My once-per-month post of any substance
One might think I'd have little else to do but lurk round in my flat posting journal entries, and yet...
So.
It's been a month and a day since Stillwater, so it's high time I gave it at least a paragraph's worth of my effort, don't you think?
So, Stillwater...
The week before the festival, I played the seisiun at Trinity Hall. Ken did sort of a Jedi mind trick (he really did do - it was at least a 6 on the geek--o-metre - geeker counter? Sure, jeez. Argh.) on shaddowshoes and myself, and we decided that what we needed more than anything else was to run away for the weekend. With my impending slog out to Georgia...we needed time to ourselves, and driving up to Oklahoma for a few days afforded us that.
We left late in the evening Friday, and mostly enjoyed the drive - there were a few foolish traffic jams, but the first one at least afforded us the opportunity to listen to a radio programme, which we were on the cusp of being out of range to hear. It was Together Time. :) We arrived to our hotel at round 1 o-clock in the morning, and it was off to bed with us.
Yawwwn.
The Stillwater festival is...right round three years old, so it's still rather young, and thus still a bit small, but I think it shows promise. The venue is a county fair ground, and the local laws permitted that at least the lower alcohol beer could be served. A regional brewery was there flogging its wares, so I had a go at the Irish red ale. Not bad - I could tell that it wasn't as aggressive as its stronger sister would have been, but drinkable all the same. I wish I could recall the name of the brewery, but I'm fixated on Atlanta's own Sweetwater at the moment, and thus it's gone right out of my head.
You know, if the Celtic Heritage Festival could have found itself a venue such as the one that the Stillwater festival uses, it might well have made it - or at least kept its head above the water. (Incidentally, I've heard rumour of a new festival in Denton - anybody who went out to it, do tell me what you thought of it, please.) But no matter, yeh? What's done is done.
The programming tracks were a bit off (meaning people were booked to be in two places at once) and Ken's booth was situated near to a stage (but then, there was a stage in each of the spaces used, so I don't know how that could be avoided), which meant that his idea of stopping at his booth and playing when he hadn't another commitment wasn't going to come to pass. I think we had a reasonable number of people wander by and ask about the retreat, so. I couldn't give an actual number, 'cos I ended up sitting in with a local band during their sets, so there were a few hours in which I wasn't there watching the crowd.
It was lovely when there was time for choonz, however, and I much enjoyed playing with Bill and Patti from Arizona. I'd met them at a Trinity seisiun before, but I think we all had a better time this go. Shaddow and myself stayed at the hotel seisiun till we were faced with 'leave now, or curl up into a corner and go unconcious'. Gone are the days that I could play marathon seisiunna and...well...keep playing. By the end of the weekend, the back of my hand was bruised and a bit blistered. One does suffer, yeh.
Kevin was there as well, and it's also really grand to play with him; he's a fantastic guitarist. He told me that he'd spent rather some time in Vinings (my current neighbourhood), and offered up a few recommendations. The Old Vinings Inn topped his list; I've yet to go there, but perhaps in September when Shaddow and Yo come for a visit.
We lingered sunday till mid afternoon. Shaddow bought some wine from a local winery, and we wandered back home at something of a leisurely pace.
Then, it was back to reality and the last of the packing. What do you do, eh?