MUSIC, MUSIC, MUSIC!I’m travelling back in time quite a lot these days. Lockdown and isolating gives me a lot of time to do this. Just for a moment I travelled sixty-four years into the distant past and found myself watching Mrs. Cheshire hand out booklets and turn the big radio on.It was a music lesson! Not just any music lesson but a BBC music lesson. “Hello Children” said a pretty feminine voice, and she ran through the words to “Boney was a Warrior”. We were instructed to open the booklet at a certain page. Then we were encouraged by the voice to sing along. None of the songs were difficult (well not for me, some members of my family always seemed to be singing or humming). When the song had been sung all the way through, with encouragement from the radio presenter, the lesson ended.I can never remember whether it was a lesson called ‘Singing Together’ or another one called ‘Rhythm and Melody’, but both gave me a love of singing or as some tone deaf people call it CROAKING!I can still recall ‘Michael Finnegan’ and ‘The Lonely Ash Grove’. On my first return home I found that my sister Helen was learning the recorder and knew ‘The Lonely Ash Grove’, and we would sit together on the back doorstep, she playing and me singing. Until our next-door neighbour started clapping and we both died of embarrassment at being heard.Music lessons suddenly seemed to stop… but then I was on ‘O’ ward and found music again from the radio. Burl Ives, Max Bygraves, and of course Elvis Presley. Unsurprisingly the ward sister hated Elvis and I remember her getting really irate if I sang ‘Clementine’, which she thought was vulgar! I of course loved it.The end of term songs were the best.....anyone care to remind me of some others? I can’t write the music down but two of them were as follows.We’ll make a bonfire of this HeritageAnd we’ll watch it fade awayWe’ll be jolly glad to be rid of itAnd we’ll shout hip hip hoorayOr this oneThis time next yearWhere will I beOut of this valeOf misery.No more dirtyBread and butterNo more water fromThe gutter.No more spidersIn my bathTrying their hardestTo make me laugh.If the matronInterferesKnock her downAnd box her ears.Oh, memories, don’t you just love them, especially when they pop into your mind and onto your vocal cords and out of your mouth!