I was in Edinburgh and I needed a new battery for my watch for the songwriting workshop I was to be doing. You can't hoick your iPhone out to check the time; you need to surreptitiously glance at your wrist, and my wind-up watch had given up the ghost. An old watch was back in service.
The first jewellers had the security gate half open- but also half closed, so I went to the next one.
Yes Madam, well send it away and get it back to you tomorrow.
No. So I walked round the block and went back to the first one.
Yes, they could do it on the spot.
But no, they didn't have a battery.
Next morning in Ayr I had time to kill and I trundled my suitcase into town. On the way I noticed that my soft guitar case had broken. I wondered if there was a music shop and just as I wondered, a music shop appeared on the corner of the street. Ayr Guitars (ho ho) was closed, to I went to the Post Office to send a CD off to be reviewed. Inside the Post Office was a vinyl shop, much to my surprise, and I got talking to the owner, who promotes gigs about the area. I left him a CD; he told me where the jewellers were and I trundled back down the street.
The first jeweller I passed changed the battery- but then told me he couldn't change my £20 note. So I had to go to the cashpoint and get a tenner out, then I had to go to Greggs to buy a roll to change the tenner into a fiver, and then back to the shop to pay the jeweller for the battery.
Phew.
By this time Ayr Guitars was open and I managed to get a new soft guitar case and leave the old one there to be thrown away.
The taxi that took me to work at the University was a welcome luxury.
I recognise you from January, said the taxi driver. You're the lady who stays at the Carrick Lodge Hotel.
A very ordinary sequence of events with some extraordinary minutiae embedded within. I can't work out which were surreal and which were not.
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Friday, May 30, 2014
Whitley Bay
It's been a relaxing afternoon after working today; Whitley Bay has some fab charity shops and the sun is shining.
Yesterday I said a sad goodbye to my job at the University of Scotland, where my tenure as External Examiner has come to an end. I have loved it, and the course team up there who are so capable and dedicated.
Yesterday I said a sad goodbye to my job at the University of Scotland, where my tenure as External Examiner has come to an end. I have loved it, and the course team up there who are so capable and dedicated.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Training
I've been on an awful lot of trains over the past couple of days, and been doing an awful lot of reading.
Interesting academic reading that's difficult to digest unless you're Ian position of having to concentrate, without distractions and Doritos.
Some of it has annoyed me; writers with authoritative voices aren't immune from writing rubbish, or to be academic about it, making their readers feel that what they have written does not engage them completely!
I have just read an article about Demo and Mod music, the bleeps coded music that is traded through an Internet subculture. The writer compares it to punk. Oh deary me.
That's akin to comparing moles with sandpaper.
Interesting academic reading that's difficult to digest unless you're Ian position of having to concentrate, without distractions and Doritos.
Some of it has annoyed me; writers with authoritative voices aren't immune from writing rubbish, or to be academic about it, making their readers feel that what they have written does not engage them completely!
I have just read an article about Demo and Mod music, the bleeps coded music that is traded through an Internet subculture. The writer compares it to punk. Oh deary me.
That's akin to comparing moles with sandpaper.
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Easy Listening
I have been reading about Stelios wanting to open an easySupermarket opposite East Croydon Station.
A few years ago one of the Universities that I work for was approached by Stelios regarding an easyRecordLabel.
Reader, I confess that I checked the calendar in my diary to see if it was April 1st, but it wasn't.
Unbelievable as it may seem, the idea wasn't put to bed: so watch this space!
A few years ago one of the Universities that I work for was approached by Stelios regarding an easyRecordLabel.
Reader, I confess that I checked the calendar in my diary to see if it was April 1st, but it wasn't.
Unbelievable as it may seem, the idea wasn't put to bed: so watch this space!
Monday, May 26, 2014
Snails
The snails are out, dancing, singing.
It's cold and damp; rain alternately drifts and thrashes and the rats, birds and squirrels are huddled in their nests because they don't like it.
'Hooray!' beam the snails with Farage-like bonhomie. 'Out to play!'.
Horns erect, they barge across the concrete paving towards the tender Hosta plant, charging up the plastic pot and baulking at the gravel around its roots.
Others pose on the edges of clay plant-pots, arms would be akimbo if they had them, soaking up the humid breeze that caresses their juicy grey and yellow bodies.
Snail kittens hatch, their frail snail-shells gradually hardening in the cool air. They snuggle in gritty corners, under bricks and between the bristles of the yard-brush. Soon they will make their way to young and tender shoots to eat their first meal.
Can you hear them singing their clumsy snail song?
'Tra-la!', they honk in voices we can't hear, 'It's our world, it's our world it's OURS!!'.
I watch from the kitchen window.
Could they be right?
It's cold and damp; rain alternately drifts and thrashes and the rats, birds and squirrels are huddled in their nests because they don't like it.
'Hooray!' beam the snails with Farage-like bonhomie. 'Out to play!'.
Horns erect, they barge across the concrete paving towards the tender Hosta plant, charging up the plastic pot and baulking at the gravel around its roots.
Others pose on the edges of clay plant-pots, arms would be akimbo if they had them, soaking up the humid breeze that caresses their juicy grey and yellow bodies.
Snail kittens hatch, their frail snail-shells gradually hardening in the cool air. They snuggle in gritty corners, under bricks and between the bristles of the yard-brush. Soon they will make their way to young and tender shoots to eat their first meal.
Can you hear them singing their clumsy snail song?
'Tra-la!', they honk in voices we can't hear, 'It's our world, it's our world it's OURS!!'.
I watch from the kitchen window.
Could they be right?
Sunday, May 25, 2014
Housework and Workwork
Two hours of External Examining done this morning; time for a spot of housework to clear the channels and then a bit more reading and listening later.
I have come back from tour with an addiction to Doritos.
I have come back from tour with an addiction to Doritos.
Saturday, May 24, 2014
Free Anarchy Skiffle Download
Free download of my own fave track.
The album features Martin Stephenson on guitar and ukulele, Jim Hornsby on Dobro (featured here) and guitar, John Cavener on double bass and Colin Mee on knobs, and all four on BVs.
Produced by Martin Stephenson, and as Colin says, 'C*ck on!'
https://helenmccookerybook.bandcamp.com/track/anarchy-skiffle
Take a listen to the rest of the tracks while you're there!
The album features Martin Stephenson on guitar and ukulele, Jim Hornsby on Dobro (featured here) and guitar, John Cavener on double bass and Colin Mee on knobs, and all four on BVs.
Produced by Martin Stephenson, and as Colin says, 'C*ck on!'
https://helenmccookerybook.bandcamp.com/track/anarchy-skiffle
Take a listen to the rest of the tracks while you're there!
Friday, May 23, 2014
Connecting The Turntable Up
I can't believe it, but I actually finished the marking yesterday evening. I think this may be connected to the huge thunderstorm that happened while I was doing it- an electric surge powered me up to superhuman levels.
The fact that I didn't even notice the thunderstorm due to wearing ear-protectors to aid my concentration is beside the point.
Today has been a rest day- or rather a bits'n'pieces day. I've gazed at car prices. My car is ready to move on but second-hand car prices are just out of reach at the moment. I've put a hold on my gas bill to stop two companies charging me at once (Ovo isn't as shiny as they'd like us to believe). I've sent passport and driving licence photos all over the place, because nobody believes who you are any more. I've been for a long walk with Offsprog One and had lunch with her in a barn. I sorted out the strange look of the Bandcamp page too.
And I've connected up the speakers to the turntable but getting the vinyl out is a process of excavation that I don't feel up to at the moment. But it works! They are funny speakers, with a flat sound for mixing, but I don't mind that because any vinyl is better than no vinyl.
And I did another nice thing this week- making music with Gina Birch: just adding some bits to her tracks for her to deconstruct. The music is fab- at least one of the tracks sounds to me as though it is entirely finished. Some of what I've done is melody, some little harmonies and on Wednesday, beats and a bass-line. Fun- and I've got the beat bug again.
The fact that I didn't even notice the thunderstorm due to wearing ear-protectors to aid my concentration is beside the point.
Today has been a rest day- or rather a bits'n'pieces day. I've gazed at car prices. My car is ready to move on but second-hand car prices are just out of reach at the moment. I've put a hold on my gas bill to stop two companies charging me at once (Ovo isn't as shiny as they'd like us to believe). I've sent passport and driving licence photos all over the place, because nobody believes who you are any more. I've been for a long walk with Offsprog One and had lunch with her in a barn. I sorted out the strange look of the Bandcamp page too.
And I've connected up the speakers to the turntable but getting the vinyl out is a process of excavation that I don't feel up to at the moment. But it works! They are funny speakers, with a flat sound for mixing, but I don't mind that because any vinyl is better than no vinyl.
And I did another nice thing this week- making music with Gina Birch: just adding some bits to her tracks for her to deconstruct. The music is fab- at least one of the tracks sounds to me as though it is entirely finished. Some of what I've done is melody, some little harmonies and on Wednesday, beats and a bass-line. Fun- and I've got the beat bug again.
Thursday, May 22, 2014
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Anarchy Skiffle Album Now Available On Bandcamp
The Anarchy Skiffle album is now on Bandcamp to listen to and/or download. Features Helen McCookerybook, Martin G Stephenson Jim Hornsby and John Cavener. recorded by Colin Mee and Mark Lough and produced by Martin Stephenson
Signed CDs also available!
(it's not 22 tracks, it's 11 - I don't know why it says that- will have to fix it tomorrow.)
http://helenmccookerybook.bandcamp.com/album/anarchy-skiffle
Monday, May 19, 2014
Cupcakes and Coding
We were walking through Hoxton, through a tide of young bearded men, many with bikes.
We fantasised about an app they have on their laptops that repels females by emitting an almost inaudible repelling-signal.
In the mating season, they switch it off until the business is done, aiming to attract young women who love coding- but who also bake cupcakes.
Feminists, perhaps (it's very trendy to be one of those).
Later in life, they will settle down with the perhaps-feminists in the hope that they'll forget about the coding bit and just make cupcakes; and the beardy-mans will go out hunting, slaying startups with their mighty htmls!
We fantasised about an app they have on their laptops that repels females by emitting an almost inaudible repelling-signal.
In the mating season, they switch it off until the business is done, aiming to attract young women who love coding- but who also bake cupcakes.
Feminists, perhaps (it's very trendy to be one of those).
Later in life, they will settle down with the perhaps-feminists in the hope that they'll forget about the coding bit and just make cupcakes; and the beardy-mans will go out hunting, slaying startups with their mighty htmls!
Sunday, May 18, 2014
A Black Swan in Reading
I tried to photograph the black swan in Reading but it didn't want to know: it turned its back on me and even asking its white pals to send it over didn't work.
The breakfast in the hotel cost a horrifying £15.95. Just across the road, a stuffed cafe was selling breakfast for £3.51.
Crazy prices in every way.
We drove to Brighton, the running gags running away with us: Chris's pride in parsimony, Martin's black curly wig, a gift from June, scaring the yummy mummies on the phone in their Minis, and John and Kate's dinner lady friend who stuttered for ages trying to say 'Chipolatas' before eventually settling on 'Those little sausages'.
The Haunt in Brighton was our last destination. Offsprog One played there with her band Royal Limp; at first sight it seemed scruffy and dead but as the band sound-checked, the sound engineer brought it to life because he took such care over what he was doing. We'd eaten chips on the beach; the town was packed with lobster-coloured tourists.
What a lovely last gig. Peter and Jonathan and Jill, Steph and Sara and lots of Daintees mates came down. Last time for the punky skiffle set, then I went up to the closed-off balcony and danced my socks off to 'I Can See'; Sara, who is a pal from years ago, came up too and we watched from above.
The encore was 'Rain', sung by the whole audience; the load-up for the last time, hugs to Mike and June, back in the bus for the last time and home to sleep it all off.
Marking today-fifty essays to get through this week.
Boo.
The breakfast in the hotel cost a horrifying £15.95. Just across the road, a stuffed cafe was selling breakfast for £3.51.
Crazy prices in every way.
We drove to Brighton, the running gags running away with us: Chris's pride in parsimony, Martin's black curly wig, a gift from June, scaring the yummy mummies on the phone in their Minis, and John and Kate's dinner lady friend who stuttered for ages trying to say 'Chipolatas' before eventually settling on 'Those little sausages'.
The Haunt in Brighton was our last destination. Offsprog One played there with her band Royal Limp; at first sight it seemed scruffy and dead but as the band sound-checked, the sound engineer brought it to life because he took such care over what he was doing. We'd eaten chips on the beach; the town was packed with lobster-coloured tourists.
What a lovely last gig. Peter and Jonathan and Jill, Steph and Sara and lots of Daintees mates came down. Last time for the punky skiffle set, then I went up to the closed-off balcony and danced my socks off to 'I Can See'; Sara, who is a pal from years ago, came up too and we watched from above.
The encore was 'Rain', sung by the whole audience; the load-up for the last time, hugs to Mike and June, back in the bus for the last time and home to sleep it all off.
Marking today-fifty essays to get through this week.
Boo.
Thursday, May 15, 2014
John from El Cid- Sartorial Style, Seventies Chic
Weirdness in Birmingham
Well we haven't finished the tour yet; is this tempting fate?
But Birmingham has to take the biscuit for a weird experience.
We were booked into the city's worst hotel, the Paragon, which featured a hole in the bath in Chris's room, an electric socket falling off the wall and serious damp issues in John and Kate's room, a full-on argument going on next to Willie's room, an an air-conditioning unit (or perhaps just a noise nuisance unit) that switched itself on at mega-volume outside our windows every time you tentatively dropped off to sleep. The car-park was lethal, a symphony in insecurity; the pavements were larded with dog-sh*t, and the hotel housed a huge number of refugees and a man with a clipboard barking out names at the desperately-miserable-looking crew the next morning. Oh yes- and a dealer on the corner when we got back late at night. Read the hilariously awful reviews here
http://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Hotel_Review-g186402-d277039-Reviews-Paragon_Hotel-Birmingham_West_Midlands_England.html
Just before the gig- which was fab (the audience were definitely stars as well as the band!) we went for a Chinese meal at Ming Moon. The food was great but I'm not so sure about the electric fiddle player, who got ten out of ten for being sinister and who leapt from his podium and serenaded people at their tables (but not us... perhaps he realised that it wasn't a good idea). He peered about the room from under his lashes and strode past the tables with a frightening sense of purpose, swapping to an electric mandolin for some inappropriate soft soul covers. Extraordinary.
But Birmingham has to take the biscuit for a weird experience.
We were booked into the city's worst hotel, the Paragon, which featured a hole in the bath in Chris's room, an electric socket falling off the wall and serious damp issues in John and Kate's room, a full-on argument going on next to Willie's room, an an air-conditioning unit (or perhaps just a noise nuisance unit) that switched itself on at mega-volume outside our windows every time you tentatively dropped off to sleep. The car-park was lethal, a symphony in insecurity; the pavements were larded with dog-sh*t, and the hotel housed a huge number of refugees and a man with a clipboard barking out names at the desperately-miserable-looking crew the next morning. Oh yes- and a dealer on the corner when we got back late at night. Read the hilariously awful reviews here
http://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Hotel_Review-g186402-d277039-Reviews-Paragon_Hotel-Birmingham_West_Midlands_England.html
Just before the gig- which was fab (the audience were definitely stars as well as the band!) we went for a Chinese meal at Ming Moon. The food was great but I'm not so sure about the electric fiddle player, who got ten out of ten for being sinister and who leapt from his podium and serenaded people at their tables (but not us... perhaps he realised that it wasn't a good idea). He peered about the room from under his lashes and strode past the tables with a frightening sense of purpose, swapping to an electric mandolin for some inappropriate soft soul covers. Extraordinary.
Monday, May 12, 2014
Washing
Home top wash clothes; kitchen floor is sticky with RuPaul cake icing after Offsprog One's latest exercise. Reality hits with a bang as I collect a bumper bag of marking from the University of the East.
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