The nice thing about being married to a musician is that I get to be a groupie by proxy. So, when hubby and Mr. F. booked themselves a gig in Oxford, I duly followed... with my folks and his folks... and as many friends as we could rustle up.
It wasn't certain whether they would get to play at all after the chappy who had arranged the evening had "accidentally" quadruple booked them. It was a bit of a rush to shorten the song list and there was a moment of mayhem when we reallised they were about to go onstage minus Mr. F. who had gone in search of food. Order was eventually resumed.
It was a rather lovely evening out, apart from Dad C. having his camera stolen by a rather dodgy taxi driver.