Drilling for swans in Northumbria

I thought they were- there were all these swans at the mouth of the river Coquet, and a big yellow drilling thing next to the river with lots of white things that looked like swans but turned out to be big white plastic bags.
Where was I? Oh yes, the gig at Foakies. What a great little club it is- tiny, in a cellar, holds about 30 people and run by a really friendly man called Tom Fairnie, who books poets as well as songwriters, he said, so that the audience listen to the lyrics of the songs. It's true- it works! It was full, the first gig I have done for thousands of years where they were actually turning people away (remind me to play tiny venues all the time in future!); Neil Cooper, the journalist from the Herald came along, and the audience was friendly and they really listened to the songs (most unlike the last place I played, Viva Viva, which I might review as a venue when my blood has stopped boiling!). I was chuffed to bits because some people travelled a long way to get there.
I also sold some CDs which is great 'cos the recording fund is running a little low.
Foakies has a Myspace- check it out if you live in Edinburgh and want a real live music experience!
What else?
Ha ha- I did a live interview about the book for an Irish radio station yesterday which was almost a disaster- I was on the Northumbrian coast at Cullernose Point and there was no signal, until I hit upon the idea of standing on a farm gate. Just as the interview time got close, Mrs Middleclass and her two posh children rolled up on their bikes for a picnic. 'TAKING THINGS FROM MUMMY"S BAG ISN"T THE SAME AS SHOPLIFTING, DARLING', bellowed mummy, as she rustled, panted, crashed and fumbled. They went off somewhere else, I sighed with relief, then what should come along but an EU-funded green megatractor. I had to hop off the gate, it drove into the field, and two huge wings folded down at the far end of the field and it started to spray the barley. It was getting closer... I climbed back on to the gate, wove my legs amongst the aluminium bars, and waited for the phone to ring. They tried three times and I couldn't hear a bloody thing, and then finally they got through. I did the whole thing standing stretched up as tall as I could get wobbling on the gate, until finally they finished with a text from someone called Derek who asked what happened to all-girl group The Wombles. I suggested that he was probably the expert on that one, and the interview finished just as the crop sprayer hove into earshot.
And they say city life is stressful!

Just got home to Darn Sarf, and the house is hopping with fleas hungry for any blood at all, even a cup of tea if no blood is available. I am now poisoning the inhabitants of the house with insecticide, but anything's better than fleas.

Finally, Wearsthetrusers e-zine has a little interview http://blog.myspace.com/wearsthetrousers
I like them- they just do stuff to do with girls and women making music

Going to see Ari play tonight! (Camden Underworld, I think)