Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Running with Mum
I know nothing about Hollywood films, but lots about films my friends make.
Running with Mum is a film by my friend Martin Greaves about his mum's experience as a little girl in a German town, Dormstadt, that was bombed by the Allies and
turned into a firestorm. It is a beautiful film which shows the distant tenderness between a mother and her grown son, and a sense of living alongside the terrible experiences of the past with a combination of stoicism and forgiveness. It's showing at the Raindance Festival in London on 12th October. Festival details:
http://www.raindance.co.uk/site/index.php?id=301,2746,0,0,1,0
And this is the film website:
http://www.runningwithmum.com
Running with Mum is a film by my friend Martin Greaves about his mum's experience as a little girl in a German town, Dormstadt, that was bombed by the Allies and
turned into a firestorm. It is a beautiful film which shows the distant tenderness between a mother and her grown son, and a sense of living alongside the terrible experiences of the past with a combination of stoicism and forgiveness. It's showing at the Raindance Festival in London on 12th October. Festival details:
http://www.raindance.co.uk/site/index.php?id=301,2746,0,0,1,0
And this is the film website:
http://www.runningwithmum.com
Doodlebug Vintage
Yee-ha!
I'm going to busk at the Doodlebug Vintage Fair in Barnet (!0 Wood Street) this Sunday 12th October; one set at two and another at three.
I did a posting about it a few weeks ago; I'd seen it advertised and not bothered to go because I thought it would be a glorified jumble sale. One morning I went in anyway and was amazed, not just by the clothes but also by the stallholders, who were dressed in the gear- Forties Woman and Forties Man with their Forties stall, French Cowboy-Woman and Fifties-Man with their stall, and so on. And the clothes are just amazing (especially if you are really tiny but they do have some large sizes)
It costs a quid to get in, and I will have some CDs there, and will be ravaging the racks in between sets
http://www.doodlebugvintage.com
I'm going to busk at the Doodlebug Vintage Fair in Barnet (!0 Wood Street) this Sunday 12th October; one set at two and another at three.
I did a posting about it a few weeks ago; I'd seen it advertised and not bothered to go because I thought it would be a glorified jumble sale. One morning I went in anyway and was amazed, not just by the clothes but also by the stallholders, who were dressed in the gear- Forties Woman and Forties Man with their Forties stall, French Cowboy-Woman and Fifties-Man with their stall, and so on. And the clothes are just amazing (especially if you are really tiny but they do have some large sizes)
It costs a quid to get in, and I will have some CDs there, and will be ravaging the racks in between sets
http://www.doodlebugvintage.com
Monday, October 06, 2008
Three-posting Day
A bit like Sherlock Holmes and his two-pipe problem I post a lot when I have something that I am reluctant to do.
It's Friday's lecture for the University of the East, Vocals and the Songwriter. I know what I want to say, and how I'm going to say it. But it's just the sitting down and writing it.
So there I was, in the garden, raking leaves, and thinking about how Gyms secretly link to the National Grid and sell the electricity that everyone generates while exercising. I was trying to get rid of some bits of fox poo that studded the grass, and before I hit on the idea of kicking it into the bushes at the side of the garden, I got some on my white gardening gloves, which meant I had to put them in the washing machine. I put my pink Timberlands in there too to try to get rid of the coffee stains, and listened while they booted the insides of the machine like bodiless Skinheads.
Later, I noticed a little black seed from one of those plants that has pointy pods that explode and ping seeds all over the place; this one had lodged in the corner of my eye and I debated leaving it there to grow a plant, just to see if anyone said anything or everyone was just too polite.
By then, it was far too late to start writing my lecture, and I simply had to put it on to tomorrow's to-do list instead.
It's Friday's lecture for the University of the East, Vocals and the Songwriter. I know what I want to say, and how I'm going to say it. But it's just the sitting down and writing it.
So there I was, in the garden, raking leaves, and thinking about how Gyms secretly link to the National Grid and sell the electricity that everyone generates while exercising. I was trying to get rid of some bits of fox poo that studded the grass, and before I hit on the idea of kicking it into the bushes at the side of the garden, I got some on my white gardening gloves, which meant I had to put them in the washing machine. I put my pink Timberlands in there too to try to get rid of the coffee stains, and listened while they booted the insides of the machine like bodiless Skinheads.
Later, I noticed a little black seed from one of those plants that has pointy pods that explode and ping seeds all over the place; this one had lodged in the corner of my eye and I debated leaving it there to grow a plant, just to see if anyone said anything or everyone was just too polite.
By then, it was far too late to start writing my lecture, and I simply had to put it on to tomorrow's to-do list instead.
Voiceprint
If you can't get the CD from Amazon, Voiceprint have a website and it can be ordered from them instead
http://www.voiceprint.co.uk
http://www.voiceprint.co.uk
Basket
One of the weekend papers, I can't remember which, does a feature on stars' shopping baskets, which comments on the healthiness or not-healthiness of what's within.
I'm sure they just make it up!
Well, in an absence of an invitation to divulge my own buying habits, here is the McCookerybook diet for today. This is what really was in my wire basket, mostly because of what was on special offer:
Giant White Bap, filled with Crunchy Nut Cornflakes and Mango
and
Bleach'n'Catfood Dipping Sauce
Yum! Can't wait!
Betcha wanta come round mine for lunch! Bring a bottle of Nail Polish Remover to wash it all down with!
Actually I should be bigging up the CD which is officially out today but I can't remember how to program a link. I've got Mike Slocombe's book on my lap, and I'll do it later.
Also: Get well soon Joby. I liked your missive about the Carry On Hospital experience, which managed to be both funny and not funny at the same time. How I wish we had some recordings of Joby and the Hooligans! Do you think they recorded that live broadcast we did for Radio Falmer where to dog took such an exception to Steve and his ukelele?
I'm sure they just make it up!
Well, in an absence of an invitation to divulge my own buying habits, here is the McCookerybook diet for today. This is what really was in my wire basket, mostly because of what was on special offer:
Giant White Bap, filled with Crunchy Nut Cornflakes and Mango
and
Bleach'n'Catfood Dipping Sauce
Yum! Can't wait!
Betcha wanta come round mine for lunch! Bring a bottle of Nail Polish Remover to wash it all down with!
Actually I should be bigging up the CD which is officially out today but I can't remember how to program a link. I've got Mike Slocombe's book on my lap, and I'll do it later.
Also: Get well soon Joby. I liked your missive about the Carry On Hospital experience, which managed to be both funny and not funny at the same time. How I wish we had some recordings of Joby and the Hooligans! Do you think they recorded that live broadcast we did for Radio Falmer where to dog took such an exception to Steve and his ukelele?
Sunday, October 05, 2008
Ewan McGregor
Four years ago I was an Crieff in Scotland.
The Highland Games were on and it was chucking it down, nasty cold knife rain, and I thought about buying a warm waterproof jacket.
In the warm waterproof jacket shop I saw just the thing, and I tried it on.
'Ewan McGregor tried that on five minutes ago', said the sales assistant smugly, assured of a sale by this provenance.
I looked impressed, but the jacket just didn't fit so I took off and returned it to its rail.
I told lots of people the story, and watched how excited they got; I didn't dare admit that I hadn't a clue who he was.
A couple of years later I learned that he was a Hollywood film star, who had been born and brought up in Crieff, and he was there because he had been invited as the Highland Games Chieftain by the organisers, a courtesy title that they bestowed each year on somebody grand.
The Highland Games were on and it was chucking it down, nasty cold knife rain, and I thought about buying a warm waterproof jacket.
In the warm waterproof jacket shop I saw just the thing, and I tried it on.
'Ewan McGregor tried that on five minutes ago', said the sales assistant smugly, assured of a sale by this provenance.
I looked impressed, but the jacket just didn't fit so I took off and returned it to its rail.
I told lots of people the story, and watched how excited they got; I didn't dare admit that I hadn't a clue who he was.
A couple of years later I learned that he was a Hollywood film star, who had been born and brought up in Crieff, and he was there because he had been invited as the Highland Games Chieftain by the organisers, a courtesy title that they bestowed each year on somebody grand.
Magic
Diana is unbelievable! She is going to India for three months.
'I have taken out a hundred year lease on a house in the desert', she told me.
She is going to build a music school for children.
Wow.
'I have taken out a hundred year lease on a house in the desert', she told me.
She is going to build a music school for children.
Wow.
Saturday, October 04, 2008
Juggling
After an intense morning at the University of the East, I went home and made a chocolate cake for Gina with two dinosaur-shaped candles, which I took over to her and her girls in the evening. we were both tired, but we sat and made juggling balls out of felted wool, a soothing way to spend an evening. You tease out wisps of dyed wool, make a cloud of white wool enclosed in a thin veil of coloured wool, and then roll it between your palms, dampened in warm water, until it compacts into a solid sphere, which you rinse in cold water and leave to dry. You end up with a folksy-crafty juggling ball, or even a giant felt bead sortofathing. It was a relaxing way to spend an evening and made me want to start knitting again.
I woke this morning to a call from Diana, suggesting a morning dog-walk. I felt far too lazy; I was slobbing about with a huge cup of tea and the newspaper avoiding doing anything that might make me feel awake. So we are doing that this afternoon; I've been to the market to load up on black grapes, tomatoes and bananas, and I'm listening to 'Groovy' Joe Poovey and contemplating bleeding the radiators, something I've never done and something that appears terrifying. Perhaps I've watched too many Laurel and Hardy films that end up with Stan trapped for ever plugging a ferocious leak with his thumb, but I've been spending a lot of time planning disaster-management strategies and imagining carpets sodden with rust-coloured splobbly gungey glob.
What's more, I've no idea where the radiator key is; I've looked and looked in my imagination and just can't find it anywhere.
Oh dammit, gonna wait till after dog-walking. I'm going to have another giant cup of tea and lace on my stout boots, gird up my loins, kilt up my kirtle, hoist the mainbrace, tack against the wind, stem the running nose, and march to a different drum across Highgate Woods. If only the dogs knew they were walking me, instead of the other way round!
I woke this morning to a call from Diana, suggesting a morning dog-walk. I felt far too lazy; I was slobbing about with a huge cup of tea and the newspaper avoiding doing anything that might make me feel awake. So we are doing that this afternoon; I've been to the market to load up on black grapes, tomatoes and bananas, and I'm listening to 'Groovy' Joe Poovey and contemplating bleeding the radiators, something I've never done and something that appears terrifying. Perhaps I've watched too many Laurel and Hardy films that end up with Stan trapped for ever plugging a ferocious leak with his thumb, but I've been spending a lot of time planning disaster-management strategies and imagining carpets sodden with rust-coloured splobbly gungey glob.
What's more, I've no idea where the radiator key is; I've looked and looked in my imagination and just can't find it anywhere.
Oh dammit, gonna wait till after dog-walking. I'm going to have another giant cup of tea and lace on my stout boots, gird up my loins, kilt up my kirtle, hoist the mainbrace, tack against the wind, stem the running nose, and march to a different drum across Highgate Woods. If only the dogs knew they were walking me, instead of the other way round!
Friday, October 03, 2008
The Toybox in Bounds Green
Katy texted me yesterday afternoon, 'Can you come to Robert's night in Bounds Green?'
'Why not?' I thought, even though I was tired. We were about to write a song in the Songlab.
After whizzing home for a plate of pasta, I slung the axe into the vehicle (the evening axe; the daytime one was back home) and took off to the Ranelagh Arms, where there was a boisterous crowd listening to a man playing a red ukelele. The night is called the Toybox, and is a night of music, poetry and other stuff. Robert apologised for the low microphone volume 'He hasn't got a very nice voice', he whispered.
Katy was full of energy and was sporting an enameled bird badge a bit like mine; I'd missed her set but we threw ourselves into the proceedings anyay.
The next act was Simply Grey, Robert's Uncle Lawrence who gave him his first ever guitar, and his mate. They played a stormin' grey-haired set of Chuck Berry covers and the like, and got everyone up dancing; a tall Tibetan-looking chap with a hat sat calmly playing drums in the background. The stage area was crowded with instruments and leads, and people sat at the back tucking into huge plates with potatoes, gravy and other filling-looking stuff. It was a bit like a big, wild, living room.
When I got the Gretsch out, Robert's uncle Lawrence had to come over and talk nerdy-talk for a while; his Country Gentleman was in a case at the back of the stage but we couldn't get to it, as it was hemmed in by a keyboard, mixing desk, sundry leads and Robert.
I played a little set: Bad Day, Memento Mori (which the crowd seemed to really like) Heaven Avenue (with Robert on drums, Katy on BVs and the drummer chap on tambourine), and Love on the Wind. It was the Wild West, like Offline used to be at the Dogstar, but fun, and a really good ending to a day when nothing went wrong, unexpectedly.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Riffin' on Walnut Whips
My heart leapt as I saw a Walnut Whip 3-pack tucked under my car seat.
My heart sank as I realised it was empty.
My heart leapt as I realised that, had it been full, I would not have been able to eat them anyway, as they are forbidden under the no-cholesterol regime.
My heart sank as I realised it was empty.
My heart leapt as I realised that, had it been full, I would not have been able to eat them anyway, as they are forbidden under the no-cholesterol regime.
At My Desk
Here I am at my desk at the University of the East, surrounded by toys and photocopies, and eating Floral Gums. Luckily, I am not required to speak to anyone at present, as I have shovelled a mouthload in, and my teeth are currently stuck together, albeit fragrantly.
I was expecting a terrible day yesterday; things spun a little out of control and my guitar gently wept for a while.
I woke this morning with a case of rampant pessimism, all ready to have a Huge Fight Because I Had Not Been Allocated A Parking Permit This Year.
Alas, this morning when I went to the help desk to ask, there it was waiting for me.
All the other anticipated problems are melting away (am I speaking too soon?) with Grumps being uncharacteristically cheerful, and a consequent overbudget of time. Shall I go to TK Maxx? I haven't got any money to spend but rummaging is good bicep exercise in this day and age of bingo-wing fear.
Or I could plan this evening's song writing workshop; but I sort of have... I bought today's Daily Mirror to harvest a headline from in order to work up a song.
My 'to-do' list is at home sunbathing on my makeshift desk by the window.
I could tidy the office but then it wouldn't be fun to rediscover lost papers.
Actually, I have a guitar here, and I'm going to get it out and play it until someone knocks on the door to tell me to shut up.
See ya later!
I was expecting a terrible day yesterday; things spun a little out of control and my guitar gently wept for a while.
I woke this morning with a case of rampant pessimism, all ready to have a Huge Fight Because I Had Not Been Allocated A Parking Permit This Year.
Alas, this morning when I went to the help desk to ask, there it was waiting for me.
All the other anticipated problems are melting away (am I speaking too soon?) with Grumps being uncharacteristically cheerful, and a consequent overbudget of time. Shall I go to TK Maxx? I haven't got any money to spend but rummaging is good bicep exercise in this day and age of bingo-wing fear.
Or I could plan this evening's song writing workshop; but I sort of have... I bought today's Daily Mirror to harvest a headline from in order to work up a song.
My 'to-do' list is at home sunbathing on my makeshift desk by the window.
I could tidy the office but then it wouldn't be fun to rediscover lost papers.
Actually, I have a guitar here, and I'm going to get it out and play it until someone knocks on the door to tell me to shut up.
See ya later!
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
More scuppering, this time not self
Well...
the album is out officially on Monday.
But Amazon calls it Poetry and Rhyme now... by Helen McCookery Book
Borders calls it Poems and Rhymes by Helen McCookerybook
Voiceprint calls it Poetry and Rhyme by Helen McCookerybook
Wot the heck! I've got three names anyway myself, what's wrong with sprinkling a few album titles and variations on the theme of McCookerybook about the place?
I am delighted to say that I now have an agent to book gigs, Bob Paterson, and I am very, very happy about that.
His website is http://www.bpa-live.com
the album is out officially on Monday.
But Amazon calls it Poetry and Rhyme now... by Helen McCookery Book
Borders calls it Poems and Rhymes by Helen McCookerybook
Voiceprint calls it Poetry and Rhyme by Helen McCookerybook
Wot the heck! I've got three names anyway myself, what's wrong with sprinkling a few album titles and variations on the theme of McCookerybook about the place?
I am delighted to say that I now have an agent to book gigs, Bob Paterson, and I am very, very happy about that.
His website is http://www.bpa-live.com
What the Well-Dressed Squirrel will be Wearing This Autumn
On the way round to Gina's this morning for coffee, I spotted these scary guys who look suspiciously more clued up about the economy than Britain's bankers do.
Gina was in fine form, though a little sad that one of her two-kitten set was gobbled up by an urban fox recently. Only the little black chap survived, and he nestled sweetly on the back of the chair as we chatted and yakked our way through two and a half cups of coffee each. She showed me her latest pop video, which has some lovely lighting effects:; she builds little devices to get what she needs to dramatise her films. She is very creative: one of her films has her riding her bicycle through central London, with a camera on each toe of her boots!
I dashed back home for an appointment at the bank, only to discover that the woman had written it in the wrong day in the diary, but I fought back the desire to snap at her in irritation and bought a USB guitar lead instead so I can set up the computer in the kitchen and record riffs while stirring the ravioli. I may be busking at the next Vintage Clothing Fair in Barnet Church Hall on 12th October, and I can't decide whether to do it old fashioned and just yell and thrash, or whether to take the technical route and buy a practice amp to play through. Yelling in the stairwell, which has a mega-echo, is the most tempting and cheapest option, and I think I'll go for that probably.
I'd better go downstairs. I made a cup of tea 20 minutes ago and it must be getting cold.
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