Ring out the old.

The Greenhouse was cold. So very cold, apart from a 3 foot diameter around each of the two woodburners situated near the drums and in the opposite corner of the large carpet and glass room. Sir Harry Medium had driven through the night (roughly 45 minutes) to get here and had narrowly avoided a barn owl in the initial throes of depression as it sat debating it's future in the middle of the dark and windy country road. He now sat on a comfy yet beaten up sofa with a can of weak lager drink, still attempting to reheat his toes. It was his toes he was worried about. Always his toes.

The time came for some music from the young Knight Andrew Neal. His sound was like all three original Star Wars films rolled into one, and he and his comrades made a feisty, funky noise. As young Sir Harry's time approached he chatted with the townsfolk and made merry with the festivities. Suddenly, the sky cleared above the glass and the moon came out and everything was magical. The gallant lad played 'The Bridge' for those assembled. They clapped and whooped, and were happy to have had their lives enriched in this way, happy the way they knew they always should have been. A sad moment came as 'Cloudbusting' by Lady of the Mist Kate Bush followed and was dedicated to people not present. Hitting his stride Sir Harry enquired of the crowd if it would be acceptable to their ears for another burst of merriment and they accepted his proposal as if it was christmas and they were all a bit drunk. So he played 'Waiting for Answers' and banished the demons from them with impressive rythym playing the likes of which would have made the Outlaw Pete Townshend blush.
Feeling exceptionally mellowed out by the surroundings (and now very hot and drowsy from standing next to the woodburner), Harry left them wanting more with a delicate version of 'Day of the Triffids'. He made merry again for 45 minutes while some people rubbed singing bowls into microphones.Then he defrosted his horse and went home.

No owls were killed.