I'm being crap
Since the advent of Twitter, I have become increasingly pants at this LJ lark. In fact I'm being doubly pants as I use my LJ posts as a basis for writing letters to my father. It's the only way I remember what I've been up to, what books I've read, films I've seen, foolish situations I've got myself into... I can't imagine giving LJ up, although if anyone still reads what I write, it must be incredibly tedious to have to wade through a 6 month, badly written chunk of what-I-did-on-my-holidays. It's like being back at school. I must think carefully about whether to keep at it, although it would be a shame to give up sommat I (initially) put so much time into. Isn't it odd that one never gets out of the phase of going through phases??
So, since September, there was...
A Beer Festival!
We spent the evening with a Heston Bloomenthal looky-likey (it's astonishing!) who was v good company. I was also followed about by a malodorous fellow with pink foam dreads, while Mr W caught up with lots of people he hardly sees since I stole him away from Wales.
and there was...
Many a nosebag with chums.
Including risking life and limb in the hills of Yorkshire in -10 to deliver Unusual Guru Wilbur's Christmas pressies. I may be foolhardly, but you gotta give me credit for being organised!
I also met up with Farmer Charles after a hard day Scriveners-browsing in Glossop. He came armed with homemade wine, which was really lovely. I should've placed a regular order with him while I had the chance...
And I arranged to meet up with piplog which is probably only the 2nd time I've seen him since he got married! Shame on him. Still, we've actually got off our collective arses and arranged to impose our company on him in Northampton in February. Hurrah!
I'm pretty sure I fit rickbooth and twig_wonderkid in as well.
and there was...
A choral workshop with Bob Chilcott.
I've been on a couple of his workshops before, and I find them so refeshing: it's just nice to sing sommat different with different people. And there was an unexpected bonus: as it was in Macclesfield, I took the opportunity to inflict myself up magentajade while I was there. It's about time really. We spent a luvverley couple of hours catching up, and her sprog introduced himself by grasping me firmly by the norks. I like a chap who knows what he wants.
and there was...
a lot of Band Camp.
Even though I am largely pants, I do enjoy tootling about in a swing styley. I can only imagine giving it up if my arms mysteriously drop off. Or if the rest of the clarinet section becomes tired of my constant ineptitude...
While playing at Wythenshawe Hospital's open day, I bought a large amount of pickled garlic from their farmers' market. It was expensive and it reeked, but it was fabulous and lastet me absolutely ages. Nom nom nom.
We also had our almost-annual Festival of Remembrance in the newly refurbished Stockport Plaza. Amongst our guests were the Pipes and Drums of the Scots Guards. V v loud (especially when I got a squeezebag shoved in my ear) but spine-chingling stuff. The Stepmother came up to stay for it (after having just had a heart attack, so 10/10 for dedication - Mr W flew back from Paris to come, but he only gets 9/10 as he wasn't a death's door). All my carefully laid plans for entertainment were shat upon by the weather, so we spent a relatively relaxing time just pootling about, with frequent stops for tea and sticky buns. For medicinal purposes of course.
and there was...
Filmage.
As usual, we haven't seen half the things we wanted to, as quite often when we had spare time, there weren't many things on that we fancied. But when we were busy, many good things came and went. *sigh* Never mind, Mr W has strict instructions to add them to his DVD rental list instead. I will commit to providing popcorn and pic n mix for our faces, squares of slightly sticky carpet for our feet, and recordings of other people being irritating, to enhance our viewing pleasure.
But we did manage to see Devil (obvious, but good), Resident Evil: Afterlife (shiny shiny shit), Believe (great - esp with the live Q&A feed from That London), Despicable Me (I nearly died at the "IT'S SO FLUFFY!!!" stage), and of course Harry Potter and the Wossnames of Oojamiflips. I think the waiting until the summer for the second part could cause me to rupture sommat vital.
and there was...
Bookage
Although my reading has suffered since I fell prey to the charms of Angry Birds and Trucks and Skulls. Who knew that slinging a selection of things at a selection of other things could be so satisfying???
But I did read Thomas Harris' Hannibal Rising (OK), Anne Rice's Blackwood Farm (cheesey), Dean Koontz's Breathless (great), Andrew Hassall's Snakebreath (which I bought on the strength of what it felt like: heavy for a paperback, good quality paper, bad idea); Alan Garner's Strandloper (I don't think I enjoy his adult books as much as I remember enjoying his kiddie books); Tom Holt's May Contain Traces of Magic (great); Nicholson Baker's Fermata (most odd); Chrisopher Moore's Lamb: the Gospel according t Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal (hysterical and v v clever); and the Bluntman and Chronic graphic novel (shiny).
and there was...
Hull.
Or more accurately, a trip to Hessle which is just outside it.
I have a chum who lives there and her band (the East Riding of Yorkshire brass band) had a concert in aid of the RNLI. I didn't realise she had 9 guests staying that weekend, so it was chaos! However, all us guests got on really well (fuelled by trips to the pub and late night, drunken poker), and the concert itself was fantastic. Amazing sound, imaginative arrangements. Crackin'. And it was great to catch up with Em The Monkee, meet her new fella, her family, and do a bit of sightseeing to boot. We've all arranged to go back in Feb (for the panto this time) for more of the same!
and there was...
Tilly.
One of the basses in the choir is... a Public Speaker I suppose. He's so gifted that he could do a talk about taking the bins out and it would be fascinating. He always manages to make you learn stuff without you realising. Which is quite an achievement with my increasingly addled brain! This talk was about a specific type of boat building, the history thereof, and a photographic record of one of the actual boats (Tilly) being built. My description doesn't do it any justice at all, so you must take my word for it that it was fascinating. So there.
and there was...
a new Fettler!
My previous fettler has retired, so her replacement came 'round to introduce herself. She started off by unintentionally insulting Mr W (which always earns brownie points with me), and then she was lovely and bubbly and obviously potty about mogs, which helps in that line of work, I would imagine.
My mogs are a bit stand-offish, and they like not the intrustions of strange folks into their territory. However, I accidentally shut 'Dozer into the box room as we left (she's stealthy for a fat lass) so the Fettler's dynamic resuce of her had both mogs loving her from moment #1. Hurrah!
and there was...
Stratford.
Mr W had arranged for us to join the thesping throngs to see Roald Dahl's Mathilda for which Tim Minchin had written the score. It was absolutely gobsmacking. The hotel we were staying in was very fancy, beautiful and OLD - in fact the whole town was so pretty, with the oldest buildings appearing to stay up by willpower alone. We did some touristy stuff, some shopping, some general wandering about, some drinkings of brown beer, and hit the jackpot with a cafe that did Baileys Hot Chocolate. Mmmmmm.
and then there was...
nowt.
That's it.
So, since September, there was...
A Beer Festival!
We spent the evening with a Heston Bloomenthal looky-likey (it's astonishing!) who was v good company. I was also followed about by a malodorous fellow with pink foam dreads, while Mr W caught up with lots of people he hardly sees since I stole him away from Wales.
and there was...
Many a nosebag with chums.
Including risking life and limb in the hills of Yorkshire in -10 to deliver Unusual Guru Wilbur's Christmas pressies. I may be foolhardly, but you gotta give me credit for being organised!
I also met up with Farmer Charles after a hard day Scriveners-browsing in Glossop. He came armed with homemade wine, which was really lovely. I should've placed a regular order with him while I had the chance...
And I arranged to meet up with piplog which is probably only the 2nd time I've seen him since he got married! Shame on him. Still, we've actually got off our collective arses and arranged to impose our company on him in Northampton in February. Hurrah!
I'm pretty sure I fit rickbooth and twig_wonderkid in as well.
and there was...
A choral workshop with Bob Chilcott.
I've been on a couple of his workshops before, and I find them so refeshing: it's just nice to sing sommat different with different people. And there was an unexpected bonus: as it was in Macclesfield, I took the opportunity to inflict myself up magentajade while I was there. It's about time really. We spent a luvverley couple of hours catching up, and her sprog introduced himself by grasping me firmly by the norks. I like a chap who knows what he wants.
and there was...
a lot of Band Camp.
Even though I am largely pants, I do enjoy tootling about in a swing styley. I can only imagine giving it up if my arms mysteriously drop off. Or if the rest of the clarinet section becomes tired of my constant ineptitude...
While playing at Wythenshawe Hospital's open day, I bought a large amount of pickled garlic from their farmers' market. It was expensive and it reeked, but it was fabulous and lastet me absolutely ages. Nom nom nom.
We also had our almost-annual Festival of Remembrance in the newly refurbished Stockport Plaza. Amongst our guests were the Pipes and Drums of the Scots Guards. V v loud (especially when I got a squeezebag shoved in my ear) but spine-chingling stuff. The Stepmother came up to stay for it (after having just had a heart attack, so 10/10 for dedication - Mr W flew back from Paris to come, but he only gets 9/10 as he wasn't a death's door). All my carefully laid plans for entertainment were shat upon by the weather, so we spent a relatively relaxing time just pootling about, with frequent stops for tea and sticky buns. For medicinal purposes of course.
and there was...
Filmage.
As usual, we haven't seen half the things we wanted to, as quite often when we had spare time, there weren't many things on that we fancied. But when we were busy, many good things came and went. *sigh* Never mind, Mr W has strict instructions to add them to his DVD rental list instead. I will commit to providing popcorn and pic n mix for our faces, squares of slightly sticky carpet for our feet, and recordings of other people being irritating, to enhance our viewing pleasure.
But we did manage to see Devil (obvious, but good), Resident Evil: Afterlife (shiny shiny shit), Believe (great - esp with the live Q&A feed from That London), Despicable Me (I nearly died at the "IT'S SO FLUFFY!!!" stage), and of course Harry Potter and the Wossnames of Oojamiflips. I think the waiting until the summer for the second part could cause me to rupture sommat vital.
and there was...
Bookage
Although my reading has suffered since I fell prey to the charms of Angry Birds and Trucks and Skulls. Who knew that slinging a selection of things at a selection of other things could be so satisfying???
But I did read Thomas Harris' Hannibal Rising (OK), Anne Rice's Blackwood Farm (cheesey), Dean Koontz's Breathless (great), Andrew Hassall's Snakebreath (which I bought on the strength of what it felt like: heavy for a paperback, good quality paper, bad idea); Alan Garner's Strandloper (I don't think I enjoy his adult books as much as I remember enjoying his kiddie books); Tom Holt's May Contain Traces of Magic (great); Nicholson Baker's Fermata (most odd); Chrisopher Moore's Lamb: the Gospel according t Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal (hysterical and v v clever); and the Bluntman and Chronic graphic novel (shiny).
and there was...
Hull.
Or more accurately, a trip to Hessle which is just outside it.
I have a chum who lives there and her band (the East Riding of Yorkshire brass band) had a concert in aid of the RNLI. I didn't realise she had 9 guests staying that weekend, so it was chaos! However, all us guests got on really well (fuelled by trips to the pub and late night, drunken poker), and the concert itself was fantastic. Amazing sound, imaginative arrangements. Crackin'. And it was great to catch up with Em The Monkee, meet her new fella, her family, and do a bit of sightseeing to boot. We've all arranged to go back in Feb (for the panto this time) for more of the same!
and there was...
Tilly.
One of the basses in the choir is... a Public Speaker I suppose. He's so gifted that he could do a talk about taking the bins out and it would be fascinating. He always manages to make you learn stuff without you realising. Which is quite an achievement with my increasingly addled brain! This talk was about a specific type of boat building, the history thereof, and a photographic record of one of the actual boats (Tilly) being built. My description doesn't do it any justice at all, so you must take my word for it that it was fascinating. So there.
and there was...
a new Fettler!
My previous fettler has retired, so her replacement came 'round to introduce herself. She started off by unintentionally insulting Mr W (which always earns brownie points with me), and then she was lovely and bubbly and obviously potty about mogs, which helps in that line of work, I would imagine.
My mogs are a bit stand-offish, and they like not the intrustions of strange folks into their territory. However, I accidentally shut 'Dozer into the box room as we left (she's stealthy for a fat lass) so the Fettler's dynamic resuce of her had both mogs loving her from moment #1. Hurrah!
and there was...
Stratford.
Mr W had arranged for us to join the thesping throngs to see Roald Dahl's Mathilda for which Tim Minchin had written the score. It was absolutely gobsmacking. The hotel we were staying in was very fancy, beautiful and OLD - in fact the whole town was so pretty, with the oldest buildings appearing to stay up by willpower alone. We did some touristy stuff, some shopping, some general wandering about, some drinkings of brown beer, and hit the jackpot with a cafe that did Baileys Hot Chocolate. Mmmmmm.
and then there was...
nowt.
That's it.