Humphrey B Bear's rightful address

On Sunday Sapphire had her music teacher's student concert at a location which sounds as though it really should be the address of a non-threatening, cute (and mercifully mute) children's entertainer like Humphrey B Bear - Cudlee Creek.

This is not to be confused with another cute-sounding place located in Victoria - Dingley Village; which might in fact be better suited to providing employment and lodgings to failed reality TV show contestants or retired university administrators. However, at Cudlee Creek tavern yesterday, they were clearly happy to put up with Coopers Brewery mis-spelling their name as 'Cuddly Creek' in order to score a free blackboard.

It's the kind of pub that reminds me of the very few meals we ate out in a 'restaurant' as a family in the 1970s - maroon velvet and white lace curtains, some home-made Copper-beaten ships on the walls, plastic flower arrangements, wood panelling and ceiling beams and oval plates made for buffets and clumsy dishwashers. In my family's case, it was the Murray Bridge Golf Club when Dad scored a hole in one. "Chicken Maryland and fruit punch number FORTY TWO!" Doreen would yell across the stained axminster and pool tables towards the Countdown-style cane chairs and tables. It was where I saw my year three teacher Miss Ruys light up a cigarette, smoke it and kiss her boyfriend. Heady times indeed....

Back to Cuddlee Creek. Love Chunks and I decided to suspend our natural Spelling Police duties ala the blackboard and enjoy the concert. The first half was to commence before a buffet lunch and carvery with the second half after dessert. Poor Sapphire's nerves were frayed enough for her to reject her usually-loved fresh bread rolls, soup and salads for a few wilted peas and chopped carrots.

Her music teacher, Daniel, kicked off the concert, reminding me yet again of a wizard wearing a batik shirt instead of a rock band member and hobby farmer from the hills.

Being third-to-last on a musical programme that was featuring such performances as Hava Nagila played on keyboards by a six year old, a fetching Hungarian rhapsody on the accordian by an eleven year old, This is Teen Spirit on electric guitar by a nine year old and a thirteen year old's own composition on synthesiser immediately following his version of I yi-yi-y (Clelito Lindo), Sapphire was fidgety but quiet.

Soon enough though the buffet (featuring a limp carvery, ancient warmed-again potatoes and beetroot right out of the tin) was cleared for freshly-thawed out cheesecake and Christmas pudding and a pavlova straight outta the box slathered in cream.

Then, she was on, for her first of three items. 'Can You Feel The Love Tonight' on guitar:

...followed by Hark the Herald Angels Sing on recorder.....

..... and what should have been 'Jingle Bells' sung by Kirsten with Sapph's backing on the recorder but ended up being just Sapph and a red-faced and silent Kirsten hiding behind the music stand instead.

All were played so beautifully that it's almost impossible to write how much it made my heart actually hurt - yes hurt or ache - with pride, love, amazement, indigestion from the dodgy lamb carvery - however you want to describe it. As Daniel said after she left the stage (actually just the stickiest patch of carpet in front of the blackboard), "Half of my students are adults, but not one of them had the guts to get up here today and perform."

And yes he was staring straight at Love Chunks, who blushed, fumbled and somehow dropped and smashed his glass of sparkling shiraz and earned a disapproving look from the waitress for damaging elderly hotel property.

To be honest, he was just trying to set the tone for the adult entertainment about to start - Daniel's rock band, The Crush. They were bloody good too - he added that extra 'oomph' on keyboards and I found myself singing along lustily, jiggling Sapphire on my knee: "Don't change a thing for me...."

However it had been a l-o-n-g while since I've been to a live gig, and certainly not at 4pm on a Sunday afternoon and not whilst drinking diet coke and cappuccino with a recorder nearby in case the melody grabbed me....

....and most certainly not with a nine year old who eventually succumbed to a post-performance stomach ache and wanted to go home, have a shower and play with her Beanie kids.