(from 2014)
6.30 a.m. Wake
up too early and decide to rise and work on speaking engagement waiting for me
when get home from vacation at Perthshire Amber Folk Festival in Scotland. Do
three minutes and then do crossword instead.
9.00 a.m. Rest of family surfaces. Well, it IS a
vacation.
10.00 a.m. Go for walk alongside the River Tay. A
famous preacher probably got his middle name from this river – many Scots took
it, and then took themselves off to Ireland before heading to America.
Beautiful autumn colors, which is why the folk festival is called Perthshire
Amber. Take numerous photos and manage not to fall into the river.
12.00 noon. Mrs O collects more wool from the
festival HQ. Everyone who can is knitting squares that get put into a huge
blanket that then gets sold off to raise funds for a charity. They should have
raised sufficient money to pay for training a guide dog by the end of the week.
(Total cost about 20 thousand GBP). At most concerts there are a host of mainly
women knitting away while the performers perform. I have this mental picture of
women knitting by the guillotine during the French revolution...
12.30 p.m. Family repair to Indian restaurant for
cheapo midday meal. Also a place that has internet and phone access.
12.35 p.m. Telephone the company back in Wales who
are going to dismantle and then reassemble my mother’s special bed into another
room while she is staying in respite care, after the “vaudeville special” of an
ambulance crew getting her out of her house. Bed, what bed? Job, what job?
Paperwork, what paperwork? Mrs O quietly rants (she is so much better at it
than me) and it is promised before the week is out.
2.00 p.m. Singaround and Tunes session. Each day a
different pub is “Pub of the Day” and anyone can go there to sing and drink. In
Scotland it divides into a battle between tunes and singers. You have to dive
in and start before yet another fiddle player starts another 10 minute opus
that sounds identical to the last one. I managed to get in Wheelie Bin Fire. I
don’t know what they call them in America, but over here each home has several
very large plastic bins that have to be put outside their homes – some for
rubbish, others for recycling. Because they are on wheels they are called –
Wheelie Bins. To the tune of Johnny Cash – Ring of Fire.
Some stupid clown set my Wheelie Bin on Fire
And they danced all around as the flames they grew
higher
And it burns, burns, burns (all join in on this bit)
My wheelie bin fire, my
wheelie bin fire.
The verses have such lines as – the sight at dawn
was quite fantastic, smouldering rubbish and molten plastic...
6.00 p.m. Another meal and drinkies for those who
aren’t driving.
8.00 p.m. Concert at Pitlochry Town Hall – Buddy
Macdonald (Canadian), Eliza Lynn (American) and the Paperboys (Canadian). Good
show. We went specially to see Buddy Macdonald. He emailed me the chords of his
song “Bright Star Shining” a couple of years ago, and I regularly massacre it
at singarounds in Wales. Free beer, and for the drivers, tea, coffee and biscuits.
Very civilized.
11.30 p.m. Home and for most bed, but for me
checking all emails as internet access has returned. Several comments on a post
on another blog. So research and post. As you do.
2.00 a.m. Next morning. Creep into bed. A sleeping
Mrs O mumbles “What time is it?” I don’t answer and she says no more. How does
Gone With The Wind end? – “To-morrow is another day.”
No comments:
Post a Comment