What a comedown!
Back from holiday...
Martin took me to Barcelona for three days as a birthday present (I was a Christmas baby and spoiled McMum's party diary for several years, apparently). We had a lovely time pottering around, eating ice cream and drinking coffee; it was warmer than it usually is at this time of year.
We stayed on the 18th floor of a brand new hotel, and once I'd got over the vertigo, it was a bit like being in a James Bond movie, apart from Martin not being James Bond (phew, that's a relief!), and me not being a Bond Girl.
The views over Barcelona, daytime when you could see the Gaudi cathedral and the blue, blue sky, and night-time when you could see the city lights and the sparse traffic inching along the grids of roads, up, down, left, right, depending on the moods of the traffic lights, were fabulous.
We soon learned the tube system and bought Te Dia cards (Geordie for today- how weird!), whizzing about here and there in between wanderings.
Then back to Blighty and the regular Kalamazoo Club gig in Crouch End. This year, John and Kate came over and boosted the sound. It was packed to the gills and full of hearty singing voices and happy people. But Martin's up in Hyde tonight, and I'm down in London, with the washing up, the rubbish telly, the mountain of work to contemplate for Monday and the grumpy teenager. Living at opposite ends of the country isn't much fun.
I'm learning a new song to play on Thursday at the benefit gig for the Feminist Library: it's AT the Feminist Library from 8 p.m. onwards and is organised by Acton Bell. I will learn the backing vocals for a Herman's Hermits song she is going to do. And I also have to learn the Captain Beefheart song for the gig at the Boogaloo in Highgate a week on Monday.