Sit Down

In an attempt to give our unborn child a cultural head start in music we went to see James in concert last week. Glad we did too. From the first rousing cords of Destiny Calling to the stomping climax of Laid it was an excellent night out. OK, so there was a mid set hiatus as they tried out new and unfamiliar material but for the majority of the time we (bump included) jumped and danced around like good ‘uns. Even numbers I didn't really rate in the past spoke straight to the soul this time. Gold Mother was a prime example. I had never been a huge fan of the song but what with the current situation it took on a far greater significance and was well worth its place along with so many old favourites.

Of course this isn’t the first time I’ve seen James in concert but I couldn't believe it when I realised it was fifteen years ago that Kieran, Martin and myself watched them during our teenage quest to the Feile festival. Despite having to shake off the unwanted attention of some stalker (i think he was called Greg) we had an absolute blast, but it really seems like a lifetime ago. Who would have thought during those cold nights, Kieran fighting the ‘screaming ab dabs’ and Martin forced to sleep with his pungent feet outside the tent that we would have come so far in 15 years. Did we really salivate forlornly at the noodle bars and burger vans without the means to buy food having spent everything on beer? Was I really such an old woman that I made us go home early on the first night to ‘avoid the crowd?’ Have Kieran and Martin ever really forgiven me for making them miss Simply Red’s finale as a consequence? So much water under the bridge yet here we are; two of us married, one with a baby on the way – although Kieran is still making a good fist of living like the backpacking festival goer of yesteryear.

It doesn’t half make you wonder about where you’ll be in fifteen years time but then I suppose it’s the unpredictability of life that makes it so interesting. As long as we keep filling the years with unforgettable moments spent with family and friends, the fun will continue, with numerous bands, like James providing the soundtrack of our lives.

Feile

Not Feile

Live Entertainment

Its Easter Sunday here in sunny Yorkshire we're half way through our latest school break. Thoughts understandably turn to crucifixion and the like but our holidays have so far revolved around more sedate live entertainment. As we weren't going abroad this time, we decided to fulfil an outstanding appointment to visit friends in London. We had a few days in the capital and had a brilliant time. Our friends, once stalwarts of that beacon of cutting edge broadcasting; Radio Cumbria, are now enjoying success across the media spectrum. It was great to catch up and to bask, however briefly, in the associated glow of someone who had opened the door for Stephen Fry.

I think what made this trip so much more pleasant was that we decided to walk everywhere rather than using the tube. We were based in Russell Square but used every opportunity to wander the streets of London. As we strolled towards the V&A museum on Wednesday morning, it was lovely to walk through so many different areas of stunning architecture, shops and parkland. The V&A was a surprise too not least because Gill forced us to go to the Kylie exhibition that they had put on there. I lasted almost two minutes. Don't think I am being a snob - it was just rubbish! Gill as usual met up with some old friends although thankfully for once they were inanimate. It was four standard bearing animals called the Dacre beasts which were once housed at a place where she used to work.

Later that evening came my highlight of the trip; a chance to see Spamalot the musical. I'd like to say that I'm not a big fan of musical theatre although many of you know this to be untrue (my penchant for show tunes certainly provided ample fuel for the rumour mills during those awkward adolescent years). However by anyone's standards it was a right laugh. In essence it is Monty Python's Holy Grail with more singing and dancing. I can heartily recommend it.

While we were in London, Alex and Mihal were doing a kind of celebrity holiday swap with us up in the Lake District. By all accounts they certainly put in the miles walking up many of the Lake's most famous peaks and many I'd never heard of. I suppose when you live here you take a lot of that stuff for granted and don't really take advantage. It reminded me of a conversation I once heard at work. One colleague was regaling another about all the fells he had scrambled up and run down over the previous weekend. "Why", replied his workmate, "was the TV broken?"

We met up with Alex and Mihal again on Friday night as we went out for a drink at The Source, one of Carlisle's more original and unique establishments. We happened upon the night when the Experimental Music Collective got together (wouldn't you know, the one night I don't bring the tambourine!!). All very avante garde/boho chic but its always nice to see and do something a bit different.

I had the same thing in mind when we came home this time. Rather than just go out on the sesh we had a look what was on at the local theatres. The Cherry Orchard was on at the Crucible so we got tickets and off we went. It was yet another brilliant night's entertainment and what's more we sat just across from the director, Jonathan Miller (don't worry Stan I didn't pat his backside). So we've had a fun packed and fulfilling week without even leaving the country this time. What's all the better is that it has been glorious weather all week. With this in mind, I thought I'd end this entry with a poem for all our overseas readers;

O, To be in England

Now that April 's there,

And whoever wakes in England

Sees, some morning, unaware,

That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf

Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,

While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough

In England—now!