Sarah the flute, you are right on the button.

For apprentice callers, the main problem is not learning the figures for a few dances and then fitting them to some appropriate tunes which your band of the night also happens to know – anyone can get that out of a book.

The real problems begin when you try to organise a walk-through with a crowd of hyped-up six-year olds who have got ten-second attention spans, don't know right from left or up from down, can't count beyond two, and have no idea what "ladies" or "gentlemen" are. (Not that the last point really matters, since they all want to dance with their best friends, who – quite naturally at that age - are of the same gender as themselves.)

Just for a change, you could try organising a walk-through at a wedding ceilidh where most of the adults are so inebriated that they also have ten-second attention spans, don't know right from left or up from down, can't count beyond two, and have no idea about how "ladies" or "gentlemen" ought to behave on a dance floor.

Alternatively, just try coaxing a viable group of dancers on to the floor at some function where one of the organisers thought it might be a nice idea to have a ceilidh - but where the vast majority of the guests have never been to a ceilidh before, and have now decided that they don't much fancy it.

Working out how to cope with all this – and much, much more – is an essential part of the caller's learning curve. But it can be done. There are strategies for getting a ceilidh going, even in what may seem to be very unpromising circumstances. As Mr Kipling said: "If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs, and blaming it on you…" then you have the makings of a caller in you.

Wassail!