Them Mousehole Men

The church in Paul

 I was beginning to think the chapter in my traveling life entitled "Mousehole Male Voice Choir" was about to close. This felt sad because I like them so much. They are altogether a different kettle of fish than your church type of choir. First, they come to rehearsal with a Cornishman's full head of silver hair. How they achieve this I may never know (do you know?), but it is noticeable to the people who are lucky enough to be in the same room with them. It's a real Wow factor, as Simon Cowell would say.

Their voices range from deep bass to high soprano, and under the direction of Steven, they are guaranteed to give listeners the chills. But the Mousehole men themselves do not call attention to it. They just sing, and then laugh in between songs. They don't seem to have a noticeable 'ego' factor. It's sweet.

Over the years I have been given lifts to MMVC rehearsals faithfully by the Mousehole men. These rides were as good as the practices themselves. You get to catch up on the various members, and these catch-up sessions are great fun. Pure laughter to the church in Paul, and then back again. 

(I have tried to include a video of the men singing, but this is proving not to work for me right now. I'll keep working on that tomorrow!)

But lately, due to their health issues and family needs, I was not finding myself heading up the hill to Paul. Until now! Now, I am excited to announce that tonight I get to ride up that hill once again. I won't forget my blanket because the church in Paul is a COLD place, and once you get cold, it's hard getting un-cold. There will be other folks there to listen as well, some whom I will recognize from years past. I hope I get to see the elder gentleman who takes a bus from central Cornwall (25 miles) which has a very complicated set of stops and bus changes. He has to leave the rehearsal before it is over because he must catch the last bus. He doesn't care, though, because getting to hear the choir is worth any struggle.

It will be terrific climbing back in the car of the kind man who is happy to pick me up, and will never let me pay for petrol. I always hand it over and he always politely declines. Sweet!

I promise to take pictures for you, and pick up as much 'news' as I can. Not gossipy news, though, because they aren't like that. They are a family, and share like families do. 

But mostly, I am eager to hear the opening chord of the first song of the evening. I don't know what song it will be, but I can guarantee that there will be goose bumps.

See you along the way!

the SconeLady