I went over to Gina's to look at the footage she shot last week in Vintage and Rare Guitars. It has come out very well, sound included, apart from one little bit where someone was trying out a Dobro guitar and the camera microphone seemed to get confused.
We decided to do two versions: a straight performance version (to show that I can play) and a Gina version, because that's why I asked her to do it in the first place. She has a playful way about her which I really like, and she shot some footage of my feet, swollen from the heat and crammed into dainty silver shoes like an Ugly Sister, dancing some random home-made dance steps, very Not Madonna.
There is also some nice film of three gentlemen of a certain age wandering around hungrily, looking at potential guitar-buys and glancing sideways at the two strange dames making a film in their fave shop.
We ate cherries and she made me Spanish omelette for lunch, and we talked about teenagers and music.
Now I am home, trying for the third time to upload Foolish Girl's film of Helen and the Horns playing 'Footsteps at my Door' to Youtube.
It gets almost to the end then digs its little technological heels in a refuses to do it.
Blah!
Offsprog One has just phoned from Brighton, because she has found a seagull with a broken wing and the RSPCA is closed.
That's one thing this fix-all parent can't fix; I found her the RSPB number to call and advised her not to take the bird home to feed and look after, because I believe they can be rather tetchy.
I was told this by the ghost of a man who took home a large injured crocodile with a hungry look in its eye.
I am upset to discover that I missed the Housman's Political Bookshop Party last week.
How did I do that?
The week swished by with small problemettes to overcome each day, and nobody thought to mention on Wednesday night that it was Thursday the next day.
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