And a Wassailing We Will Go..

We sang this...

Our little song honoured the lovely apple trees in Harold Road Garden, including the splendid specimen donated by Blackmoor Estate on Apple Day: we'll be expecting hatfuls and bagfuls and barn floors of apples in summer.  A little bit of Wassail Punch and soggy toast at the foot of each tree followed by a communal sup from the Wassailing Bowl all helped combat the winter chill.  The brew was a mysterious punch made of baked apples, ale, sugar, Christmas spices and just a dash of Pimms. Afterwards we sang our song, and no-one seemed to mind, certainly not the Police Station next door.

Thanks to everyone who came and to Bethany who taught us a Cornish Wassailing Carol, lyrics courtesy of her smart phonb, and her friend, David who accompanied our dowsing with his melodeon.

Here's Bethany's version.

1. Wassail! wassail! all over the town,
Our toast it is white and our ale it is brown;
Our bowl it is made of the white maple tree;
With the wassailing bowl¹, we'll drink to thee.

2. Here's to our horse, and to his right ear,
God send our master a happy new year:
A happy new year as e'er he did see,
With my wassailing bowl I drink to thee.

3. So here is to Cherry and to his right cheek
Pray God send our master a good piece of beef
And a good piece of beef that may we all see
With the wassailing bowl, we'll drink to thee.

4. Here's to our mare, and to her right eye,
God send our mistress a good Christmas pie;
A good Christmas pie as e'er I did see,
With my wassailing bowl I drink to thee.

Just a taster - there are ten verses... 

Next year, we'll have a choir, our own bowl made of white maple, and we'll be wassailing all over the town.  Watch out!