Friday, 1 May 2009

Song Of The Week LVIII

It's been a good week this week.
I pulled up outside my house just as our postlady, Pearl, was about to deliver my mail, she paused and said how jealous she was of my Sylvac collection. No-one is ever jealous of my Sylvac, I'm the only person I know that really likes it. But Pearl said she always wanted to break my window and steal the items on my windowsill. So at least I'll have a prime suspect if that ever happens!

Also, my Dad went for some surgery on Tuesday, it all went really well so that's a worry off the mind. I got a call on Wednesday morning to say he was ready to come home. I wasn't expecting him till the afternoon and had gone out on some chores, so I set off with only a couple of road numbers as directions, to a hospital I'd never been to before. I'll have you know, I drove straight there with nary a wrong turn. My sense of direction must finally be coming to life.
So, I find the hospital, go into the car park and savour the feeling of being in a car where the windows wind down and enable me to reach my arm out and get a ticket, instead of having to get out of the car!


I stride my way across the car park when I suddenly hear a shout and turn towards the voice. A gentleman is yelling that he loves my hair. It's been this shade of scarlet for such a long time I almost forget, in fact it never really feels very red to me. He catches up with me and joins me as we walk into the hotel, continuing to compliment me on my hair, which was very sweet really, particularly as it really could have done with a wash. He then says that he wishes he had a camera so he could photograph me.
At this point I'm not sure if it's still a compliment or not, or just a little odd.
I'm going to believe it to be a compliment.


Wednesday night I went to a gig. I'd been really looking forward to it and am no longer even slightly nervous about going on my own. I'd never have believed that possible.
With the exception of the elderly couple to my left it was excellent. They were a little hard of hearing and their whispered conversation was a rather shouted. And they weren't fragrant in a good way. Oh well, they didn't stay till the end, which I wasn't wholly sorry about.

This leads me to this weeks song, this is who I went to see:

Eliza Carthy - Like I Care:

In this video she is pretty heavily pregnant and still jumping about, she just seems to love the music.
Her new baby girl was there at the gig, born on Christmas Eve and christened Florence Daisy, which I think is a really lovely name.
My niece was doing the lighting for the gig so I'd offered her a lift home afterwards, knowing I'd have to wait for her to sort out all the equipment and stuff first.
So, when the gig ended, I went back out to the foyer, sat at a table and drifted off into my own thoughts. Until some people sat down immediately behind me, they were Eliza's friends, then Eliza arrived. So they all sat in this big jolly, chatty group and I was sitting there like a billy-no-mates. Some sort of stalkery hanger on. So I decided to nonchalantly wander off and read the posters on the wall (after having already read them all thoroughly several times already).
Slowly the place emptied and all that was left were the venue staff and the band.
I hung around in the foyer still. I watched the sound guy huff and puff his way around, if you look up asshole, there will be a picture of this guy. I swear it. I don't know what was wrong with him, but I swear he tried to run me down with a double bass.
It was some time later and it was clear the band were almost ready to go, when Eliza reappeared, with little Florence.

I am still hanging around. At this point I start to feel like she thinks I'm some desperate hanger on.
My internal monologue is telling me to be quiet, go read the posters again, take out my book and read it, but for goodness sakes to keep my mouth shut.

"She's a really beautiful baby" I say. I just can't keep my mouth shut.
My internal monologue is screaming at me to shut up, don't say anything else.

Eliza smiles and says she thinks so.
"By the way, I'm totally not a stalker hanging around here, my niece did the lighting and I'm waiting to take her home". My internal monologue never wins, I always feel the need to explain my behaviour, except instead of people thinking I'm NOT crazy, the opening of my mouth has the opposite effect.
Eliza looked unconvinced and left very soon after.
Way to go, me.

Whilst I was hanging around in that foyer I noticed that The Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain were playing on Friday 1st May in Lincoln - I couldn't believe I hadn't known and was cursing my serious lack of funds.
However, I have tickets and am going this evening, thanks to Dad! Hurrah.

There was a sad moment this week. I decided that it would be best if Beastie went to the autobreakers. She had a few more problems than I realised after a friend came to look at her and I realised I was going to have difficulties selling her on. Thursday afternoon rolled around and in rolled the autobreaker truck.
"Will she start?" he asked me?
"Most definitely" I replied. Of course she'll start, first time too, she's a very good girl and I love her with all my heart.
As the autobreaker dude blocked the drive, a man with a delivery of very long planks of wood suddenly appeared. We looked at each other and I said I didn't think he was in luck.
"I'll have to pole vault over" he suggested.
"Do it, do it" I encouraged.
"You'd be impressed if I made it, wouldn't you?"
"Hell, that's my car on the back of the truck, even if you don't make it, I'll be entertained and cheered."
"It's going to be scrapped?"
"Don't you say the S word!!!!"
"Sorry, she's going to the place for cars in the sky?"
"Yes, to a better place"
I'm sorry to say that I just closed the door of autobreaker man's truck, there was no pole vaulting.
Beastie was carried away on the back of a truck and I was overwhelmed with guilt, I admit I had to sit down and have a big cry.

At least the sun is shining, I got more veg planted in the garden and I also started myself a little gardening blog. Mostly for my own benefit, I wanted to keep notes of what I liked and what I didn't. It's also really interesting to be able to note how long things took to germinate, how long it was before I was harvesting some crops.
I'm also hoping to be able to get some notes on any foraging I get to do this year. When I mentioned that I was planning on making Elderflower cordial this year I was asked if I would be selling it, by two separate people. So I'm definitely going to have to try and get that made well. Although I don't think I'll be selling it!

So, has it been a good week for you too?

2 comments:

3peaksbykayak said...

I love this tale. I know what you mean about wanting to say something but not appear like a tongue tied stalker with the internal dialogue yakking away ten to the dozen! I find it is the same here - on the WWW, wanting to write things or contact people a)who I have never met and b) who if I do would probably think that I am some kind of weirdo (which I am not).

By the way - I saw Eliza Carthy supporting the Oysterband many moons ago! I love her fiddle playing and her singing too!

And no, I don't think I'm a psychopath either.

Take care, Nick

Flibbertigibbet said...

For the record, I never thought you were a weirdo and I'm always heartily pleased to be contacted!

Eliza just comes across as a thoroughly warm, very nice person, with a genuine passion for what she does.
By the way - Eliza & Oysterband, right there is as close to heaven as you get!
I'm seeing them in June. Oooh! Next month.
Much excited!