I can't believe that I'm writing a post about something as dull as a purse. But I worked hard all weekend and I've been at work this morning seeing some students and my jaw is throbbing and the purse has become important for a nanosecond.
Being of Scottish extraction (not just for convenience to bask in the glory of Murray's win: good for him but the loser was more gracious) I am allowed to say that Scottish people are famed for being stingy. I am no exception and I have needed a new purse for approximately six months. The old one had a shredded lining that meant that I was constantly posting coins between the lining and the leather and wondering where the jingling was coming from when I couldn't see any money in there.
It was scuffed, and was turning from bright pink to grey with no in-between colour, although it was soft and sweet, but that's not exactly what you want from a purse.
Braving the smells of raw sewage wafting through the hot morning air, I swam through the East London haze into TK Maxx at Gallion's Reach and coughed up the princely sum of 12 quid for a natty blue leather item.
The only problem is, I spent the money on the purse and now I haven't got any to put in it.
See what I mean?
Monday, July 08, 2013
Sunday, July 07, 2013
More Tickets Added for Stageit Kitchen Show
I Have just added some more tickets for the Stageit kitchen show next Sunday 14th July. It's easy to register and you pay almost nothing unless you feel like tipping.
Please join me at teatime, 5.45!
http://www.stageit.com/helenmccookerybook/live_from_my_kitchen/25271
Please join me at teatime, 5.45!
http://www.stageit.com/helenmccookerybook/live_from_my_kitchen/25271
Detective Stories
I'm posting late at night because I've had my fill of gruesome detective paperbacks from the charity shops.
Saturday, July 06, 2013
Polishing My Guitar
364 days a year, I really don't feel like polishing guitars. It is an activity similar to stuffing mushrooms, which many years ago Shirley Conran observed "Life's too short for...".
Yesterday, however, I was gripped by a need to nurture my old Hofner acoustic; not only that, but I was patient enough to replace its broken string!
Guitars are full of nooks and crannies as well as sweeping curves; I carefully cleaned behind its ears and under its tuning pegs and buffed it to a chestnut shine. It's on a stand now, looking rather pleased with itself. It wasn't keen on playing skiffle this evening, however. I don't know why it's being so snooty because I think it was made in that era, some time around the 1960s. Maybe it needs a rest after its thorough scrubbing; ill give it another go tomorrow.
Yesterday, however, I was gripped by a need to nurture my old Hofner acoustic; not only that, but I was patient enough to replace its broken string!
Guitars are full of nooks and crannies as well as sweeping curves; I carefully cleaned behind its ears and under its tuning pegs and buffed it to a chestnut shine. It's on a stand now, looking rather pleased with itself. It wasn't keen on playing skiffle this evening, however. I don't know why it's being so snooty because I think it was made in that era, some time around the 1960s. Maybe it needs a rest after its thorough scrubbing; ill give it another go tomorrow.
Normally
Normally when it's sunny in summer nobody reads this blog. Either the tennis is unappealing this afternoon, or the sun is only shining over my back yard and not over yours...
Posy
I awoke this morning to the aroma of a posy of men's aftershaves; Offsprog Two has a couple of Young Chaps dormitorying here with her. They arrive late at night, drink pints of tea; they leave early in the morning, after spiriting towels upstairs like fakirs of old collecting magic carpets to take them to far-away lands.
I sat out with the bees for hours, stopping for the occasional ice cream sanctioned by oral surgery on Tuesday that has left me with a mouth full of prickly stitches. I have been reading a PHD and I have just finished it. I read for six hours, almost non-stop, and now I feel that I know it well enough to examine it on Tuesday. This is the second time I've read it, this time noting questions I will be asking the candidate.
Now I can't decide what to do. no point in doing housework until the young people head off to do something else for a few days; they are clean and polite and tidy too, but I'm not sure what of the subtle debris is rubbish and what is precious treasure until they leave.
Walkies... hmm, despite taking Arnica furiously since Tuesday I have a brightly-coloured bruise that I am conscious of; perhaps an evening stroll would be better.
Songies? Possibly, possibly; though mouth a bit sore for expressive roarings.
As always, the decision will be made with a cup of tea in my hand.
I sat out with the bees for hours, stopping for the occasional ice cream sanctioned by oral surgery on Tuesday that has left me with a mouth full of prickly stitches. I have been reading a PHD and I have just finished it. I read for six hours, almost non-stop, and now I feel that I know it well enough to examine it on Tuesday. This is the second time I've read it, this time noting questions I will be asking the candidate.
Now I can't decide what to do. no point in doing housework until the young people head off to do something else for a few days; they are clean and polite and tidy too, but I'm not sure what of the subtle debris is rubbish and what is precious treasure until they leave.
Walkies... hmm, despite taking Arnica furiously since Tuesday I have a brightly-coloured bruise that I am conscious of; perhaps an evening stroll would be better.
Songies? Possibly, possibly; though mouth a bit sore for expressive roarings.
As always, the decision will be made with a cup of tea in my hand.
Friday, July 05, 2013
Bees
Under the eaves of next door's house, there lives a swarm of bees. Next door aren't around a lot, and it's not a swarm of wasps, so I have decided to leave them bee (ahem) as they are minding their own business at the moment.
About 15 of them are guarding the entrance to the nest; they rotate around each other, sometimes going inside and sometimes not. I'm slightly afraid of them and don't want to anger them. The unruly clematis is going untrimmed below them.
Early this morning before starting work, I went out to read a book in the sunshine. I sat still and didn't flap about, imagining the bees as tiny bulls that would become enraged by any sort of volatile activity.
Round and round they flew, covering all flight paths that might lead to their precious queen.
As I sat reading, I noticed that every so often, one of them would break away from the crew and fly over, measuring the interloper: up, down, from side to side and finally, underneath the bench.
It is not I who observes the bees; they are watching me and making sure that I do not become an enemy.
I am being careful.
About 15 of them are guarding the entrance to the nest; they rotate around each other, sometimes going inside and sometimes not. I'm slightly afraid of them and don't want to anger them. The unruly clematis is going untrimmed below them.
Early this morning before starting work, I went out to read a book in the sunshine. I sat still and didn't flap about, imagining the bees as tiny bulls that would become enraged by any sort of volatile activity.
Round and round they flew, covering all flight paths that might lead to their precious queen.
As I sat reading, I noticed that every so often, one of them would break away from the crew and fly over, measuring the interloper: up, down, from side to side and finally, underneath the bench.
It is not I who observes the bees; they are watching me and making sure that I do not become an enemy.
I am being careful.
Thursday, July 04, 2013
From Glastonbury
Never thought I'd have one of these! Thank you to The Daintees for inviting me up to sing The Airship Song http://music.daintees.co.uk/track/once-i-loved-a-sailor
Rrrants at the Camden Head on Monday
Here are some photos from Monday. Lester Square provided some atmospheric guitarisms for Paul Eccentric's dark story, which was accompanied by the burlesque dancer Holly; there was a very funny contribution from a ukelele-playing woman from St Albans (will tell you her name later) who is clearly being driven mad by life. Amongst various poets and comedians, the ever-barmy Lobby Ludd stood out, as usual; he even managed to almost get through a whole song this time!
I played some new songs with Martin by my side and at the end The Antipoet accompanied a humdingin' Freight Train to send everyone home.
Rrrants nights are very special nights, always, and I love playing them. Thanks to the troops who came along to support the night- Lucie Sieger and friends, Dubulah, Champagne Friend, Wilky, and of course, MArtin, now back off on his songster travels.
I'm retiring for the day- got a face like Oor Wullie Sookin' a Sweetie, now beginning to be decorated by some attractive blue and purple bruising. I don't intend to poke my nose out of the door this weekend!
I played some new songs with Martin by my side and at the end The Antipoet accompanied a humdingin' Freight Train to send everyone home.
Rrrants nights are very special nights, always, and I love playing them. Thanks to the troops who came along to support the night- Lucie Sieger and friends, Dubulah, Champagne Friend, Wilky, and of course, MArtin, now back off on his songster travels.
I'm retiring for the day- got a face like Oor Wullie Sookin' a Sweetie, now beginning to be decorated by some attractive blue and purple bruising. I don't intend to poke my nose out of the door this weekend!
Wednesday, July 03, 2013
Stones at Glastonbury (on telly)
There will be typos today, I think; I'm using an iPad and Blogger doesn't like 'em.
I got offered tickets for The Stones this morning ( thanks Nova Castria) but I'm zonked from painkillers and taking it easy: writing this doesn't seem difficult but replying to texts does! I look like The Elephant Man this morning after yesterday's small op on my jaw and I'm barricaded in the hoose until I look normal again.
The Stones... on TV we could see men whose faces looked many years older than their ages and whose bodies looked many years younger. Mick Jagger moves like the dancer he is (the male precursor to Madonna perhaps: all sexy but not that great a voice). Ron and Keith- well, they were stiff and elderly and especially at the beginning of the Glastonbury set, they looked downright lazy.
Apart from their hits, I don't know their music very well and the first part of theircsetvwas a mystery to me- and very definitely a case of The Emperor's New Clothes (or old clothes, but we're all heading there, aren't we?). I think I am the only person in the world who never has liked the Stones. From the outset, Mick's conceited persona has been deeply unappealing. I was a bit too young to think him sexy and later, getting into James Brown, Little Richard and Chuck Berry, I preferred the black originals to the white copies. Then the NME gave away a flexidisc of some songs from Exile on Main Street and I loved the production, which was harsh and spontaneous sounding. But even though I played it to oblivion, it didn't make me a Stones fan. Like floral settees, Whiskey, Mills and Boon novels, Hunters wellies ( just autocorrected to 'willies' BTW, perish the thought), the whole point of them has passed me by.
Later in their Glastonbury set, there were hits which seemed to re-energise the semi-comatose guitarists and I could see their appeal. Mick dances really hard and I am full of admiration for his physical fitness and stamina. But would I want to go to see them play? Nope, not even for the dubious cachet of 'I've seen the Stones play'. And not even 'No, because so many of their songs are so misogynisyic'. That's rock 'n'roll'n'rap and it's inescapable (althought the irony of talking about 1970s feminists epiphanies while dancing to Under My Thumb, at the conference on Tuesday was quite, well, ironic).
Took years to persuade them to play and now they've done it? Ring-a-ding-ding, rich greedy white men who sing and play instruments! You of all people have profited from the hippies and the rockers alike when you were all young. Hats off to you for still doing it; I'm glad so many punters had their dream come true and watched their fave band. I'm off to watch little bands in pubs!
(Sorry for the rather grumpy rantiness above; more posting later in a more positive vein)
I got offered tickets for The Stones this morning ( thanks Nova Castria) but I'm zonked from painkillers and taking it easy: writing this doesn't seem difficult but replying to texts does! I look like The Elephant Man this morning after yesterday's small op on my jaw and I'm barricaded in the hoose until I look normal again.
The Stones... on TV we could see men whose faces looked many years older than their ages and whose bodies looked many years younger. Mick Jagger moves like the dancer he is (the male precursor to Madonna perhaps: all sexy but not that great a voice). Ron and Keith- well, they were stiff and elderly and especially at the beginning of the Glastonbury set, they looked downright lazy.
Apart from their hits, I don't know their music very well and the first part of theircsetvwas a mystery to me- and very definitely a case of The Emperor's New Clothes (or old clothes, but we're all heading there, aren't we?). I think I am the only person in the world who never has liked the Stones. From the outset, Mick's conceited persona has been deeply unappealing. I was a bit too young to think him sexy and later, getting into James Brown, Little Richard and Chuck Berry, I preferred the black originals to the white copies. Then the NME gave away a flexidisc of some songs from Exile on Main Street and I loved the production, which was harsh and spontaneous sounding. But even though I played it to oblivion, it didn't make me a Stones fan. Like floral settees, Whiskey, Mills and Boon novels, Hunters wellies ( just autocorrected to 'willies' BTW, perish the thought), the whole point of them has passed me by.
Later in their Glastonbury set, there were hits which seemed to re-energise the semi-comatose guitarists and I could see their appeal. Mick dances really hard and I am full of admiration for his physical fitness and stamina. But would I want to go to see them play? Nope, not even for the dubious cachet of 'I've seen the Stones play'. And not even 'No, because so many of their songs are so misogynisyic'. That's rock 'n'roll'n'rap and it's inescapable (althought the irony of talking about 1970s feminists epiphanies while dancing to Under My Thumb, at the conference on Tuesday was quite, well, ironic).
Took years to persuade them to play and now they've done it? Ring-a-ding-ding, rich greedy white men who sing and play instruments! You of all people have profited from the hippies and the rockers alike when you were all young. Hats off to you for still doing it; I'm glad so many punters had their dream come true and watched their fave band. I'm off to watch little bands in pubs!
(Sorry for the rather grumpy rantiness above; more posting later in a more positive vein)
Monday, July 01, 2013
California Star: Lyric Sheet
This was supposed to be printed in the Glastonbury Free Press, a daily paper that should have been printed on a vintage Heidelberg press. The press said No, and the paper wasn't printed. A limited edition of this might appear in the near future...
Pix from Glastonbury Etc
That was the Acoustic Tent at Glastonbury on Friday afternoon. Naively perhaps (though I have been to very few festivals) I thought that the Acoustic Tent would be a small white marquee like they have in Miss Marple for the jam competitions at village fetes, with stoned people wandering in and out as the artists played. I was shocked at the size of all the venues, let alone this 'tent' which was about ten times the size of most London venues that people would say were large. the stage was half the length of a station platform! It was run like clockwork- artists unload at one end, up the ramp, ten minutes change over with a five minutes... four minutes... three minutes... thing going on; play set in allotted time, then off the other side, down the ramp, load up van and park. Thank you to Martin for inviting me along and for asking me on stage to sing Charlie Poole's Airship Song. What an honour that was! Later we went along to see Tom Tom Club and they put in a mighty fine set. Big up Tina Weymouth for being a super-cool bass player who puts all the notes in the right places and doesn't waste anything in the process: she has the groove, without a doubt.
Below is June's photo of the soundcheck at the Victoria Hall in settle- sitting eating cake (Victoria Sponge and Chocolate Cake) with Martin's daughter Phoebe and Willie Knox, the amazing Tour Manager who make sure everyone wakes up, gets up, gets out, and gets on with it. Three cheers for Willie and three cheers for The Daintees!
Camden Head Tonight
Bardaid Charity gig
Donations
100 Camden High Street- Camden Toob
Starts at 8
Will be playing new songs
Some with Martin
Think Lester Square playing too with Paul Eccentric
See you there!
Donations
100 Camden High Street- Camden Toob
Starts at 8
Will be playing new songs
Some with Martin
Think Lester Square playing too with Paul Eccentric
See you there!
Whirlwind Week
Settle: photo by Chalfont Don
What a week: it started with the Console-ing passions conference at Leicester De Montfort University (well, of course, it started with Monday but that was an admin/preparation day). The conference was fizzing with energy and I saw some really interesting presentations. At the end, 40 of us went for a curry, the repercussions of which lasted all week and are still with me now, but this is not a medical blog so nuff said about that!
It was a day's cross-country travel to Settle but John (guitar) and Kate (drums) from The Daintees were waiting on the platform at Leeds so we trained it through the hills with our mountain of black zip-up instrument cases and loaded them into the boot of a taxi whose slightly stunned driver had been recently deafened by a chain-saw accident (had we stumbled into Deliverance?).
Once we had collected ourselves and the rest of the entourage, we headed down to the Victoria Hall for the sound check. (I had narrowly avoided a red-face situation by mistaking the hotel's landscape gardening van for the tour bus and rushing out to do star-jumps on the gravel: noticed the gardener's puzzled expression just in time).
The host, Anne, had made cakes (what a welcome!) and the band set up and checked. The venue is lovely- an old Victorian music hall type venue with a balcony, a warren of back rooms, freshly painted and full of good vibes. The sound was crystal clear.
I played a set which I really enjoyed: the audience was a listening and smiling audience and The Daintees had packed the venue. The band went on and played a great set, joined later on by Martin's daughter Phoebe for Crocodile Cryer and later still by Mike Harding who wasn't keen on performing The Rochdale Cowboy even though Jim Hornsby had played on the original track (and Jim was on stage for several numbers). Mike turned out to be a really good blues harp player and rocked through a blues song with good heart and a lot of soul.
So back to the hotel, sitting round the table with our band stories, then off the next day through the rain to Liverpool.
The venue in Liverpool was the exact opposite: even the stairs were sticky and everything was well-worn and rock-black. The sound was crystal clear again and this night the band were extremely tight and punchy. A couple of women in the audience sang every song at the tops of their voices- they were great singers and it really added to the atmosphere. Martin was timing the set for Glastonbury the next day (only 35 minutes) and the show was smooth and immaculately played.
More later- it's breakfast time!
What a week: it started with the Console-ing passions conference at Leicester De Montfort University (well, of course, it started with Monday but that was an admin/preparation day). The conference was fizzing with energy and I saw some really interesting presentations. At the end, 40 of us went for a curry, the repercussions of which lasted all week and are still with me now, but this is not a medical blog so nuff said about that!
It was a day's cross-country travel to Settle but John (guitar) and Kate (drums) from The Daintees were waiting on the platform at Leeds so we trained it through the hills with our mountain of black zip-up instrument cases and loaded them into the boot of a taxi whose slightly stunned driver had been recently deafened by a chain-saw accident (had we stumbled into Deliverance?).
Once we had collected ourselves and the rest of the entourage, we headed down to the Victoria Hall for the sound check. (I had narrowly avoided a red-face situation by mistaking the hotel's landscape gardening van for the tour bus and rushing out to do star-jumps on the gravel: noticed the gardener's puzzled expression just in time).
The host, Anne, had made cakes (what a welcome!) and the band set up and checked. The venue is lovely- an old Victorian music hall type venue with a balcony, a warren of back rooms, freshly painted and full of good vibes. The sound was crystal clear.
I played a set which I really enjoyed: the audience was a listening and smiling audience and The Daintees had packed the venue. The band went on and played a great set, joined later on by Martin's daughter Phoebe for Crocodile Cryer and later still by Mike Harding who wasn't keen on performing The Rochdale Cowboy even though Jim Hornsby had played on the original track (and Jim was on stage for several numbers). Mike turned out to be a really good blues harp player and rocked through a blues song with good heart and a lot of soul.
So back to the hotel, sitting round the table with our band stories, then off the next day through the rain to Liverpool.
The venue in Liverpool was the exact opposite: even the stairs were sticky and everything was well-worn and rock-black. The sound was crystal clear again and this night the band were extremely tight and punchy. A couple of women in the audience sang every song at the tops of their voices- they were great singers and it really added to the atmosphere. Martin was timing the set for Glastonbury the next day (only 35 minutes) and the show was smooth and immaculately played.
More later- it's breakfast time!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)