry covers and the like, and got everyone up dancing; a tall Tibetan-looking chap with a hat sat calmly playing drums in the background. The stage area was crowded with instruments and leads, and people sat at the back tucking into huge plates with potatoes, gravy and other filling-looking stuff. It was a bit like a big, wild, living room.
When I got the Gretsch out, Robert's uncle Lawrence had to come over and talk nerdy-talk for a while; his Country Gentleman was in a case at the back of the stage but we couldn't get to it, as it was hemmed in by a keyboard, mixing desk, sundry leads and Robert.
I played a little set: Bad Day, Memento Mori (which the crowd seemed to really like) Heaven Avenue (with Robert on drums, Katy on BVs and the drummer chap on tambourine), and Love on the Wind. It was the Wild West, like Offline used to be at the Dogstar, but fun, and a really good ending to a day when nothing went wrong, unexpectedly.