SOME things are timeless, and so it was when we enjoyed a convivial evening of poetry, prose and music put on by the Medstead Players.

The cosy format of getting together round a piano has been used for generations, and long may it continue to be so.

You will have guessed by the title that the theme was winter and there was a degree of chronology to proceedings as we were moved along toward that darkest time of year. After Tom Hood’s amusing but somewhat negative take on all the “NOs” in November, things were soon brightened by a child’s thoughts on fireworks, complete with accompanying sound effects.

Very realistic, but with no bangers and guaranteed not to frighten horses or children.

There were recollections from the old days which some among us could wistfully relate to. The high point of the evening for me was the inside story on Wenceslas, by his page. What the history books didn’t tell us!

I was surprised by a song from the Lloyd-Webber/Rice partnership that was hitherto completely unknown to me. Joyce Grenfell’s unique style raised many a laugh as we recalled our own little dears in their school Nativity plays.

The Twelve Days of Christmas made complete sense to me. I’ve always thought that the gifts were the strangest of love tokens and utterly impractical.

The evening was rounded off by us all joining together to sing a few carols.

There was too much content for it all to get a mention here but the familiarity of much of it was what made this a comforting and most enjoyable evening with friends.

Jill Lake