In with the new...

(I'm getting a bit hooked on these weird Victorian cards)

It's been another mixed year (has it ever been anything else?) - a world in chaos, so much political madness and ineptitude, hate, corruption and violence beyond most people's comprehension but, as always, the positive flip side to it is  the responses of ordinary, decent folk just getting on and doing the right thing. As for my own 2017, well it was better than 2016 which was marked by loss and grief from the start, and actually not an awful lot has happened - which is pretty much a good thing!  

My edited highlights - I can't do favourites and lists! - would include falling utterly in love with Detectorists and being gripped by Line of Duty on TV,  having hedgehogs visiting the garden every night, seeing Blondie at Brixton Academy,  getting some top albums (particularly Saint Etienne 'Home Counties', the XX 'I See You' and Jane Weaver 'Modern Kosmology') finding a newt (simple pleasures!), a trip to the National Portrait Gallery, meeting up with lovely old friends, making new ones, being given the very special The The single 'We Can't Stop What's Coming' and all that it means, witnessing a pair of bluetits successfully using the nestbox again (was it four chicks or even five?), having fun illustrating for a notable toy company, buying a mad stripey coat...  I've probably forgotten loads because none of it is that important in the grand scheme of things, but at least nothing life-changing, nothing dramatic, just some sweetness in a fairly uneventful life for which I'm grateful.  I hope it's been the same, if not better, for you.

Saint Etienne: Sweet Arcadia

It's been brilliant escaping into Blogworld whenever I've had the time, enjoying everyone else's posts and comments - all the words, music, pictures and more, trying to keep up with writing and listening myself - and getting to know some fab new faces and places around this virtual wonderland too.  

So, thanks; here's to more.  Take care everyone and...

~ * ~  HAPPY NEW YEAR!  ~ * ~
"May the hinges of your friendships never rust"
x

Good will to all, including the milk thief

This one really is a silly 'First World' dilemma.

Imagine you live in a rural area where there’s still, amazingly, a local milk round.  You’ve been using it for years – getting a couple of pints delivered three times a week; the milkman puts them inside your little plastic container on your doorstep early in the morning, no problem.  One day your two bottles of fresh milk get nicked.  The same thing happens a couple of weeks later.

Hmm, so what will you do if it happens again?!

1) Cancel the milkman

2) Put a note in the container that says FUCK OFF YOU THIEVING SCUMBAG  

3) Lie in wait for however long it takes to catch the offender red-handed and confront them

4) Fill up two empty milk bottles with white paint, replace the foil tops like new and put out for the taking....

5) Leave a packet of luxury biscuits alongside a note that reads, “Sorry you’re so desperate that you need to steal milk - have these on us and we’ll say no more about it”

6) Do nothing, if it happens again just let it go

Or something else...?

I'm on 6 at the moment (having merely fantasised about 4). The milk thief could be anyone, couldn't it? Someone struggling to get by on meagre benefits, unable to cope with their rent and bills, stooping that low. It's not like they stole our car.  Then again they might just be a selfish arsehole.  Who knows?

But at least it gives me a tenuous excuse to post a favourite song.  This was actually the track that first made me take notice of Saint Etienne some years ago, with huge thanks to a friend who was way ahead of me there; I was a bit late to the party.  But I’ve never looked back.

May your Christmas be wild...

...in the nicest possible way, of course.

And what better, more fitting way could there be for me to send my festive wishes to you than to share some beautifully wacky and slightly macabre natural history themed Christmas cards from our Victorian ancestors...?

May Christmas be merry

May all jollity "LIGHTEN" your CHRISTMAS hours

A HAPPY CHRISTMAS

A hearty welcome

To wish you The Compliments of the SEASON

A Happy Christmas to you!

Friendship is flavour best for wine

Take then, anew (?) with Christmas, mine!

A Loving Christmas Greeting

(Sorry about that one! It was traditional to show dead birds on Christmas cards

in the Victorian era, perhaps related to ancient good luck rituals

and as a symbol of the fleeting nature of life.)

A very Merry Christmas to all who come here and many thanks!

x

All I want for Christmas (aged four and a half)

I've been so excited about meeting him all day and now I'm with Father Christmas he doesn't seem very nice.  We've had to wait ages and Mummy had to ask a lady but now we're in his special room, behind a curtain where everything is bright red in a very big shop with stairs and everything, and he has a very loud voice.

"Have you been a good little girl?" he asks.  I nod, my eyes wide.  "Because only very good children get presents," he says.  I nod again.

"Well then, as you've been good - tell me, what do you want for Christmas?"

I look over at Mummy who is sitting in the corner in her fuzzy brown coat with the big buttons.  She smiles and I feel a bit less shy.  I do know what I want for Christmas and so does Mummy.  "Go on," she urges softly.

All I want for Christmas is.... big breath....

"A clockwork train set," I say quietly.

And this is why Father Christmas isn't very nice because he doesn't smile back, or laugh, or do anything that makes me believe he really is the best and that he is magic and loves children.  Instead he frowns and makes a funny hmmphing sound and I can smell his beard as he leans towards me.  "But little girls don't have train sets!" he says in his too loud voice.  He's not like I thought he would be and I think he's telling me off.  "That's a very funny thing for you to want.  Little boys have train sets, not little girls," he adds, as he reaches for one of the wrapped presents on the shelf by his side that is full of boxes of all shapes and sizes, although none of them are very big.  No train sets.

When we get home Mummy says I can open the present because it's not the real one - the real one will be inside my pillowcase at the end of the bed on Christmas Day.  The present from Father Christmas with the smelly beard is a Snakes and Ladders board.  I like it very much but I really hope a different, better Father Christmas - the proper one who comes down through the roof and magically gets in by the gas fire - will bring me the thing I truly want.

So there are two Father Christmases it seems.  There's the one who lives inside a shop and makes me feel like I must've been naughty because I asked for a train.  And there's the other one who I never see who fills the stripey pillowcase on Christmas Eve with presents which I don't know how he gets because the pretty tags on them say they are from Mummy and Daddy and my sister and Nanny and Granddad and other people too.  But I suppose he is like a postman really.  And this Father Christmas brings me the best Christmas present ever.  Much better than Snakes and Ladders.  It's clockwork with a big key in the side which twirls round and it has lots of wheels and carriages, some with little windows and a wagon for carrying coal, also Lego, and it goes round and round on a track that you clip together.

When I grow up I'll look back and realise that meeting Father Christmas was probably the start of my feminist tendencies.  A bloody sexist Santa!

Mystery lovechild - the DNA results are in!

It's that Jeremy Kyle moment, the DNA* test results....

Thanks so much to everyone for joining in with the Mystery Lovechild post; I really had no idea how easy or hard the identification process would be.

If I were going to allocate points for every correct answer, which I'm not, then everyone would get some and Rol would get the most, closely followed by Gram Lynch, whilst CC, Alyson, Marie, Chris and Darcy all guessed some of the suspects too.  And that's everyone who tried, so well done to all!

Here are the answers and the 'proof'...

1

Adele and Ozzy

I hate to say this, but I keep thinking it's just Katy Perry gone wrong.  I love the fact that CC suggested it might be Ozzy and Sharon Osbourne - just don't tell Kelly!  But it was Alyson who correctly identified that Ozzy's 'other half' here was 'someone like you'.

2

Joni and Johnny

It seemed an obvious match to me. This coupling's 'daughter' has actually inherited all of John's features, and only has Joni Mitchell's hair and bone structure.  I was kind and shaved off that bumfluff moustache too. There was some speculation about paternity at first, though.  Mrs CC reckoned on Tom Petty, Rol thought Jackson Browne but, as Gram commented, Joni's studmuffin was indeed John Lydon/Johnny Rotten.  Chris could see that one too.

3

Diana and Jimi

The inspiration for that Supremes song perhaps?  This lovechild might still be wearing her Dad's shirt and haircut, but she's definitely got her Mum's eyes and lips.  Jimi Hendrix's huge hand could've been a bit of a giveaway too.  Marie came straight in here with the correct answer for this, no messing about!

4

Debbie and Dave

No, not the child of John Travolta and Olivia Newton John as Rol thought, quite understandably.  Gram was quick to identify Debbie Harry, but getting Dave Vanian took a few more attempts (and some damned neat clues) and then only Darcy saw that one.

5

Madonna and Elvis

I had to do a bit of hair removal and eyebrow reshaping on this, a tricky mix, and the shadows were troublesome.  But is it so wrong that I find myself rather strangely attracted to the result? - you know, that quiffy hair, that smouldering expression, those pretty eyes.  Oh I'm so confused.  So was Rol, it seems, when he first suggested that Elvis might've fathered a child with Marc Almond, though his second guess at Madonna was indeed correct.

6

Susannah and Brett

This one proved difficult and I think it was only after some heavy-handed clues that Alyson correctly spotted Susannah Hoff's sultry features, as it seems that even cutting a hole in a piece of paper to look through and blank out the distracting parts didn't help in this instance. You never know when it may come in handy again, though, Alyson....   Now, for some reason I got the impression from reading several blogs for a few years that Susannah has an awful lot of fans so, to be honest, I'd expected a quicker response.  It just goes to show what a difference a rugged jawline and a radical haircut can make to even the prettiest of faces. Having an Adam's Apple and flat chest probably doesn't help, I grant you.  Anyway, Rol latched onto Brett Anderson, and I'm sure Darcy knows who he is now!

7

Barbra and Evan

Let's be honest, it is really quite hard to tell these two apart when you see them side by side.  Their young progeny appears to have inherited Barbra Streisand's distinctive nose and mouth though, and a little bit of her fringe.  Rol correctly identified both Babs and Evan Dando.

8

Annie and Paul

Look, just because your 59-year old (secret) Dad had a new baby this year with his 30-year old wife, you don't have to look so bloody cross! You've got your (secret) Mum's lovely luscious lips, good hair and sharp suit after all.  Then again, if it's up for question whether your biological father is Eminem as suggested by Rol, or "the boy from Divine Comedy" (I'm sure Neil Hannon will be flattered, CC!) then it might be a bit irksome.  Gram was spot on re. both 'parents' though: it's Annie Lennox and Paul Weller, of course.

So, that's the lot.   Thanks again for playing along with this most peculiar of genetic experiments, I was really impressed by the quick detective work too.   I might even manage some more one day - it got kind of addictive....

*Digital Nerdy Art

Who is the mystery lovechild?

I've often wondered about these things.   What would that secret lovechild who was born to a famous but unlikely set of parents look like? Say, ones in the music business like, oh I don't know, perhaps Miley Cyrus and Cliff Richard.  Would they have Miley's ears and Cliff's teeth?  Or Cliff''s eyebrows and Miley's nose?

Well, I wonder about these things a bit too much really, so something had to be done, which involved a lot of fiddly cutting and pasting and cloning and stitching in the SDS laboratory after the hours of darkness. (There's probably an App somewhere that does it instantly but where's the fun in that?!)

There were so many options to choose from.  I mean, who (allegedly) had the covert couplings that could have possibly resulted in these strangely androgynous offspring?

I'd love to know who you suspect.  The DNA results will be in next week.

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But is it art? V

Been a while since I last posted one of these 'But is it art?' numbers.  Just looked it up, nearly four years  - proof that I really am crap at keeping series ideas going.

Then I found something in the garden and I thought... yes... "But is it art?"

So here it is.

Just a lovely big old stone with some lovely big old snails stuck to it, bedded down for the Winter.  I'm just in awe of how particularly beautifully and perfectly they blend into one - it's as if they're part of it, growing out from it.

I took all these photos at the same time but love the way the different angles bring out completely different colours and shades in both the stone and the snails.

The stone is now safely tucked away again with the snails still intact in the hope that they'll survive the cold, as I am stupidly fond of snails - and stones.

It is art, don't you think?

Rapture (Blondie at Brixton)

Rapture!

That’s the word.   That’s the feeling I had as the music and the cheers and whistles filled my head (and the delightful venue that is Brixton Academy) on Thursday night.  The love in the air was palpable.  As my gig buddy suggested at the end, it felt like the place was flooded with collective endorphins.

Throughout the evening I couldn’t help wondering as I watched her: what must it be like to be that woman on the stage, singing songs from across four decades, there with her ex-partner Chris Stein and fellow long-time band-member Clem Burke, performing to people she’s never met but many of whom have grown up with her?  What must it be like to BE Debbie Harry? And I think I was wondering that in a way I’ve never done before because, for me, it was her (and all of them - their)  real ‘human-ness’ that came across.  All the pictures I’ve looked at, all the magazine spreads, TV appearances and record covers, etc. became secondary because here, in the same room, were the real  thing.  In the flesh.   I felt honoured to share their space.

Yes, I'm going to gush: Blondie were fantastic!

Thursday was quite a big deal for me, to be honest, for several reasons.  Firstly it feels like I haven’t been to a gig in about 100 years; also I’d never been to Brixton Academy before (I loved it).  And Blondie must be the most ‘legendary’ band I’ve ever seen.  I apply that description because it’s at this stage of their career and although I’ve seen one or two other acts who are equally well-known now, I only saw those before they reached that status, with no idea then how the future would unfold for them.  So seeing Blondie on Thursday was the opposite – a band whom I first read about and heard early on in punk days but have only finally got to see all these years on, their fame now long-established.

Debbie Harry is, of course, truly inspiring.  It’s hard to believe she’s 72.  I was worried at one time about seeing her perform for fear of her not living up to what I wanted her to be - it happens.  But there was no need.  She looks, and sounds, as if she could go on doing this for another ten years at least, but the speed with which time passes plus the reminder that we’re all getting on a bit is another reason why I was really pleased to take this opportunity.

I’m not sure I can write a gig review as such, I don't really know how to and I would have had to jot down notes…. well, I was far too occupied being in the moment, happy just to be there and in such good company.   But I'll try and get some things down before it all becomes a bit of a blur...

There were certainly some stand-out points that spring to mind first – like the inclusion of ‘You Gotta Fight For Your Right (To Party!)’  in the middle of ‘Rapture’, and similarly the way ‘I Feel Love’was sigued into ‘Heart Of Glass’ to great effect.  I loved the impressive wigging out and guitar hero antics from the newer band members...

(Matt Katz-Bohen had one of these!)

 ...and some heartwarming spotlight moments on Chris (much respect to him.)  They were all excellent, though admittedly it was hard to take my eyes off Debbie.  I missed some of the detail in her banter and chat;  I’d read that the sound at the Brixton Academy can be a bit muddy due to the high ceiling, and it did affect the clarity.  Added to that was the odd tall person occasionally obscuring my view, so I think I missed one or two focal points as well, although the sloping floor really helped.  But none of that mattered too much, the connection and the presence were real, the adoration flowing both ways.

So all the songs you’d expect and perhaps hope for were played.  ‘One Way Or Another’ was the perfect opener as anticipation of their entrance reached its highest peak, followed by other hits  ('Hanging On The Telephone', 'Call Me', 'Picture This'....)  which were mingled with tracks less familiar to me from the 'Pollinator' album that was released earlier this year.  Everything just flowed... the jubilant energy just carried them, and us too.  'Atomic' really sticks in my mind still, all these hours later.  Then the inevitable encore started with an evocative mood shift via ‘Fade Away And Radiate’, before the uplifting ‘Union City Blue’, finally closing with ‘Dreaming’ - leaving electronic clicks and feedback etc. buzzing through the room while they said their goodbyes.  Glorious.  In between the main set and encore we were also treated to a screening of a collaboration with Joan Jett on ‘Doom and Destiny’.  The whole night was just the right blend of old and new material, all enhanced by the light show and huge video backdrop (special mention must go to the balletic film of a man who gave a whole new twist to the theme of pole-dancing, very homo-erotic!)  And Clem’s stamina was truly outstanding – sure, some might say he’s a bit flashy but, well - we want a show, don't we?  What a relentless, incredible powerhouse of a drummer.  I wonder who walked away with his discarded drumsticks at the end.

It was all being filmed for Sky Arts, but my memories of the gig will be different to seeing it replayed if I ever do, I've no doubt.  This time, at last, my associations with Blondie are characterised by the sensuality of it all, of physically being there, not just seeing them on film, or paper, or hearing them on record.  It's those other random extras that flesh out our memories too - like the two loved-up young men in front of us dancing together and embracing, and that long-forgotten feeling of my feet sticking to the floor as we shuffled out at the end of the night.   The sense of elation that you can only feel, not see.  And will Sky televise her wearing (and twirling) her 'Stop Fucking The Planet' cloak?  I hope so.

I know it sounds corny, but just being there returned me to a state of slightly childlike wonder. It was like being 14 again, even though it's forty years since I was, the same amount of time since Blondie first entered my consciousness.  Perhaps it would be apt to say: it's been a long time.

A warm shout-out to my charming gig buddy too for making it possible and being perfect company - these events are too special not to share, aren't they? 

---o---

Quick mention re. the support act, as I was wondering who they'd be: a sharp-suited quiff-haired  three-piece from France called Mustang, who gave us an energetic blend of Gallic pop/rock’n’roll/rockabilly in their native language, but were kind enough to translate their song titles for us (and 'Le Pantalon’ sounds so much better than ‘Trousers’).  Good fun plus they showed great humility and were clearly honoured at being able to open for Blondie, and in return were well-received by a supportive audience.  The whole feel-good factor of the night started with these guys, so all credit to them.