wow. just wow.
I was the little girl sitting under the bar at the Plough for so many sessions...
My father was Jack Whyte, a musician and poet and friend to Peter.
One of my earliest memories is of Peter at our house for dinner, bored kids at the table, and Peter taking a bowl of mashed potatoes and turning it over on his head.
we were no longer bored...
I am a writer and working on a small book- for children, which covers the scene from a small persons perspective. Reading your memories and stories is a tremendous thing- you back up my memory, I didn't make it up!
Margret Barry really was at our kitchen table drinking tea out of a giant soup bowl...
and so much more. Thank you. I am so privileged to have grown up with this music, this ethos.
and thank you to Davey O'Doherty (sp?) for teaching me tunes when all I had was the white plastic recorder I stole from third grade music class....the Butterfly and the Battering Ram will be forever in my fingers...