Just got back from the guitar weekend in Dumfries- about 20 guitar nerdies and me (guitar nerdy too), sitting in circles playing till we were dazed by chords and sequences. What a lovely thing to do- Friday evening, all day Saturday, and Sunday morning, in a hotel with fantastic grounds next to a river. All sitting round a huge table at mealtimes with the punk waitress yelling out our orders (warning: the guy from Manchester know more dirty jokes than it is healthy to know, although his anecdote about a curry so hot his rear end resembled the Japanese flag was disgustingly funny). Oh I laughed though. Geordie humour is very dry. 'Ah, Scottish Brie... from Scotland'. And Big Jim told a story about a young guitar student who turned up for a lesson with no strings on his guitar. 'Just show us the shapes', he said. I am not sure I can remember anything I learned although it all might miraculously reappear in my brain next time I pick up the guitar. But it was fun, and there was a little concert on the Saturday night. I drove home today in the sunshine feelng on top of the world, even though there is not a single caff on the A1 that sells decent coffee. Thank you Martin for giving me a place on it, and to him, Jim and Gary for showing us so much mind-blowing stuff, and to Andrew for organising it.
N.B. prize for badly-designed bird goes to The Pheasant for having a red eye like a target, and a squawk that can be heard for miles. What's that all about?
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