Chester Folk Festival Online. Busy. Bittersweet. As with last year, there is still the strong flavour of actually being there, but I had to WhatsApp my friends to ask for the last dance last night, which just doesn’t cut it.
I ‘went’ to the first two Folk on Foot festivals and did a couple of other online events, but I found that watching these things at home is the merest shadow of the pleasure of being there. Gigs are what I’ve missed most, along with travel both domestic and foreign.
On the one hand it makes me miss the real thing more, but as I am, to a small degree, involved in the festival, it matters more that I still make the connection with so many people who are part of the festival. We still drink in the virtual bar together and sing together. It’s so much more than just watching gigs.
That said, tomorrow I’ve got to teach a dance workshop; that is bloody hard work on Zoom.
Today I drove for four hours to look at a student kicthen.
The local vaccine centre was the furthest I’d been since last August. Today I drove to Lincoln, just shy of two hours door to door.
Offspring the Elder has a friend at the university who is in the Halls of Residence next door to the one she’s hoping to go to in September. The four of us attempted to look in their room (not possible whilst maintaining social distancing) and the shared kitchen. There were 3 fridges, 3 cookers, 2 sinks (both full of dirty washing up), a bottle of vodka in the microwave, and most of a packet of Monster Munch spread over the floor.
I left them to it, sat by the marina for a bit, then drove them home again.
Lincoln’s a lot nicer than I remembered from my last visit in 1990.
I’ve only visited once, and spent most of the day up the hill, but I found it a pretty and bustling place. The cathedral is a stunner, though I confess that stunning cathedrals weren’t high on the list of criteria when I chose where to study.
My school pal went to art college there. The cathedral was at the top of the hill with some pubs inbetween. I didn’t make it any further up than the first pub.
We did go and see The House Of Love (sadly just after wonder guitarist Terry Bickers had left) play in a scout hut.
Having visited several Universities with my son, I’d say that it’s more about the course than the accommodation. Possibly the only exception was one university that was almost in the middle of nowhere, Wales possibly, which meant that students were restricted to whatever the local small town had to offer. My daughter is looking at courses for 2022/23 and as long as she can get into halls, she is more interested in what the course has to offer although she has her eye on a central London course with Brighton Met as a second choice.
She chose Lincoln because it was one of a handful that does combined Criminology & Psychology. One of the others is Anglia Ruskin in Cambridge. I really hope she gets the A-level grades for Lincoln, for both our sakes.
Virtual open days are just weird.
The Halls was lovely but, for £250 per week, I’d hope they are. The Bank Of Mum And Dad is funding that part (and all the rest, I expect).
My wife’s niece did that course there and really liked the Psychology, the Criminology not so much but that’s kids for you. She did like Lincoln itself though.
We went to the beach. We packed a picnic and everything. It was lovely and sunny when we left home and lovely and sunny all the way up the A1. It was still balmy when we turned off at Alnwick and made our way towards the coast.
The first sign that something was wrong was when we saw some walkers heading back from the beach wearing fleeces. Then we hit a wall of sea fret so solid that you could barely see the other side of the road. By the time we’d parked up, the temperature had dropped a good ten degrees, with a stiff breeze bringing the wind chill down into single figures.
We barely made it through our sandwiches before we had to admit defeat and headed back to the car. Five minutes later, we were heading back home in broad sunshine.
I was at the Summertyne festival one year sat outside the Sage Gateshead, lovely sunny day then saw the sea fret approaching from the right. The temperature just plummeted a scramble to find coats to put on.
Yesterday moved two barrow loads of horse shit, dug a hole and filled it then planted out my sweet peas. ‘Out of the shit came forth scent’.
I had intended to get out on my bike but spent the day cooking instead.
Three types of flat bread: Olives and Feta, caramelised onion and Cheddar, Chorizo.
After that I did roast chicken with roast spuds and veg plus cauliflower cheese. Tonight I watched a zombie movie with my daughter. She can’t stomach Call The Midwife but has no problem with zombie heads exploding.
Tomorrow , I may go and make an unholy racket in the warehouse with my newly fixed Nexo MSIV speakers. They’re about 35 years old but sound great and were passed on to me by an old mate who just wants them to make music again. The crossovers were repaired by a clever chap who basically resoldered all the dry joints and then checked them and replaced the seals on the cabinets. They are about the size of a coffin and a two person lift but are quite efficient so don’t need a massive amp. As no one else will be in tomorrow I can make as much noise as I like.
While we were away looking at student kitchens, Offspring The Younger played some of his hip-hoppety music in our living room. His verdict: “the bass on those speakers is insane.” I think that means he liked them.
In other news, my architect bloke finally delivered the drawings for my garage WFH office/soundproofed cell last week, after an unexplained 6 month wait. He did them all wrong the first time (no soundproofing) then said “I don’t have the time to change them and you haven’t paid for redrafts.” I gave him both barrels. The fifth draft was correct, even if I did have to dictate to him exactly what to do. They’re now with Building Control. In theory I could start tomorrow, but now I have to wait for the builder to become available.
I can’t wait to crank it up again without waking a sleeping teenager or disturbing an HR online meeting.
Took my aged parents (dad 92, mum 88) for breakfast. I had eggs benedict, they had smoked salmon and scrambled eggs. Then went to meet an old mate and had a very very nice pint of Woodfordes Reed Lighter. Then back to mum and dad’s for Smoked Salmon Pasta. Pretty decent all round. I have escaped for a few days.
An unexciting day today, as usual. Yesterday I got up late as I was on a Zoom seession until about 4am the night before. Went down to my nephew’s place in Bracknell later to look at some electrical jobs he wants done on his house. Went for a walk after, in the woods nearby, with him and his young cockapoo while his partner made dinner. The dog is a funny little gingery thing, not very obedient and prone to humping people’s legs when it gets excited. Watched Arnie hamming it up in Total Recall on his humungous TV. Home again and in bed by midnight.
Spent most of the day writing an article trying to figure out the so called Havana Syndrome. All I can substantially gather is that it doesn’t exist.
The day got off to an odd start as I woke from a very weird dream. It involved (a) my dog being kidnapped by a snarling taxi driver who tore the poor dog’s underbelly skin off (b) being in a McDonald’s and seeing on a screen that Julian Cope had been diagnosed with dementia and (c) luring Phil Mitchell into a seedy bedsit in order to kill him, by dropping onto him from a bunk bed. But when he arrived, I realised I couldn’t actually kill a man and made friends with him.
I loved the Phil Mitchell sequence. They say these dreams happen in just a few seconds but it feels like a lifetime. My dreams often have people in them that I don’t recognise, so I must have created them from within my noggin somehow.
Our long weekend was last week (Victoria Day). Glorious late spring weather this in a month which is likely to have the city’s lowest rainfall in 75 years! Didn’t do too much, we are still in lockdown, not working is always a novelty.
My daughter was with her mom. Watched some sport, went for a run and hit some golf balls (which is now allowed), seeing a friend and “meeting”(from a 2 metre distance) his “new” girlfriend, they have been together a year actually but well, you know ….
Normal w/e until today, nowt special. Mowed the lawn, ronsealed the fence, took a pair of trousers back to M&S with a broken zip. “Have you got the receipt?” “Don’t be silly, I have been happily wearing them until the zip went…..”
Today already feels spesh, tho’, by virtue of sitting here on my butt at home, instead of at work, reading this instead of lists of names. Sky has conveniently clouded over, mind, and the forecast seems aspirational at best.
Motel on the A84 (Mhor 84) for the weekend. Lovely to eat in a restaurant and drink Guinness inside! There’s a cycle path alongside the road that goes from Killin to Callander. We didn’t have bikes with us but walked a good bit of it. Lunch in Strathyre. Drives alongside Lochs Lubnaig and Earn, and another, but I’ve forgotten the name. Glorious weather too.
I am “well jell”, as the kids say, for this is the first time in 26 years that we have no plans to visit the birthplace of Mrs F.
Offpsring the Younger announced yesterday that he wants to work abroad after university. “Either Canada or Alaska”. Given how much he dislikes our annual drive to the Cairngorms, presumably somewhere with a nearby airport.
It’s not a long weekend in Queensland. However, the son-in-law opened his record shop in Leyton on Friday, so he’s had his first weekend as a shopkeeper. Pretty good it was too – so much so that he’s in danger of running out of stock and can’t get any more until Thursday. Clientele, according to my daughter, is mostly ‘earnest men in their 40s’. Sounds about right. He hasn’t got the mail order going yet, but those of a vinyl persuasion should keep an eye on Dreamhouse Records.
Apart from drinking two very nice bottles of wine (a Brunello and a Bordeaux) I did absolutely f**k all of note this weekend (the two statements are not necessarily related).
Sat in 24 degrees sunshine by our log cabin (stuga) at the top of a hill in the sunshine listening to a symphony of birdsong, saw (and heard) three kinds of woodpecker (hackspettar) including the impressive Spillkråka ( https://sv.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spillkr%C3%A5ka), a large black bird with a striking red crest. Also some form of eagle, gliding too high to identify. A few walkers passed by, otherwise it was just us and the birds. Stayed over Saturday night. First night there of the year.
Spillkråka translates via Google as Game Crow is that right (probably not)? The Green Woodpecker here does have a local name of yaffle, hence Professor Yaffle in Bagpuss.
Meal out Friday, Mowed lawn Saturday, Guinness and Lunch out on Sunday, Monday doing proper f**k all.
A successful long weekend?
Most exciting part? Online research of Oracle ADFDI vs FBDI software, to better understand why our work performance differes from Oracle Support by about 40 minutes when loading 6000 lines to Oracle Fusion.
Living on the edge …
Walk along the Monsal Trail this morning, early doors, serenaded by many wrens and willow warblers.
Stopped off at the Chatsworth farm shop on the way back.
Nice wine in the fridge for later. My first drink for 4 weeks.
Lovely day.
So far it’s been sea swimming, golf, sea swimming, with a not-brief-enough interlude on the extension roof wrestling with tarpaulins. Have now decided, based on the weather forecast, to take the rest of the week off. So that’ll be sea swimming, golf, sea swimming, then.
Anyway, doing anything nice for the long weekend?
Chester Folk Festival Online. Busy. Bittersweet. As with last year, there is still the strong flavour of actually being there, but I had to WhatsApp my friends to ask for the last dance last night, which just doesn’t cut it.
I ‘went’ to the first two Folk on Foot festivals and did a couple of other online events, but I found that watching these things at home is the merest shadow of the pleasure of being there. Gigs are what I’ve missed most, along with travel both domestic and foreign.
On the one hand it makes me miss the real thing more, but as I am, to a small degree, involved in the festival, it matters more that I still make the connection with so many people who are part of the festival. We still drink in the virtual bar together and sing together. It’s so much more than just watching gigs.
That said, tomorrow I’ve got to teach a dance workshop; that is bloody hard work on Zoom.
Today I drove for four hours to look at a student kicthen.
The local vaccine centre was the furthest I’d been since last August. Today I drove to Lincoln, just shy of two hours door to door.
Offspring the Elder has a friend at the university who is in the Halls of Residence next door to the one she’s hoping to go to in September. The four of us attempted to look in their room (not possible whilst maintaining social distancing) and the shared kitchen. There were 3 fridges, 3 cookers, 2 sinks (both full of dirty washing up), a bottle of vodka in the microwave, and most of a packet of Monster Munch spread over the floor.
I left them to it, sat by the marina for a bit, then drove them home again.
Lincoln’s a lot nicer than I remembered from my last visit in 1990.
I’ve only visited once, and spent most of the day up the hill, but I found it a pretty and bustling place. The cathedral is a stunner, though I confess that stunning cathedrals weren’t high on the list of criteria when I chose where to study.
My school pal went to art college there. The cathedral was at the top of the hill with some pubs inbetween. I didn’t make it any further up than the first pub.
We did go and see The House Of Love (sadly just after wonder guitarist Terry Bickers had left) play in a scout hut.
Having visited several Universities with my son, I’d say that it’s more about the course than the accommodation. Possibly the only exception was one university that was almost in the middle of nowhere, Wales possibly, which meant that students were restricted to whatever the local small town had to offer. My daughter is looking at courses for 2022/23 and as long as she can get into halls, she is more interested in what the course has to offer although she has her eye on a central London course with Brighton Met as a second choice.
She chose Lincoln because it was one of a handful that does combined Criminology & Psychology. One of the others is Anglia Ruskin in Cambridge. I really hope she gets the A-level grades for Lincoln, for both our sakes.
Virtual open days are just weird.
The Halls was lovely but, for £250 per week, I’d hope they are. The Bank Of Mum And Dad is funding that part (and all the rest, I expect).
My wife’s niece did that course there and really liked the Psychology, the Criminology not so much but that’s kids for you. She did like Lincoln itself though.
We went to the beach. We packed a picnic and everything. It was lovely and sunny when we left home and lovely and sunny all the way up the A1. It was still balmy when we turned off at Alnwick and made our way towards the coast.
The first sign that something was wrong was when we saw some walkers heading back from the beach wearing fleeces. Then we hit a wall of sea fret so solid that you could barely see the other side of the road. By the time we’d parked up, the temperature had dropped a good ten degrees, with a stiff breeze bringing the wind chill down into single figures.
We barely made it through our sandwiches before we had to admit defeat and headed back to the car. Five minutes later, we were heading back home in broad sunshine.
Wonderful photo @yorkio It captures the mood perfectly.
I’d never heard the expression sea fret before.
https://www.chroniclelive.co.uk/news/north-east-news/what-sea-frets-ruin-north-6898508
I was at the Summertyne festival one year sat outside the Sage Gateshead, lovely sunny day then saw the sea fret approaching from the right. The temperature just plummeted a scramble to find coats to put on.
Yesterday moved two barrow loads of horse shit, dug a hole and filled it then planted out my sweet peas. ‘Out of the shit came forth scent’.
I had intended to get out on my bike but spent the day cooking instead.
Three types of flat bread: Olives and Feta, caramelised onion and Cheddar, Chorizo.
After that I did roast chicken with roast spuds and veg plus cauliflower cheese. Tonight I watched a zombie movie with my daughter. She can’t stomach Call The Midwife but has no problem with zombie heads exploding.
Tomorrow , I may go and make an unholy racket in the warehouse with my newly fixed Nexo MSIV speakers. They’re about 35 years old but sound great and were passed on to me by an old mate who just wants them to make music again. The crossovers were repaired by a clever chap who basically resoldered all the dry joints and then checked them and replaced the seals on the cabinets. They are about the size of a coffin and a two person lift but are quite efficient so don’t need a massive amp. As no one else will be in tomorrow I can make as much noise as I like.
While we were away looking at student kitchens, Offspring The Younger played some of his hip-hoppety music in our living room. His verdict: “the bass on those speakers is insane.” I think that means he liked them.
In other news, my architect bloke finally delivered the drawings for my garage WFH office/soundproofed cell last week, after an unexplained 6 month wait. He did them all wrong the first time (no soundproofing) then said “I don’t have the time to change them and you haven’t paid for redrafts.” I gave him both barrels. The fifth draft was correct, even if I did have to dictate to him exactly what to do. They’re now with Building Control. In theory I could start tomorrow, but now I have to wait for the builder to become available.
I can’t wait to crank it up again without waking a sleeping teenager or disturbing an HR online meeting.
Took my aged parents (dad 92, mum 88) for breakfast. I had eggs benedict, they had smoked salmon and scrambled eggs. Then went to meet an old mate and had a very very nice pint of Woodfordes Reed Lighter. Then back to mum and dad’s for Smoked Salmon Pasta. Pretty decent all round. I have escaped for a few days.
An unexciting day today, as usual. Yesterday I got up late as I was on a Zoom seession until about 4am the night before. Went down to my nephew’s place in Bracknell later to look at some electrical jobs he wants done on his house. Went for a walk after, in the woods nearby, with him and his young cockapoo while his partner made dinner. The dog is a funny little gingery thing, not very obedient and prone to humping people’s legs when it gets excited. Watched Arnie hamming it up in Total Recall on his humungous TV. Home again and in bed by midnight.
Spent most of the day writing an article trying to figure out the so called Havana Syndrome. All I can substantially gather is that it doesn’t exist.
The day got off to an odd start as I woke from a very weird dream. It involved (a) my dog being kidnapped by a snarling taxi driver who tore the poor dog’s underbelly skin off (b) being in a McDonald’s and seeing on a screen that Julian Cope had been diagnosed with dementia and (c) luring Phil Mitchell into a seedy bedsit in order to kill him, by dropping onto him from a bunk bed. But when he arrived, I realised I couldn’t actually kill a man and made friends with him.
I blame the Tories.
Sounds like their work @slotbadger.
See also Gulf War Syndrome.
Lay off the cheese before bedtime, mate.
I loved the Phil Mitchell sequence. They say these dreams happen in just a few seconds but it feels like a lifetime. My dreams often have people in them that I don’t recognise, so I must have created them from within my noggin somehow.
Julian Cope with dementia? I mean, I love the man, but how could you tell?
Probably off his face on dope and speed.
Our long weekend was last week (Victoria Day). Glorious late spring weather this in a month which is likely to have the city’s lowest rainfall in 75 years! Didn’t do too much, we are still in lockdown, not working is always a novelty.
My daughter was with her mom. Watched some sport, went for a run and hit some golf balls (which is now allowed), seeing a friend and “meeting”(from a 2 metre distance) his “new” girlfriend, they have been together a year actually but well, you know ….
Normal w/e until today, nowt special. Mowed the lawn, ronsealed the fence, took a pair of trousers back to M&S with a broken zip. “Have you got the receipt?” “Don’t be silly, I have been happily wearing them until the zip went…..”
Today already feels spesh, tho’, by virtue of sitting here on my butt at home, instead of at work, reading this instead of lists of names. Sky has conveniently clouded over, mind, and the forecast seems aspirational at best.
Motel on the A84 (Mhor 84) for the weekend. Lovely to eat in a restaurant and drink Guinness inside! There’s a cycle path alongside the road that goes from Killin to Callander. We didn’t have bikes with us but walked a good bit of it. Lunch in Strathyre. Drives alongside Lochs Lubnaig and Earn, and another, but I’ve forgotten the name. Glorious weather too.
I am “well jell”, as the kids say, for this is the first time in 26 years that we have no plans to visit the birthplace of Mrs F.
Offpsring the Younger announced yesterday that he wants to work abroad after university. “Either Canada or Alaska”. Given how much he dislikes our annual drive to the Cairngorms, presumably somewhere with a nearby airport.
He must like extremely cold weather. Summers are great though …
Like his dad, he’s a Ginger…
I live in Scotland’s central belt, so it’s just over an hour away. Traffic was great too!
It’s not a long weekend in Queensland. However, the son-in-law opened his record shop in Leyton on Friday, so he’s had his first weekend as a shopkeeper. Pretty good it was too – so much so that he’s in danger of running out of stock and can’t get any more until Thursday. Clientele, according to my daughter, is mostly ‘earnest men in their 40s’. Sounds about right. He hasn’t got the mail order going yet, but those of a vinyl persuasion should keep an eye on Dreamhouse Records.
https://www.leytonstoner.london/2021/04/23/all-change-dreamhouse-records-moves-into-francis-road/
I went to a friend’s 50th birthday party and she made us all do line dancing. It was great.
Apart from drinking two very nice bottles of wine (a Brunello and a Bordeaux) I did absolutely f**k all of note this weekend (the two statements are not necessarily related).
Sat in 24 degrees sunshine by our log cabin (stuga) at the top of a hill in the sunshine listening to a symphony of birdsong, saw (and heard) three kinds of woodpecker (hackspettar) including the impressive Spillkråka ( https://sv.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spillkr%C3%A5ka), a large black bird with a striking red crest. Also some form of eagle, gliding too high to identify. A few walkers passed by, otherwise it was just us and the birds. Stayed over Saturday night. First night there of the year.
Yes, the English “black woodpecker” is a far duller and more mundane name for the said bird than ‘spillkråka’!
Spillkråka translates via Google as Game Crow is that right (probably not)? The Green Woodpecker here does have a local name of yaffle, hence Professor Yaffle in Bagpuss.
Meal out Friday, Mowed lawn Saturday, Guinness and Lunch out on Sunday, Monday doing proper f**k all.
A successful long weekend?
Most exciting part? Online research of Oracle ADFDI vs FBDI software, to better understand why our work performance differes from Oracle Support by about 40 minutes when loading 6000 lines to Oracle Fusion.
Living on the edge …
Walk along the Monsal Trail this morning, early doors, serenaded by many wrens and willow warblers.
Stopped off at the Chatsworth farm shop on the way back.
Nice wine in the fridge for later. My first drink for 4 weeks.
Lovely day.
So far it’s been sea swimming, golf, sea swimming, with a not-brief-enough interlude on the extension roof wrestling with tarpaulins. Have now decided, based on the weather forecast, to take the rest of the week off. So that’ll be sea swimming, golf, sea swimming, then.