I was born and brought up in Dunedin. I have an English Mum who can sing/play piano and NZ Dad who can't carry a tune in a bucket, even supposing someone else puts it in the bucket and slams on the lid - quick.

I've always loved to sing - it might be some compensation for not being able to dance, play sports etc. Learned the old standards of There's a Hole in my Bucket, Clementine, early Seekers' songs etc in the car en route to the summer holidays as both my sister and I suffered badly from car sickness and we holidayed in Nelson! (Linda holds the family record for throwing up while still technically within sight of home - a view down from the Mt Cargill Road - but that's another story). Given that Mum was - and still is - the local church choir-mistress, I learned to hit the right notes and get my diction and phrasing right or be pinioned by a glance from the front seat of the car.

Mum's dad had retired from British Rail when I was 5 and came out to live with us - I learned all the words of the (clean) music hall and WW1 songs - Run Rabbit, Any Old Iron, My Grandfather's Clock etc etc - from him, but the tunes from Mum as she clearly didn't get her voice from her dad.

I had the usual tortuous piano lessons with the nuns while at school; then high school and the opportunity to learn something different. Wanted to learn the flute but there were only 3 at the school so ended up with a fiddle. Played it very badly - I never did get into the habit of practising - until my university days. I even made it into the Otago University orchestra - and out again just before they asked me to depart having slowly moved me to the spare seat on the back row of the third violins!

School choirs and things - as a soprano, leading the massed school choirs at the Town Hall while my best friend lead the contraltos. Subbing in for either soprano or altos when mum was short of voices for the Christmas carol service. Then I got conned into helping with the local Brownies and asked to lead the singalongs.

Someone loaned me a nylon string guitar and I tortured the entire family trying to learn chords from the chord chart - singing as I played, with some lengthy pauses in the songs as I tried to switch from one chord to another. But once I got into the swing of it - there it was; a socially acceptable instrument (which badly played violins are not) I could sing to.

My first week as a University student they had a clubs day, showing all the various clubs and sport groups you could join and there was this guy playing guitar, mandolin, something I thought was a banjo but wasn't sure (I'd seen the Black & White Minstrels) and an highly ornate bowl-backed something I subsequently learned was a bouzouki.

That was my introduction to Marcus Turner (it's all his fault!) - and within the month I was on the varsity Folk Club committee (never could keep my mouth shut in meetings) and had been dragged along and introduced to the New Edinburgh Folk Club, where all sorts of bearded personages in swandris, and long haired women in indian muslin outfits helped me to learn how to play, sing and generally perform - not to mention party up and drink whisky! The rest is just 27 years of practice.

Why do I love the folk scene?

Because it's accepting - it's the only venue where you could/can hear trad songs, irish dance music, the blues, medieval courtly songs, bad country and self-penned soul barers - all in the one evening.

Because it's supportive. People put up with me singing songs sounding like a bad copy of Kiri Te Kanawa and were never less than helpful. No matter how dire the performance, everyone will clap politely and find some way of helping the performer to improve.

Because the different styles of music I've heard there have widened my musical horizons and challenged how I view where I come from and what I think (especially some of the performers Mike Moroney has booked at Whare Flat!)

Because I love showing off and get the opportunity to do so - especially in the late night trad sessions.

Because I can walk into a club where I haven't been for months - or even years - and being greeted by old friends like no time has passed at all. Most of all, - it's about whanau.