Happy Together

I did it! A trip to see my parents and I managed to avoid turning into Ms Mardy Bum! OK, so it was only an overnight stay, but progress, I feel, nonetheless. I would even go so far as to say I had a good time!

I'll update properly tonight. In the meantime, I'm off to Warwick Castle for a family day out...


Happy Together - The Jam (The Gift, 1982)

Something So Right

Musical Monday rolls round once again and this week's track is perfect for a long, lazy Bank Holiday.

Although Paul Simon is not, perhaps, my usual choice of listening, Negotiations and Love Songs was the CD Cam chose to play the morning after we'd spent our first night together, back in October 1989. And as I lay in his bed, stretching, chilling out and listening to the music, everything really did seem so right...




Something So Right - Paul Simon (Negotiations and Love Songs 1971-1986, 1986)

Other Voices

So, Bonnie has been evicted from The Big Brother House and whilst, on a personal level, she was not exactly the most offensive of housemates, I'm so pleased she has gone - if only so I no longer have to listen to that dreadful voice! Whilst I have nothing against regional accents per se - I don't exactly speak in Received Pronunciation myself - the Leicestershire accent (Bonnie is from Loughborough) has to be one of the worst the UK has to offer.

I'm not sure why I find the local accent so grating. I think perhaps it's beacause it sounds so lazy - almost like the speaker can't be bothered to finish off his words properly - for instance, replacing the ie or y at the end of a word with an 'eh' sound whilst er becomes 'ah'. An' if ya thought Bonneh wah bad, ya shoulda 'eard 'er sistah! Having seen Bonnie's sister, Lara, on Big Brother's Little Brother Yesterday, Bonnie's accent began to sound positively mild.

Living in Leicestershire, it was perhaps not a good idea to name my daughter Daisy - she's destined to get called Daiseh! So far my children have avoided developing a Leicester accent and long may that continue. Cam went to school in Leicester and managed to escape with his vowels intact but Cam's youngest brother has lived in Leicester all his life and has a noticeable Leicester twang.

I spent the first few years of my life in Portsmouth, moving up to my mum's home town of Barnsley at the age of around four. During my time at primary school, no one ever commented on the way I spoke but it certainly became an issue once I got to secondary school. Not having the regulation broad South Yorkshire accent, I was considered 'posh' and consequently began to modify my accent to fit in. Ironically, as soon as I moved away, a Yorkshire accent was the last thing I wanted and I set about losing it again.

The nature of my current job, involving a lot of time on the telephone, means that I'm exposed to the whole range of UK accents and, in more bored moments, I play a little game of guessing where people are from before I've located their details. I'm often woefully wrong but if someone from Barnsley has a 2 in their account number, I'll pinpoint them every time! There are some regional accents I could listen to all day - Geordie, Irish (both Northern and Southern), West Country; some I find irrationally amusing - Liverpool, Manchester and (rarely) some that are downright unintelligible!

I'm not sure what kind of accent I have these days - vaguely Northern/Midlands, I guess. Funnily enough, though, when I'm speaking to old schoolfriends or my family, I subconsciously lapse into broad Yorkshire. I've observed this chameleon quality in other people too. Cam works in Birmingham and when speaking to work colleagues on the phone, he definitely develops a slight Brummie accent!


Other Voices - The Cure (Staring At The Sea, 1986)

War Child

Excuse me for a moment whilst I slip into Proud Mummy mode and show off this picture of my handsome younger son, dressed as a World War Two evacuee for his school trip to Beaumanor Park. See the gas mask box, painstakingly created by Cam; the trousers lovingly shortened (amidst much finger pricking and under-the-breath cursing) by yours truly. Observe the authentically worried expression on my little darling's face. Lovely!


War Child - Blondie (Atomic: The Very Best Of Blondie, 1998)

A New England

After writing about Billy Bragg last week, I've decided that this week's Musical Monday has to be a Billy Bragg song. Although I love so many of Billy's songs, my favourite will always be the first one I ever heard: A New England. Less than two and a half minutes long and both vocally and musically very simple - just Billy and his guitar, it is nevertheless one of my all-time favourite songs.

Looking through my music collection, I was surprised to find that I have four different versions of A New England (five, if you include the cover by Kirsty MacColl, for whom Billy wrote two additional verses). I have decided to include two versions. The first is a studio version from Billy's 'best of' collection, Must I Paint You A Picture, the second is from one of Billy's John Peel sessions and is probably closest to the version I first heard and fell in love with.






A New England - Billy Bragg (Must I Paint You A Picture: The Essential Billy Bragg, 2003; The Peel Sessions. 1991)

I Am What I Am Not

I have been tagged by Kell.

I AM: disorganised. No matter how early I get up in the morning, I always end up rushing around at the last minute, usually looking for something which has invariably walked from the last place it was seen in: keys, purse, Daisy's pre-school bag...

I WANT: the rain to stop!

I WISH: I was thinner, younger, more organised! Hmmm... I've actually got control over two of those. Time to start cracking the whip, I think!

I HATE: cruelty and injustice.

I MISS: my girlfriends. Although I have a number of friends and numerous aquaintances in Leicestershire, I miss the closeness of the friends I grew up with and those I met at university. I miss having a best friend who I can talk to about anything and who I know will stand by me, no matter what.

I FEAR: dying whilst my children are still young; my children and those I love getting ill or seriously hurt in any way.

I HEAR: CBeebies and Daisy singing along.

I WONDER: what I'll do with my life once Daisy is at school. At the moment I work part-time, in a job I don't really like. It might be time to make a positive career move.

I REGRET: listening to the Careers Advisor at school and studying Business Studies instead of doing an English degree.

I AM NOT: a morning person. I begin to feel human by about 9.30 am.

I DANCE: whilst washing up, listening to the radio. George and Daisy often join in.

I SING: loudly in my car. I'm one of those people you see at traffic lights, getting slightly carried away!

I CRY: far more easily than I used to. Although having children has made me stronger in lots of ways, my emotions seem much closer to the surface.

I AM NOT ALWAYS: very tolerant. I don't suffer fools gladly.

I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: a pretty mean pizza. There's something very therapeutic about kneading and stretching dough.

I WRITE: shopping lists on a whiteboard in the kitchen. the general opinion on my handwriting is that it looks good but is difficult to read; something my students used to constantly moan about when I was teaching.

I CONFUSE: myself, trying to remember everything. I have a perfectly good diary and wallplanner but rather than using them, I constantly juggle things in my head.

I NEED: eight hours sleep to feel fully refreshed but rarely get it.

I SHOULD: go to bed earlier.

I START: my day with a strong cup of coffee, usually made for me by Cam.

I FINISH: Daisy's left over cheese on toast. It's a terrible habit and I don't do it with anything else but I can rarely resist cheese on toast.

I tag CatGirl, Curly K and Serendipity.


I Am What I Am Not - Idlewild (The Remote Part, 2003)

The Boy Done Good

Thursday 4th May. Billy Bragg. What can I say about him? I've been a fan since the early 1980's when I first heard A New England on John Peel's late night show on Radio 1. During my politically-active student days I was a staunch supporter of Red Wedge, the collective fronted by Billy Bragg and I've continued to enjoy Billy's music throughout my adult life. (In fact the title of this blog is taken from a Billy Bragg album - Life's A Riot With Spy Vs Spy. ) I was thrilled, therefore, to hear that Billy was to play Leicester's De Montfort Hall and snapped up tickets at the earliest opportunity.

I'd expected the audience for this gig to be far older than the ones I've been to recently but it was actually a very mixed crowd - Billy is evidently still appealing to the student generation! The audience was, however, considerably more sedate than at recent gigs. Cam and me had standing tickets and managed to comfortably maintain our front of hall, centre-stage position throughout the evening. I don't think I was jostled once!

The support act was Seth Lakeman, one of last year's Mercury Music Prize nominees. Seth plays his own unique brand of indie-folk and performed a passionate and energetic set. Possibly not to everyone's taste but well worth a listen if you haven't heard any of his music. As an added bonus, he's absolutely gorgeous too!

The theme of the tour was Hope Not Hate, with an anti-fascist message, targeted in particular at the British National party. In his usual style, Billy interspersed his songs with banter, jokes and a liberal sprinkling of politics, making for a fabulously entertaining evening. Although I may not agree with absolutely everything Billy says, I'm definitely with him most of the way. Billy was accompanied on keyboards by Sir Ian McLagan, formerly of The Small Faces and The Faces and there was evidently a great rapport between the two men. There were old songs, new songs and updated songs. The evening ended with two encores - the second of which was an audience sing-along to most of the tracks from Billy's first two albums. The evening was incredible value for money and I left the hall feeling uplifted and, if truth be told, slightly emotional and teary. Billy Bragg, I love you!


The Boy Done Good - Billy Bragg (Reaching To The Converted, 1999)

Time Passes...

It's a common complaint, I know, but I rarely seem to have enough time. I'm not greedy - a couple of extra hours each day would suit me. Just enough to let me do everything I need/want to do and still get enough sleep at night. This year is marching by at breakneck speed - days and even whole weeks just slipping by. The demands of three children, home and work are never-ending and I sometimes feel like I'm swimming against the tide, barely keeping my head above water.

I've had more than a few evenings out over the last few weeks, and though I love to get out and see bands, socialise with friends and generally feel like I'm still me and not just a mum, wife or whatever, I have been burning the candle at both ends. If you hadn't already guessed, I'm feeling tired and slightly sorry for myself at the moment! Things haven't been helped by the fact that, at the end of last week, whilst rushing to leave the house to collect Daisy from pre-school, I slipped on a toy which had been discarded on the top step and crashed down the stairs from top to bottom, grazing and bruising my back and aggravating an old ankle injury. I'm sure I'll begin to feel better soon. I have nothing major planned for the rest of the week and I'm hoping that a few quiet days and - hopefully - some sunshine should sort me out. Not to mention the fact Big Brother 7 starts this week. Only two days to go! Ok, I admit it: My name is Julie and I'm a Big Brother addict. It's been several months now since I last indulged...


Time Passes... - Paul Weller (Stanley Road, 1995)

Nightporter

It's that time of the week again and today's Musical Monday is an unashamedly self-indulgent choice.

Japan were formed in Catford in 1974 by school mates David Sylvian (real name David Batt) and Mick Karn (Anthony Michelides), together with David's younger brother, Steve Jansen (Steve Batt). The band originally played guitar-based glam rock. I didn't become aware of the band, however, until after the release of their fourth album, Gentleman Take Polaroids in 1980, by which time the band had moved to a more electronic-based sound and were at the forefront of the New Romantic movement.

Having discovered Japan, at the age of thirteen, I quickly became obsessed with both the band and their music. I was alone in this, despite my best efforts, as my unenlightened friends failed to see the attraction. I even joined the fan club and remember wearing my burgundy and silver enamelled badge with great pride! Japan were my adolescent heroes, the black and white pin ups on the cork board of my early 1980's bedroom and I played their albums endlessly. Japan's music saw me through a period of feeling intensely isolated as I was bullied at school, through my O-Level years and into my first serious relationship.

Nightporter has always been my favourite Japan track and even now, after all these years, whenever I hear it I have to stop everything I'm doing and just listen...




Nightporter - Japan (Gentlemen Take Polaroids, 1980)

T Plays It Cool

This is a game courtesy of Serendipity. Ten things beginning with a particular letter of the alphabet which relate to me and my life in some way. Serendipity has given me the letter T. It's a tad more tricky than it sounds, so some of the ten are slightly tenuous:

1. Teacher - In my former life (pre-children) I was a teacher of Business Studies and Economics in a sixth form college. I loved teaching and have thought about returning to it once Daisy is at school. Unfortunately, I'm slightly put off by my subject specialism which no longer holds much interest for me. I'd love to teach English or Primary school but as my degree was in Business Studies and Politics, I'd need to do some kind of retraining.
   
   
2. Trains - I think I've mentioned previously that I love travelling by train. (OK, hands up everyone who's now visualising me as some kind of anorak-clad nerd with a notebook!) When I was a child, my grandparents lived in Anglesey, North Wales and several times a year we'd make the long journey to see them. We'd travel to Sheffield by bus, get a train to Manchester Piccadilly station, a shuttle bus to Manchester Victoria and then catch the 10 pm boat train to Holyhead.
   
   The trains were almost always the old-fashioned type, with a long corridor running the length of each carriage and individual compartments of six seats. I was inevitably too excited to sleep and spent the journey reading, munching sandwiches (Mum always packed enough for a small army!), and checking the progress of our journey as we passed each station. The train stopped at Warrington Bank Quay and Chester before snaking its way round the North Wales coastline: Prestatyn, Rhyl, Abergele and Pensarn, Colwyn Bay, Llandudno Junction, Penmaenmawr, Llanfairfechan, Bangor and finally, at somewhere around 2 am, we'd arrive in Holyhead and walk, luggage in hand, to my grandparents' house.
   
   The return journey was usually made in daylight and, despite the fact that I then had a view through the window, it was nowhere near as thrilling as travelling through the night, when I'd normally be tucked up in bed.
   
   
3. Travel - There are so many places in the world I would like to see that I slightly regret the fact that I didn't do more travelling when I only had myself to worry about. I never had any mad back packing adventures or exotic long haul holidays. Travel is definitely on my medium to long term To Do list.
   
   
4. Trearddur Bay - Trearddur Bay on the Isle of Anglesey is one of my favourite British seaside resorts. Gloriously uncommercialised, even at the height of summer, it has a fabulous sweep of golden sand which is just perfect for building sandcastles. When I was very young (until ill-health forced a move into Holyhead) my grandparents lived just down the road from Trearddur Bay, off the beaten track in a picturesque old cottage. The nearest shop was in the bay and we'd walk the mile or so up the road each day to buy bread and milk.
   
   
5. Talk - Anyone who knows me well will vouch for the fact that I like to talk! During my schooldays I was constantly in trouble for chattering and even now, at work, I find it all too easy to waste time in conversation with my colleagues rather than getting on with the task in hand.
   
   
6. Telephone - Telephones are linked, naturally, to my love of talking but phone conversations are also a large part of my current job... (Edited to remove material which may be deemed sensitive.)
   
   
7. Two Tribes - When I tried to think of a 'T' related song with an associated memory, this was the first one that came to mind so I thought I'd go with it. Every time I hear this song, I'm transported straight back to 1984 and the summer I was 17. In particular, the song reminds me of driving over the North Yorkshire Moors, with P, my boyfriend at the time, on our way to spend a weekend with his family in Sandsend, near Whitby. It was a balmy June evening, all the windows of the car were wound down and, as we drove along the winding road, past the weird "golf balls" of RAF Fylingdales, Two Tribes played at full volume on the car's stereo. It seemed strangely prophetic and, despite the warmth of the evening, I felt an undeniable cold shiver run down my spine.
   
   
   
   Two Tribes - Frankie Goes To Hollywood (Welcome To the Pleasuredome, 1984)
   
   
8. Tranquillity Tea - I've never been a fan of traditional tea but, conscious of the fact that I drink far too much caffeine, in recent years I've began to replace some of my daily cups of coffee with herbal tea. Amongst the herbal teas I've tried, Dr Stuart's Tranquillity Tea deserves a particular mention. A couple of cups and you begin to get a definite feeling of drowsy well-being. It must be pretty potent stuff as there's a warning on the packet not to drink more than four cups a day!
   
   
9. Temper - It's not something I'm proud of but, when provoked, I have an incredibly bad temper. People who don't know me very well are usually surprised when they discover this aspect of my character; on the surface I appear quite laid back. I have a fairly long fuse but when it's burnt out, I am not a pleasant person to be around...
   
   
10. Tipsy - I love the word tipsy. It has a peculiarly quaint ring to it which somehow appeals to me. I also love feeling tipsy. Not drunk. I hate feeling that I'm losing control, that my world is spinning and - more than likely - I'm going to be ill. But tipsy is good. Tipsy is the warm glow of knowing everything's all right in your world, feeling that everyone's on your side; you're invincible and life is good.

T Plays It Cool - Marvin Gaye (Chilled Ibiza 3, 2002)

Choux Pastry Heart

Well, it's been a busy week Chez Midas and consequently my blog has been somewhat neglected. However, I couldn't let Musical Monday go by without a post.

This week's track is from the album I seem to be listening to more than any other at the moment; the eponymous album from the fabulous Corinne Bailey Rae. Cam and I were talking the other day about how, every year, there's an album which seems to become a personal soundtrack for the summer. I think summer 2006 will be defined by Corinne Bailey Rae. Here's Choux Pastry Heart; I'm not going to say anything else about it, I'll let the song speak for itself.




Choux Pastry Heart - Corinne Bailey Rae (Corinne Bailey Rae, 2006)

Accident Waiting To Happen

Clumsy, accident prone, downright careless. Whatever label you choose to put on it, that's me. If something can be knocked over, spilt or dropped, then you can count on me to do it. I'm the person who'll visit your home and spill a glass - a full glass, naturally - of red wine all over your newly acquired oatmeal carpet. You'll say it doesn't matter, of course, but we'll both know that it does. And every time I visit you and see the slightly pink shadow of a stain, now hidden under an occasional table, it'll be another reminder of my innate clumsiness.

How I'd love to be one of those people who leave the house looking immaculate and return several hours later with barely a hair out of place. I may look presentable when I walk out of the door, but you can guarantee I won't stay that way for long. There's a conspiracy afoot to ensure that something will go wrong. I'll be that person walking too near the edge of the kerb on a wet day, when puddles have formed at the side of the road; the unsuspecting soul who steps right into the large and squelchy dog turd, cunningly hidden under a pile of leaves. Beginning to get the picture?

External influences are one thing, but I'm more than capable of sabotaging my appearance quite independently. There's many a day when, wearing a dark coloured top, I'll glance down, only to realise with a sinking heart that - yet again - my breast region is speckled with an interesting array of tiny white dots. The tooth brushing monster strikes again! My most memorable act of self-sabotage happened many years ago during my industrial placement from university. Part of my role during the year involved arranging work experience placements for local school children. So, there I was one afternoon, sitting at my desk, enjoying a cup of coffee, when the Receptionist called to let me know that a teacher had arrived to visit his students on placement. I jumped up, only to send my coffee flying all down the front of my dress (as I recall, a light-coloured linen number with tasteful black and red splodges and, more than likely, shoulder pads too; all very fashionable at the time - honestly!). I was quite literally drenched in coffee - dripping, even. Dabbing at my dress in the Ladies had virtually zero impact and I was left with no option other than to put on my jacket (covering only a fraction of the stain) and to stride out with my head held high...

The very worst thing about my dirt-magnet qualities is that they appear to be genetic. It's evidently a dominant gene too - each of my children has inherited it. Every day my boys come out of school, liberally coated in mud; even on the driest day we've had for weeks. A few days ago, I was sorting out the laundry and thought for one dreadful minute that George had fallen victim to a virulent attack of diarrhoea and was too embarrassed to tell me. I was quite relieved to realise it was only mud. He'd evidently been doing more than the average amount of wallowing that day and it had gone right through to his underwear! I did think for a while that Daisy might have escaped the curse but it seems to have claimed another victim:

I go to collect Daisy from pre-school, her t-shirt is generously smeared in red and orange paint:

Daisy: Mummy, I got paint on my Charlie and Lola t-shirt.

Julie: Never mind Poppet, it'll wash. Can I see your painting?

Daisy: I didn't do one today.

Arrrrgggghhhhh!!!!


Accident Waiting To Happen - Billy Bragg (Don't Try This At Home, 1991)

Camping Next To Water

As my last two offerings for Musical Monday have been from the eighties, I've decided it's time to move forward a little this week.

Summer 2000 was an amazing time, musically speaking; with debut albums from Richard Ashcroft, Coldplay and Doves, amongst others. However, for me, the album that really stood out was by a 30 year old, woolly hatted Mancunian named Damon Gough, AKA Badly Drawn Boy.

I remember hearing a Badly Drawn Boy song (I think it was Another Pearl) on the radio one evening and being completely blown away. I bought the album the next day.

The Hour of Bewilderbeast combines a whole range of musical genres from folk to indie pop to jazz. There are pared-down acoustic songs and tracks employing complex layers of instrumentation. The lyrics chart the history of a relationship, with all its ups and downs. The Hour of Bewilderbeast deservedly won the prestigious Mercury Music Award in the year 2000.

Although I played the album to death the summer I bought it, I still never tire of listening to it. Camping Next To Water seems like a good choice for a slightly grey Bank Holiday Monday, so here it is.

Happy Musical Monday...




Camping Next To Water - Badly Drawn Boy (The Hour of Bewilderbeast, 2000)

Oh My God

Wednesday night and another gig in Birmingham. Kaiser Chiefs at the National Indoor Arena. I'd been looking forward to this one for a while; especially as I knew Graham Coxon was supporting. I was more than a little dismayed, therefore, to wake up on Wednesday morning with a pounding head, sore throat and all the signs that I was in the grip of some kind of evil cold virus. Missing out on the evening was never an option, though, so I dosed myself up with Nurofen and hoped for the best...

The last time I visited the National Indoor Arena was September of last year when we took Daisy to see Balamory Live. Thankfully, Miss Hoolie and co were nowhere in sight this time and the venue looked very different with the stall seating removed to form a massive standing area. For reasons best known to themselves, the stewards decided that no one was allowed to stand until shortly before the gig started and so we were made to sit on the floor - like rows of overgrown primary school children, waiting for assembly to begin. An effective form of torture for the over-30's! Needless to say, as soon as the stewards gave the go-ahead to stand, there was a huge surge forward. Cam and I made it very close to the front; more than a little crushed but with a good view of the stage.

First up were Polysics, a four piece electro-punk band from Tokyo. Wearing matching red boiler suits and black wraparound shades, they looked like they'd stepped off the set of a third-rate sci-fi film. When they started to play, my initial thought was, this is completely insane, but by the third song I found myself getting in to the music. The band's cover of My Sharona went down particularly well with the crowd. The band have an incredible energy. Singer and guitarist, Hayashi, is especially manic and his performance really had to be seen to be believed. I wouldn't want to listen to Polysics every day but would definitely go and see them again some time.

Although I hadn't listened to much of Graham Coxon's music previously, what I'd heard, I'd really liked and I loved the single, Freakin' Out. Graham's performance on Wednesday certainly didn't disappoint and was marred only by a plump, adolescent Chiefette in an unflattering red t-shirt who persisted in shouting, "Boo, Gerroff, Kaisers!" at the end of every song. I was sorely tempted to turn round and give her a piece of my mind but settled for a Paddington Bear-style hard stare instead. Graham's set left me feeling that I should definitely check out some of his albums. He's quite easy on the eye too - my next pin-up, maybe?

By the time the Kaisers hit the stage, I was feeling well past my best and wanted nothing more than to go home and lie down in a darkened room. Had I been feeling better, I'm sure I'd have appreciated the gig a whole lot more. The atmosphere in the arena was truly amazing. The entire standing area erupted into a pulsating sea of moshing bodies, arms in the air, saluting singer Ricky Wilson. I haven't seen such adulation since watching the screaming girlies worship the boys from Busted when we took Joe and George to see them last year. However, it was not only girls deifying Ricky; boys and girls alike were completely transfixed. The band performed an excellent set with several new songs as well as those from Employment. By the time, the band reached the last song of the encore - a lively performance of Oh My God with significant audience participation, the atmosphere on the floor had reached melting point. Not only were my poor toes painful from being repeatedly jumped on but I was headbutted - acidentally - in the nose by an over-exuberant fan. It was a sore and subdued version of myself that limped back to the car park.


Oh My God - Kaiser Chiefs (Employment, 2005)

Blueberry Pies

In honour of Joe's recent birthday, this week's selection for Musical Monday is not only an old favourite of mine but one of Joe's too...

The album from which this track is taken - Steve McQueen by Prefab Sprout - is, for me, the perfect pop album - undemanding yet never boring, gorgeous melodies and quirky lyrics.

Back in 1985, when the album was released, I recorded Steve McQueen on one side of an audio cassette (remember those?!) and on the other side, another classic of the time, Rattlesnakes by Lloyd Cole and the Commotions. After a heavy night out, when my head was buzzing, I'd listen to the cassette as I went to sleep and let the beautiful, gentle songs work their magic...

From an early age, Joe developed a major obsession with motorbikes and, at almost two, was utterly delighted to discover my copy of Steve McQueen with the motorbike on the cover. It became his "Motorbike Music" and, for a period of around six months, he insisted on listening to the album - on headphones - every night as he went to sleep...

As with last week's selection, choosing just one track from the album wasn't easy. My favourite song is probably When Love Breaks Down. The song was released as a single but, disappointingly, only achieved a number 25 position in the UK charts. However, and for no particular reason, I'm in more of a Blueberry Pies mood today so that's the song you've got. Happy Listening!



Edited to add: Well, there's not a great deal of Monday left now (Blogger wouldn't let me publish all day and I've been working all evening) but I finally made it!


Blueberry Pies - Prefab Sprout (Steve McQueen, 1985)

One In Ten

Yesterday was Joe's birthday. Ten years old. A whole decade! And yes, I'm still struggling to believe it! It really does not seem like ten years since we were there in the hospital: one not so small (4.12kg/9lb 1oz) baby - slightly cone-headed from a traumatic ventouse delivery but otherwise perfect - and one euphoric, albeit somewhat nervous, new mother, wondering just what was in store for us...

Joe's birthday present this year was a much longed-for mobile phone. He's been desperate to have one for so long now but, in my opinion, he's still a little too young and I was determined to hold out until his eleventh birthday, just before he goes to secondary school. However, as all Joe's friends now have mobiles and he was beginning to feel left out, we finally conceded. He was absolutely thrilled to finally get his phone and the house has been buzzing to the rhythm of various ringtones all weekend!

As Joe was not having his birthday party until today, yesterday was a relatively quiet day (ringtones aside!). We went out for lunch (Joe's choice - Pizza Hut) but the rest of day was spent chilling out at home which was just what I needed after my time away. Cam's younger brother, Gastón, called round in the evening and George and Daisy demanded he play with them until bedtime. As can be seen in the photo, Uncle Gastón even had the pleasure of reading Topsy and Tim! It's all good practice, though - his wife, Madeline, is expecting their first baby in August.

This afternoon was Joe's birthday 'party' - petrol go-karting with five of his friends, followed by home made pizzas and choc chip cookies back at home. Joe had been counting down to today for so long that I was worried that it couldn't possibly live up to his expectations. Luckily, the boys all had a fabulous time. I'm not sure that I'd like to entertain seven noisy boys and one extremely noisy little girl every day, though...


One In Ten - UB40 (The Very Best of UB40 1980 - 2000, 2000)

Mardy Bum

mardy n (dialect) a spoilt child. Also adj moody, sulky, whining.

Is it just me or does anyone else find themselves regressing into grumpy adolescence when staying in the parental home? Before I go any further, I should point out that I dearly love my parents; they've never been anything less than one hundred per cent supportive; they're fantastic grandparents and, over the years, have helped me out more times than I could possibly count. I realise that I'm incredibly lucky to have such wonderful parents and, in all honesty, I should not be sitting here writing this post. And yet, every time I spend more than a day or so in my childhood home, I begin to feel like a sulky teenager.

I am so completely intolerant that I begin to irritate myself! I find myself analysing the smallest things my parents do and inwardly seething. The way Mum prods her food slightly with her knife before cutting into it; the habit she has of not finishing sentences, leaving them hanging in the air with a "So...". The way Dad preaches the Gospel According To The Daily Mail and never wastes an opportunity to spread the word. Needless to say, I don't sit there and argue and rant and moan (as I may well have done in my teenage years). I bite my tongue and count down the days/hours until my escape.

I've tried to analyse why I feel the way I do and I think it all comes down to a loss of control. I am unable to live my life in the same way as I would in my own home. I am forced to adopt my parents' routines, to eat their food, live their lives. The independence I have enjoyed for more than twenty years is taken away and my destiny is once more in the hands of my parents. I dislike the person I become when I go back to Barnsley and every time I vow to try harder. Maybe next time it will work...


Mardy Bum - Arctic Monkeys (Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not, 2006)

Back To The Old House

Monday morning and time to head off up the M1 to see my children. I can't wait to see the three of them again; I really have missed them these last few days. I'm staying with my parents until the weekend so won't be around for a while.

Normal service will resume some time after Friday....


Back To the Old House - The Smiths (Hatful of Hollow, 1983)

For You

This is my first contribution to Musical Monday and I've been sitting here for a while now, wondering which track to share with you this week. So many songs on so many albums, loved for a multitude of reasons and each one conjuring up their own memories of places, people, tastes, smells...

Anyway, I've stuck a virtual pin into my musical collection and selected For You by Tracy Chapman. In truth, I could equally have chosen any of the other songs on the album. The album was released in March 1988 but I think I must have bought it later that year; sometime around the August, when I moved to Coventry to spend the third year of my degree course working for GEC Plessey Telecommunications Limited. My first few months in Coventry were pretty grim: I disliked my job and had little in common with my work colleagues. Although I got on reasonably well with my two house mates, they were former best friends who had fallen out and were barely on speaking terms; I found myself playing piggy in the middle. Most evenings were spent alone in my room, listening to music and Tracy Chapman's album was definitely in my top five most-played albums of the time.

Life in Coventry got better. I found an evening job working in a local pub and made new friends. The pub had a CD jukebox (one of the first ones I'd seen) and tracks from Tracy Chapman's album formed the backdrop to many an evening.

The songs on the album tackle such issues as domestic violence, racial tension and social injustice, set against the prevailing right-wing political regimes of the time: Reagan in the US and Thatcher in Britain. Politics aside though, the songs can simply be appreciated for their musical merit. For You provides the perfect vehicle for Tracy's beautiful, distinctive voice, set against a simple backdrop of acoustic guitar....




For You - Tracy Chapman (Tracy Chapman, 1988)

Like A Star

Thursday evening and a feeling of déjà vu as, once again, Cam and I waited in line outside the Birmingham Academy. The wait was to be slightly more interesting this time, though...

A BBC van appeared on the other side of the road and, under the baleful glare of two stern-looking traffic wardens, a man jumped out and began to extend a long, aerial-topped pole from the roof of the van. Birmingham's local radio station, BBC WM, were doing a feature on Corinne Bailey Rae and a roving reporter had been sent to interview the people waiting to go in to the gig. Largely because we were the only ones to make eye-contact with the guy from the radio station - most of the queue studiously feigning great interest in their footwear as he approached - Cam and I were the chosen victims and were broadcast live to the West Midlands as we answered a number of questions about the venue and what we thought of Corinne. Interview over and with the radio guy safely out of earshot, Cam and I looked at each other and both burst into slightly hysterical laughter! (I managed to track down the interview yesterday on the 'listen again' facility of BBC WM's website. I sat there with toes curled, expecting the worst but surprisingly enough, we both sounded remarkably articulate. I don't think it's time to give up the day jobs just yet, though!)

Anyway, on to the gig. I was surprised when we got into the venue to find that Corinne was actually appearing in Academy 2 which is upstairs from the main venue and has an audience capacity of only 600. Still, I wasn't complaining; we were right at the front, with the stage a mere metre or so away and the intimacy of such a small venue only made the experience more special.

The support act was James Morrison and his band. (No relation to the infamous Jim Morrison of The Doors, as far as I know). They were the best support act I've seen in a long time. James has an incredible voice, very bluesy and soulful and, at the tender age of 21, he hopefully has a glittering career ahead of him. I'll definitely be buying his album as soon as it's released.

It seemed to take forever for the roadies to take James Morrison's equipment off the stage and tune up the guitars and double bass for Corinne Bailey Rae's band but at last the tiny stage was ready and was certainly filled to capacity with Corinne and her seven band members (a three-strong brass section, drummer, double bass/bass guitarist, lead guitarist and keyboard player) and two backing singers. Corinne herself looked simply amazing. She's far more beautiful in the flesh than she appears in her photos - very petite and elegant with a gorgeous smile that lights up her whole face. The entire set was completely faultless. The standard of musicianship was excellent and Corinne's voice sent shivers down my spine. The songs were all taken from the eponymous album, with the exception of a brilliant cover of the Led Zeppelin classic, Since I've Been Loving You (harking back to Corinne's roots in the indie guitar band, Helen). It was a perfect evening and ended all too soon, despite a two song encore. I left the venue feeling exceptionally privileged.


Like A Star - Corinne Bailey Rae (Corinne Bailey Rae, 2006)