I love The Waifs, I have yet to find a song that they've done that I don't love. It's really hard to choose just one.
I find myself wanting to add a video for Bridal Train, or maybe Lighthouse Man, or London Still, possibly Service Fee or The Haircut.
Instead I've opted for the new album.
The Waifs - SunDirtWater:
Oh, and it's late because I am the world's biggest dumbass.
I'm too ashamed to share my idiocy.
Well, maybe I'm not.
I couldn't get youtube to work. Well it was working insomuch as I could see the video, but I couldn't hear anything. I knew my speakers were working fine.
So, a day or more passes, Gary came over this evening for dinner with Aggie and whilst she and I were creating some card/booklets I bemoaned my youtube troubles. He looked at it and said, "you realise you have the volume turned off on the videos?"
Uh, no, and for some reason I hadn't thought to check.
This red hair actually hides a natural brunette. Not a natural blonde as some might be about to suggest....
Monday, 19 May 2008
Wednesday, 14 May 2008
Dancing On Ice
My busy schedule meant that last night I was to be found in Nottingham.
I headed off with Mum, Tim & Gladys. Gladys being the name of their all-knowing Sat-Nav.
I sat in the back with my book which I'm rather addicted to, despite it being about vampires, a topic I'd never ordinarily opt to read about. It's not that scary, which is always a bonus as I'm such a giant jessie.
We arrived, found a parking spot and wandered off to find somewhere to have dinner. After seeing a couple of places we turned our noses up we saw Pizza Express and a buffet restaurant. We strolled into Pizza Express, and saw it was heaving with people. We stood around for a moment, were ignored by two separate wait staff and decided that the buffet might be a better option, turned around and left.
We walked into the Red Hot Buffet and were immediately greeted and shown to a table. The tables were a little too crammed together, leaving barely inches between them. Intimate dining is one thing, and I may like to eavesdrop, but this was just too close.
We instead took the option of a booth which was very nice and went off in search of plates and the world buffet promised. My goodness, you want Italian? You got it. Mexican? That too. Chinese? Yeah, that's there too. What's that? You felt like salad? Well what do you know, you can have that as well.
Although my mind is not made up about the pickled mushrooms, that was just weird too weird.
Then, it was time for dessert. Oh my god! There were marshmallows, little penny sweets, melted chocolate, an ice cream machine, a multitude of cheesecakes, tiramisu, vanilla souffle, fudge cake, crumble, a freezer full of more ice creams... I think I may have found my personal heaven. I love cake I do!
After dinner we walked (rolled) to the arena in Nottingham to watch Dancing on Ice live.
We found our seats, row T, which by the way seemed so high up I was sure they'd be providing oxygen in case of altitude sickness. Whilst I'm not that bothered by heights, I do have this weird vertigo that sends me dizzy occasionally and it was a little scary feeling that it was a really, really long way to fall.
Once the lights went down, Torvill and Dean came out and did a wonderful turn on the ice and I momentarily forgot about the mountainous height we were sitting at.
I was also a little distracted by the woman across the aisle from us who appeared to have had surgery to turn her apparently normal hands into a pair of castanets. I've never heard such loud clapping, I'm sure it reverberated around the arena.
The skating stars were introduced, Mum was thrilled to see that David Seaman was amongst their number. This years winner Suzanne Shaw was there too, along with Linda Lusardi, Gareth Gates, Clare Buckfield, Kyran Bracken, Bonnie Langford and Zaraah Abraham.
They all did a turn on the ice, were all judged by the same ice panel as were on tv, then, as the intermission began, the lines were opened and we were able to send a vote via text to choose who we felt deserved to go into the final to dance the famous Bolero.
After the intermission, the professionals came onto the ice to show you how it was all supposed to be done and were really excellent. Although it's worth pointing out that there were only two people to fall over in the whole show and both of them were professionals!
When it came to the end, it was Suzanne against Bonnie in the final and it was rather predictable and I'm beginning to think I might have a psychic ability as, in my head, I predicted each and every celebrity to be voted off as they were voted off. Both were good although my vote would have been for Suzanne, four of the five judges voted for Bonnie, which wasn't at all a popular choice with the audience. I guess that her popularity is waning. We public are a fickle bunch!
On the way out I thought I would surely have a nervous breakdown, whilst making my way down those incredibly steep stairs. I felt my heart rate start to race, then my knee started to tremble - as it does when I feel anxious. Standing on steep stairs is not an appropriate time to have your knee stop working. It was no fun I tell you, but I survived to blog another day.
This afternoon I have headed in to my friend Harriet's shop, tastyvintage so that I can sit out front while she takes photos out back. Although what I'm actually doing is writing this blog entry, thank the lord for dongles and wireless internet.
Harriet came through and tried to give me fizzy water which is just so wrong, so she went in the back to both try on a wedding dress and get me tap water.
A moment later the shop phone rang and I wondered whether or not to answer it.
I picked it up and in my most professional voice said "Hello, TastyVintage".
Harriet's voice greeted me "It's me, I think I'm stuck in the wedding dress."
This is why I love Harriet, I too have been stuck in items of clothing and totally understand her problem. She is now free of said dress following my assisting in pulling its laciness over her head.
I headed off with Mum, Tim & Gladys. Gladys being the name of their all-knowing Sat-Nav.
I sat in the back with my book which I'm rather addicted to, despite it being about vampires, a topic I'd never ordinarily opt to read about. It's not that scary, which is always a bonus as I'm such a giant jessie.
We arrived, found a parking spot and wandered off to find somewhere to have dinner. After seeing a couple of places we turned our noses up we saw Pizza Express and a buffet restaurant. We strolled into Pizza Express, and saw it was heaving with people. We stood around for a moment, were ignored by two separate wait staff and decided that the buffet might be a better option, turned around and left.
We walked into the Red Hot Buffet and were immediately greeted and shown to a table. The tables were a little too crammed together, leaving barely inches between them. Intimate dining is one thing, and I may like to eavesdrop, but this was just too close.
We instead took the option of a booth which was very nice and went off in search of plates and the world buffet promised. My goodness, you want Italian? You got it. Mexican? That too. Chinese? Yeah, that's there too. What's that? You felt like salad? Well what do you know, you can have that as well.
Although my mind is not made up about the pickled mushrooms, that was just weird too weird.
Then, it was time for dessert. Oh my god! There were marshmallows, little penny sweets, melted chocolate, an ice cream machine, a multitude of cheesecakes, tiramisu, vanilla souffle, fudge cake, crumble, a freezer full of more ice creams... I think I may have found my personal heaven. I love cake I do!
After dinner we walked (rolled) to the arena in Nottingham to watch Dancing on Ice live.
We found our seats, row T, which by the way seemed so high up I was sure they'd be providing oxygen in case of altitude sickness. Whilst I'm not that bothered by heights, I do have this weird vertigo that sends me dizzy occasionally and it was a little scary feeling that it was a really, really long way to fall.
Once the lights went down, Torvill and Dean came out and did a wonderful turn on the ice and I momentarily forgot about the mountainous height we were sitting at.
I was also a little distracted by the woman across the aisle from us who appeared to have had surgery to turn her apparently normal hands into a pair of castanets. I've never heard such loud clapping, I'm sure it reverberated around the arena.
The skating stars were introduced, Mum was thrilled to see that David Seaman was amongst their number. This years winner Suzanne Shaw was there too, along with Linda Lusardi, Gareth Gates, Clare Buckfield, Kyran Bracken, Bonnie Langford and Zaraah Abraham.
They all did a turn on the ice, were all judged by the same ice panel as were on tv, then, as the intermission began, the lines were opened and we were able to send a vote via text to choose who we felt deserved to go into the final to dance the famous Bolero.
After the intermission, the professionals came onto the ice to show you how it was all supposed to be done and were really excellent. Although it's worth pointing out that there were only two people to fall over in the whole show and both of them were professionals!
When it came to the end, it was Suzanne against Bonnie in the final and it was rather predictable and I'm beginning to think I might have a psychic ability as, in my head, I predicted each and every celebrity to be voted off as they were voted off. Both were good although my vote would have been for Suzanne, four of the five judges voted for Bonnie, which wasn't at all a popular choice with the audience. I guess that her popularity is waning. We public are a fickle bunch!
On the way out I thought I would surely have a nervous breakdown, whilst making my way down those incredibly steep stairs. I felt my heart rate start to race, then my knee started to tremble - as it does when I feel anxious. Standing on steep stairs is not an appropriate time to have your knee stop working. It was no fun I tell you, but I survived to blog another day.
This afternoon I have headed in to my friend Harriet's shop, tastyvintage so that I can sit out front while she takes photos out back. Although what I'm actually doing is writing this blog entry, thank the lord for dongles and wireless internet.
Harriet came through and tried to give me fizzy water which is just so wrong, so she went in the back to both try on a wedding dress and get me tap water.
A moment later the shop phone rang and I wondered whether or not to answer it.
I picked it up and in my most professional voice said "Hello, TastyVintage".
Harriet's voice greeted me "It's me, I think I'm stuck in the wedding dress."
This is why I love Harriet, I too have been stuck in items of clothing and totally understand her problem. She is now free of said dress following my assisting in pulling its laciness over her head.
Tuesday, 13 May 2008
My Social Calendar - Banksie
I have a manic week this week.
I'm not sure how it happened, but I'm booked up every night this week, which probably means I'll have a bucketload of tales to tell.
I know, it's exciting eh?
Last night I went to the Drill Hall in Lincoln to see an interview with Iain Banks.
It was only an hour long but interesting, good to see the author in the flesh I think, and have him sign my book.
Although Gary got a little bit of spittle in his book. Mr Banks apologised and I asked him how much his spittle was worth on eBay these days. He didn't seem to know, which was a little disappointing.
It's hard to believe that it's almost 25 years since The Wasp Factory was published, and apparently that was to be his last attempt at getting published before he headed back to Scotland with his sporran between his legs.
I loved The Wasp Factory, but as the quotes taken from reviews at the front of the book show, feelings about it were very divisive. Some loved, some hated.
He said last night that he had meant it to be absolutely hilarious, but it clearly has some very dark portions and an unexpected twist.
The back cover of my book has this:
His is the only science fiction that I read, which as is well known, he writes as Iain M Banks. There is something about his voice that makes the science fiction feel accessible to me.
Last night he explained that he started with science fiction, but couldn't get it published and thus decided to write something more mainstream. Following the publication of The Wasp Factory and then following that with Walking On Glass and The Bridge he brought out Consider Phlebas, his first science fiction novel to be published.
I'm looking forward to discovering his newest - The Steep Approach to Garbadale - very soon, it's been added to the book slide collection in my bedroom.
I'm not sure how it happened, but I'm booked up every night this week, which probably means I'll have a bucketload of tales to tell.
I know, it's exciting eh?
Last night I went to the Drill Hall in Lincoln to see an interview with Iain Banks.
It was only an hour long but interesting, good to see the author in the flesh I think, and have him sign my book.
Although Gary got a little bit of spittle in his book. Mr Banks apologised and I asked him how much his spittle was worth on eBay these days. He didn't seem to know, which was a little disappointing.
It's hard to believe that it's almost 25 years since The Wasp Factory was published, and apparently that was to be his last attempt at getting published before he headed back to Scotland with his sporran between his legs.
I loved The Wasp Factory, but as the quotes taken from reviews at the front of the book show, feelings about it were very divisive. Some loved, some hated.
He said last night that he had meant it to be absolutely hilarious, but it clearly has some very dark portions and an unexpected twist.
The back cover of my book has this:
'Two years after I killed Blyth I murdered my young brother Paul, for quite different and more fundamental reasons than I'd disposed of Blyth, and then a year after that I did for my young cousin Esmeralda, more or less on a whim. That's my score to date. Three. I haven't killed anybody for years and don't intend to ever again. It was just a stage I was going through.'
His is the only science fiction that I read, which as is well known, he writes as Iain M Banks. There is something about his voice that makes the science fiction feel accessible to me.
Last night he explained that he started with science fiction, but couldn't get it published and thus decided to write something more mainstream. Following the publication of The Wasp Factory and then following that with Walking On Glass and The Bridge he brought out Consider Phlebas, his first science fiction novel to be published.
I'm looking forward to discovering his newest - The Steep Approach to Garbadale - very soon, it's been added to the book slide collection in my bedroom.
Sunday, 11 May 2008
Rambling Flora
Soon the Lincolnshire Wolds Walking Festival begins. We've selected eight or nine walks from the 50+ available over the fortnight of festival and intend to get out there and explore the countryside around us.
We're planning to go on walks around deserted medieval villages, to go on a dawn walk just as nature is awakening, to discover things we didn't know existed.
The walks vary from just half a mile up to about 15.
We're aiming to do between 3 & 8. You have to know your limits whilst pushing yourself a little.
Yesterday Rachael and I took a walk over to the next village then took the scenic route back to my house. We did around 5 miles and it was absolutely glorious out there. The trees were full of blossom and the hedges too.
It seems so early for the dandelions to have already turned from the bright yellow explosion of petals to the fluffy seedheads, begging to be picked and blown. When I was younger, and in fact to this day, when I see those lighter than air seeds floating in the breeze, I think of them as faeries. As children we would desperately try to catch them when they floated through an open window, desperate to release those faeries back into the wild!
I love that the lawns, fields, meadows are scattered with the happy faces of the daisy as you stroll your way down the footpaths. They are and always have been my favourite flower, as I've said before. They're so simple and fresh. Beautiful.
Today I don't have any aches at all from the ramble yesterday so I think I'm primed and ready for the walking in the Wolds. Although I haven't done any hills, and Lincolnshire is most certainly not as flat as people believe it to be!Cambridge Folk Festival
It's a little after 9.30am. Just half an hour after the box office opened for the festival and I have tickets!
They're not in my hand but they are booked and paid for. Not only that, I have booked to stay in a motorcaravan. Ooops.
My 70's tent might be groovy, but it is NOT a motorcaravan.
I got to the festival website at about 8.55am.
I clicked the Book Now button, expecting to be told to come back at 9am, but no, it told me I was in a queue to buy tickets.
I was over 1200 in the queue.
Mum rang, also over 1200, but lower than I.
We hung up at 9am, I started calling and got what we called in my BT days, PET. Permanent Engaged Tone.
I sent Mum a message: 1198
She replied: 1141, 1117.
Me: 1176
Me: 838
Mum: 783
Mum: 767
The tension was palpable. Can you feel it? (That made me go all Jackson 5 for a moment.)
Me: 724
Me: 717
Mum: 640
Me: 660
Mum: 594
Me: 646
Mum: 591
Me: 643
After dropping half way down the queue in just 15 minutes it had stalled to small drops, was this what the rest of the wait had in store?
Me: 600
Mum: 547
Me: 379
Mum: 547
Hmm, what happened there... I leapfrogged.
Me: 325
Me: 206
Heart rate steps it up a notch.
Mum: 196
Me: 90
Holy crap, from drops of just a few to suddenly being in double figures.
Mum: 18
Me: 40
This is where is all went a little haywire.
Mum rang as she was so close to the front of the queue.
Her page started to refresh, slowly.
As did mine. I was still at place 40.
Mum's page was still refreshing.
Mine refreshed again. Still 40.
Mum's page sort of refreshed - but to 'cannot display this page'.
Not really a step in the right direction at all.
Then mine refreshed to the exact same thing. No page was being displayed. It was like waiting on the phone for a really long time before being cut off.
What now?
I closed the screen. I clicked Book Now again, same screen, and again, and again, and again, and again and then suddenly it said 'what's your postcode?'
What was this?
Was I in?
Was I booking tickets?
I rang Mum.
Me: I'm in!
Mum: What number in the queue?
Me: No! I'm IN! I'm booking!
Mum: Well get on with it then!
And I did. Tickets booked, Cambridge Folk Festival and I are getting it on.
I went and read the 'Considerate Folkie Guide' which was absolutely hilarious. They have actually issued photographs of acceptable chairs.
I own an acceptable chair, but to be fair as they've changed the rules year after year on what is an acceptable chair and I now have three different chairs, the odds were that one at least had to be acceptable!
So, June brings me The Big Session and July brings me Cambridge. It's all good.
They're not in my hand but they are booked and paid for. Not only that, I have booked to stay in a motorcaravan. Ooops.
My 70's tent might be groovy, but it is NOT a motorcaravan.
I got to the festival website at about 8.55am.
I clicked the Book Now button, expecting to be told to come back at 9am, but no, it told me I was in a queue to buy tickets.
I was over 1200 in the queue.
Mum rang, also over 1200, but lower than I.
We hung up at 9am, I started calling and got what we called in my BT days, PET. Permanent Engaged Tone.
I sent Mum a message: 1198
She replied: 1141, 1117.
Me: 1176
Me: 838
Mum: 783
Mum: 767
The tension was palpable. Can you feel it? (That made me go all Jackson 5 for a moment.)
Me: 724
Me: 717
Mum: 640
Me: 660
Mum: 594
Me: 646
Mum: 591
Me: 643
After dropping half way down the queue in just 15 minutes it had stalled to small drops, was this what the rest of the wait had in store?
Me: 600
Mum: 547
Me: 379
Mum: 547
Hmm, what happened there... I leapfrogged.
Me: 325
Me: 206
Heart rate steps it up a notch.
Mum: 196
Me: 90
Holy crap, from drops of just a few to suddenly being in double figures.
Mum: 18
Me: 40
This is where is all went a little haywire.
Mum rang as she was so close to the front of the queue.
Her page started to refresh, slowly.
As did mine. I was still at place 40.
Mum's page was still refreshing.
Mine refreshed again. Still 40.
Mum's page sort of refreshed - but to 'cannot display this page'.
Not really a step in the right direction at all.
Then mine refreshed to the exact same thing. No page was being displayed. It was like waiting on the phone for a really long time before being cut off.
What now?
I closed the screen. I clicked Book Now again, same screen, and again, and again, and again, and again and then suddenly it said 'what's your postcode?'
What was this?
Was I in?
Was I booking tickets?
I rang Mum.
Me: I'm in!
Mum: What number in the queue?
Me: No! I'm IN! I'm booking!
Mum: Well get on with it then!
And I did. Tickets booked, Cambridge Folk Festival and I are getting it on.
I went and read the 'Considerate Folkie Guide' which was absolutely hilarious. They have actually issued photographs of acceptable chairs.
I own an acceptable chair, but to be fair as they've changed the rules year after year on what is an acceptable chair and I now have three different chairs, the odds were that one at least had to be acceptable!
So, June brings me The Big Session and July brings me Cambridge. It's all good.
Saturday, 10 May 2008
Picnic On The Green
Last week I sat and thought about the fact that the sun was shining.
I realised that although I've got quite a lot planned for this month, I wasn't really doing much to make the most of the glorious weather.
I also thought that it seemed to be getting harder and harder to find time to spend with my friends. The sun is out, we should be making the most of it!
But instead, in small groups we trot round to each others houses infrequently for barbecues - which is lovely - don't get me wrong, but what happened to the big social events?
Why aren't we out in the parks having a laugh the way we did when we were younger?
So, this year I want a picnic.
Just a moment from my house is the lovely village green:
It's about time we made use of it. That picture's a few years old now and some of the trees have matured, which means you get sunshine and shade. The weeping willows run along the edge of the beck, which is usually at a perfect height for paddling and splashing.
There are ducks to feed and fun to be had.
So on June 21st this year, just after my birthday I'm inviting my friends, family & neighbours, their friends and family to join me on the green for a picnic.
I want everyone to be able to bring along their circle of friends. We all get to hang out with the people we like to spend time with, children get to play together whilst adults soak up the sun and cremate things on barbecues.
We also get to chat to new people, catch up with old friends, thrash each other in swingball tournaments, kick a ball about, and whatever other outdoor games are out there.
Croquet anyone?
I hope that lots of people can make it and that we all have a really wonderful day.
On the offchance it rains - we can at least see the pub from the green...
More Dreaming
I dreamt last night that I was watching a creature.
For some reason it was hiding underneath a table...
There were other people there and all were talking to each other about the Echidna hiding under the table.
I remember getting really upset because it was quite plainly a Pangolin.
Although at one point it also got really upset, turned round, lifted its tail and unpleasantly sprayed some of the people. And I'm not sure that a pangolin does that. I'm not even sure if an Echidna does either.
Whatever, it was clearly upset at the mis-identification.
I only get weirder.
For some reason it was hiding underneath a table...
There were other people there and all were talking to each other about the Echidna hiding under the table.
I remember getting really upset because it was quite plainly a Pangolin.
Although at one point it also got really upset, turned round, lifted its tail and unpleasantly sprayed some of the people. And I'm not sure that a pangolin does that. I'm not even sure if an Echidna does either.
Whatever, it was clearly upset at the mis-identification.
I only get weirder.
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