By which I mostly mean bramble thorns. Autumn is coming in fast enough and the season of mists may not yet be hear but on the pastway behind the house we have ‘mellow fruitfulness’. For reason don’t understand there are raspberry canes but mostly blackberry brambles. So far I’ve had around 3 kilos and these have even dutifully turned into jam (or jelly if you’re American although technically since these have not been sieved to remove the seeds its jam.)
Jam and bread. Home-made
You’d be surprised how many people stop to talk when you’re out foraging. Family groups who want to encourage their young. Older folks who want to share a memory. Some cheeky types who feel it’s OK to stick hand into your tub and taste the fruit! Mostly I go alone and take a small plastic dish and my grandfather’s old bamboo cane. I can remember him using it to bring down the taller branches to my height so I could help when I was small. Now I use it to do the same even though I can reach higher. Its good for thrashing away nettles too. I’ve just the one serious scratch from a particularly springy ground level branch. Should’ve worn long pants.
My brother donates bags of home grown chillies so there’s chilli jam too.
In other needle related news I went for a new tattoo or two this week. Maybe I’m old enough to know better but I’m also old enough to not give a damn. They’re small enough and covered much of the time. They’re for me not you.
Visa applied for and received… 10 minutes. Wife’s visa applied for ….. still waiting. Flights ( multiple) checked. Hotels checked….oh shit…that one is booked for next year … free cancellation and rebooked for this year (oops!). Train tbc but that’s the last part of the puzzle. This year’s trip is a big one. Oh, we’re not off yet. No first there’s a wedding and gig and all ki ds of normal stuff to to but the anticipation is becoming palpable (big word for a Sunday).
Ivwr the coming weeks and months the there will be the arrival of the wife’s visa (hopefully), the unofficial quarantine just in case. The test packing. Repacking. Unpacking and re test packing. The camera practice. Perhaps a little dietary adjustment to ensure the fit of the prepacked clothing. Jabs, extra medicines… all the usual pre trip things. Oh..insurance… don’t forget that.
Cat/house sitter confirmed. Money to change. Bank to be informed.
And then again the new fireplace needs fitting. Then there’s the re plastering bu ti doubt the decorating will get done this side of the exodus. Not that there’s any pressure. None. Really. Well maybe a bit. Oh, did you remember…
I’m sure I mentioned that I was going to be at a festival. Cambridge Folk Festival to be precise. Arrived early having rebooked to avoid the train strike. (I fully support all trade union actions and respectfully remind you that excessive profits are unpaid wages.) We waltzed around the town for a day and took in the sights, though to be honest at £11 per adult per college you’re not going to visit them all!
Wristbands collected. Refillable drinks plastic glass procured. A brief wait for the merch tent to open so we could get a programme spent happily at the cider stall. The key to a good festival is the choice of bands to see. With 4 stages a clash is inevitable but rate your must see/like to see/will see if passing carefully and Bob’s your aunty. Mooch round the market looking at the festival clothes/hats/jewelry and, of course, the instrument stall… because this is a folk festival.
Wristband
Who did we see…? Findlay. Spiers and Boden. Dustbowl Revival (best find of the festival for me). The Young Uns. Suzanne Vega. Seasick Steve (which got a bit ‘blokey’ and dangerous feeling so we left). Admiral Fallow (not their best set something was off). Zoe Bestel. The People Versus. Cruel Folk. The Honest Poet. Dupree. June Road. The Mary Wallopers. Katherine Priddy.
My pick of the festival must see was Christone ‘Kingfish’ Ingham. I’d caught a tune or two on the radio the week before. He’s a Grammy Award winning blues guitar player. Yep. Blues at a folk festival, that’s Cambridge. His security detail were not best pleased when he disappeared off stage, still wired in through his radio pickup, and reappeared sometime later in the middle of the audience. Brilliant (and he knows it) check out his albums.
Kingfish
However the ‘remember for ever’ moment will go to the Billy Bragg set. Now Billy and I go way back. I actually gave him his 1st gig in Manchester back in 1983/4. (There is a photo to prove it). Naturally I wanted to catch his set but this clashed with both O’Hooley and Tidow (also acquaintances … we caught the first few songs of their set) and the 2nd half of the Women’s European football final. He checked his phone just before the set to see that the German team had equalised 1-1. Part way through he spotted someone in the crowd checking the score… into extra time… Billy decided we should all sing Jerusalem to spur them on but just the 1st verse. 2-1 shouts the guy. One song… how long to go? 2 minutes… Billy decided to talk for a while but couldn’t hold off and launched into ‘Shirley‘ … around verse 3 the cheer went up. He stopped playing and wept. So did just about every woman in the crowd. Strangers hugged each other, a strange sight in this post Covid world. We sang the 2nd verse of Jerusalem!
Billy Bragg
Much of the weekend was spent enjoying amazing music, cider and company. There was much anti Tory sentiment (as is the way with folk music) including a beautiful arrangement of ‘Vote the Bastards Out’ in 4 part harmony by the Spooky Men’s Chorale. Regardless of your political views (who am I kidding) I’d definitely advise you to check out next year’s festival.
Interior of Kings College Chapel. Nice visit yesterday pre Folk Festival. Expect a post about music, festival clothing/loos/food etc. In due course…. and random comments about amazing music.
We do not do heat well in the UK. Usually summer falls on a damp Wednesday in July and we sit around drinking our teas slightly more tepid than usual so we can cool off. This year however we seem to have had almost a week of extreme heat. To all my Australian chums I say, yes 40 degrees C, in London (!) and even in Lancashire 37 degrees. I accidentally left my diving computer in the car and it reached 43 degrees in side there before I rescued the poor thing. Dogs and computers die in hot cars. The hype is such that there is talk of disallowing any sun cream under factor 30. I know that Aussie chums will sniff and state that nothing under factor 50 will do…except staying indoors until winter.
Naturally the moment the schools break up for the summer it begins to pour down and winds blow up to 40 miles an hour up the Welsh coast ruining your ‘staycation’ which you were secretly gloating over when your mate got stuck in a 7+ hour queue for the ferry at Dover because Brexit and the end of freedom to travel. Not so many LOLZ as the tent came down in a hooley eh? As if the new strain of Covid and a stack of staff illness/resignation etc. hadn’t overworked the NHS enough now there’s a crop of folks with heatstroke. I’m feeling particularly political and contentious today (so hang me) and suggest that nurses need a decent pay rise and the promised ‘Brexit dividend’ needs to reach the NHS pronto alongside the extra funds from the new higher National Insurance.
On a lighter note we managed to persuade even the most skittish of our cats to lay on the cool mat we bought for them… when we weren’t using it of course. Apparently there’s another heatwave on the way. That should be fun.
I have a confession to make. I do consumer competitions. You know the ones splashed down your chocolate bar or on a nifty collar on your fave tipple…WIN….money, a holiday, car, plastic novelty item, tickets… Another confession. I have won several such prize draws and tests of skill. The point being they are designed to affect your spending choices and to attract your loyalty. I get a magazine with all such ‘contests’ available to me listed. I do t even have to buy the thing (unless that’s an entry requirement). There are also secret oiine cabals with free listings….they even publish the answers.
My point being that way back,I those heady days before the pandemic, I won a two night trip to a rather swanky place. Hoar Cross Hall (Not sponsored) As a marketing ploy it was successful as we go back annually global circumstances permitting. My absence is due to one such brief voyage. We spent 36 glorious hours mainly underground and submerged in water… except when being therapeutically pummelled or Michelin star fed. This is the first occasion I don’t recall seeing a TV or other celeb. There was however a wedding and I realised that I’d previously missed the chapel and a walk around the church which stands in the grounds.
My parents hate the very idea of the’spa’. That’s OK they weren’t invited. Buying time away from the everyday even for a moment, even a fairground ride or a film, is something everyone dies in their own way. A walk at the beach need cost nothing, also true for urban exploration. Take some time. Sit. Think. Play.
To be fair I mean the kind with a host who goes gently and with an open mind into all manner of places and accommodation. I’m definitely not talking (Judith Chalmers…you have to be a Brit of a certain age but think leather skinned journalist sampling up market package tours). Inspired by a live performance by one Sandi Toksvig we spent a happy evening catching up on some of her exploits around the UK this evening. Together with her chums she shows us around splendid, and often isolated, places where you could stay with a group or as a pair (if you had a lot of money) and pretend to be a knight or lady of the manor. There’s history and weather and non of it stops one from having fun.
Joanna Lumley does a mean travelogue too. Though these tend to be lengthy and exotic as do Sue Perkins travels. Notice that all of these are women. Obviously being accompanied by a film crew and fixer make things go more smoothly (or less dangerously) but the commentary from a female presenter is on a different scale. Even the great Michael Palin could be a touch epic. Its the little things which endear these women to you. I mean when did you last see a blokey travel host make dinner for his chums?
In other news I have just passed my Ham exam and will soon be licenced for the airwaves. My voyages around the world may be virtual for now but we shall see.
So for a while I’ve had a little synth known as an OP-1. (If you know you know). I’ve not really for to grips with the thing but with the release of an updated version(for even more and trust me it ain’t cheap) I decided I’d best dust it off and play. The face that my better half is away for a few days and I can cheerfully make a racket has nothing to do with it….honest.
Again YouTube is a marvellous thing and alone to rewind and pause as often as you like. I managed after some fumbling to create what the young folks call a ‘beat’. The theory is simple all I need to do now I’d fine tune the way I understand the controls. It’s a fun little beast and you can rest assured I’m not planning an album any time soon.) Just knowing that I can finally use it.
I’m a secretive creature. Not like hiding things but I prefer to practice and try things without an audience. It’s an introvert thing. In my life I’ve found that strangers can teach me as I’ve nothing to lose. Where I’m invested with a person I’m less inclined to show weakness. Daft eh? Still now you know. If I have one piece of advice for others (hey I’m flawed get over it) it is do your thing fearlessly. I’m learning. That’s some of what this is is about.
ffiftypluses 