More Travels in Showbiz

I'm on holiday this week! In true frugal fashion, we've made it a bit of a working holiday and taken in a couple of gigs round the country. Very utilitarian! If it was work, work, proper work though, it wouldn't work. That is, we'd be bankrupt as with the money earned these gigs wouldn't even cover the cost of travel. Hence making them a 'holiday' has given me the opportunity to do these things I wouldn't have been able to do otherwise, but also made the holiday recoup some of its own costs. Mad, crazy...

It sort of works for me anyway.

On Tuesday, I had a gig in Oakengates in Shropshire. Nice little town, surrounded by lovely countryside. Isn't all countryside lovely? I don't know, some of it is quite dull, isn't it? Anyway, this trip gave me the chance to go and visit my sister at her new house in Baschurch, which was fab, as I don't think I have seen her in a year. 

Lovely gig for Roger Swift with Alex Hylton, Dan Collins, Kevin Hudson, Tom Little and Chris Phillips. I had a couple of very nice ciders at the Crown, which I think  may have been slightly strong, but I swear I didn't have any before my set, though Dan told the crowd I was on drugs. Alex did a run through of his Edinburgh show 'Everybody's Different And I'm The Same', which was really good!

The next day took us traveling proper. Kahn Johnson invited me to Treehouse Comedy at the Walnut Tree Shades in Norwich. I prepared for the journey with a picnic of blueberry muffins, squash, and chicken legs, which we were very glad of when traffic crawled to a halt. A lovely traffic jam picnic! I generally try to take my own food and drink on these journeys as it saves money. We were also entertained on our journey by an audio book from the library of Christopher Brookmyre's Bedlam, which was funny and highly entertaining. The jam meant we didn't have very long to do much in Norwich before dinner, but we  saw the Royal Arcade and 'Children's Doctor Tim' from MasterChef's shop!

Dinner was in Jamie's Italian, taking advantage of the early bird special and the vintage crappers (oh my life, you need to see the loos!!!). Might as well, eh? The real extravagance of our holiday (and still pretty cheap). I had truffle tagliatelle to start and smoked salmon cassarece -- both beautiful pasta dishes -- and my husband had the pate followed by tagliatelle carbonara. Yum!

Thence to the Walnut Tree Shades. This is another lovely gig, and I opened for John Mann with -- as Kahn described -- a million comics in the middle as he'd overbooked. I'm afraid I didn't grab everyone's names and have tried retro-searching to no avail, but I met Olly Neve, Susanna Jones, Martin Westgate, and others including a Laurence, but they were all very good. There were a couple only on gig # 2, and they were both very promising. Great storytelling and callbacks. 

As soon as we arrived in the pub, it seemed the local 'character' found us and told my husband he was going to show the comedians he was funnier than any of them. He was inebriated and possibly a little challenged in other ways, but others at the bar said he was "NFN", which apparently means "normal for Norfolk". The pub filled up with loads of people for the comedy, but as Kahn began compering this fella's voice was heard rising above everybody and everything with nuggets like "There are 80,000 pigs in Norfolk" and he not only resisted any attempts to be shushed, he took up the invitation that was issued generally to the more behaved non-seated members of the crowd and went and plonked himself in an empty seat in the front row. I crossed myself, I was up next!

Anyway, I dealt with him, no problem and after my set he tried to shake my hand and tell me I was "going places", but what actually happened was that I stayed there and he was the one that slunk off, and thus I was carried somewhat metaphorically on the shoulders of the newer comedians for a moment as he wasn't going to bother them. Huzzah!

I'd booked a hotel for the night in town, so me and Neil lingered a while after the other comics had gone. Neil has recently learned he is allergic to spirits, but they were doing a scratch card promo with Jack Daniels to try to win a guitar that at the very least meant you got a free plectrum, so he diced with his health and got a couple of plectrums. On the way back to the hotel, we took in the sights of the posh shops, the resplendent Ivy Restaurant, all the jewellery shops with their displays of gold and diamonds removed for the night, except for this...

Normal for Norfolk?

Our hotel was on what locals called 'the food mile', not quite as posh as the Ivy. More the chips and cheese joints next to the nightclubs, strip joints and massage parlours. Our hotel was somewhat conveniently located and priced for its surrounds. We had a perfectly nice stay, though wished we had realised the window was open a bit earlier. Raucous! We thought the biscuits on the tea and coffee making facilities were a nice touch, but there was no way we were actually making a cup of tea. 

With a bit of time to explore Norwich before we left in the morning, we climbed up to the castle. I was hoping to show Neil the Victorian mourning jewellery full of dead people's hair that I remembered from my last visit in 1992, but at £9.75 each to go in, we decided against going in.

Instead we ventured back down the hill, our eye caught by St George's Tombland church just before we got to the cathedral. The vergers inside seemed delighted to have visitors, and we got the amazing whistle-stop tour. I was a bit hesitant to go in, I must admit, as the "art project" Jesus visible from the doorway was a bit creepy, but it really is a fascinating building if you go in, and the people there know so much about it. In fact it was a lucky day as with the bright sunshine, they were able to point out bits of the décor to each other that weren't normally visible, so it was like everyone was learning something. Fans of Pre-Raphaelites should goin and see the Burne-Jones designed window. And fans of comedy should go and see the figure of St George on the font, which due to a choirboy/football mishap is killing the dragon with a No. 8 knitting needle.

Then we went on to the cathedral, stopping in the crypt to the side to see a fascinating art exhibition about Charles Bonnet Syndrome (it's a proper surreal hallucinatory condition affecting people whose eyesight is failing). The cathedral is of course a very beautiful Romanesque/Gothic building, and has a cloisters that reminds me of Hogwarts. We had a proper explore, climbing up to the reliquary, and having a gander at all the tombs. Anyway, Google has helpfully made this lovely video of our time in Norwich with all that in.

Bus Wencher

Long time no post, but l now have time to start again.

Right now I'm sitting on the 15 bus to town, will shortly change for the X7, and as these are not the snug, comfy, tall seats of the Gold buses they seem to have removed from my journey to work, I shall not be sleeping at any point in the journey unless the bus makes me. Which it probably will. Definitely on the way home anyway.

I have been using this travel time as an opportune occasion to get on with my sadly neglected TBR pile, currently enjoying Blood of Assassins by RJ Barker and feel much happier for it... Traveling by train is great, it's quick, but doesn't give you time. And I may have to get up half an hour earlier, but I get back into town quicker on the way home. The bendiness of time! Or the fact that the train is not so great: it's expensive, often late and despite the gratitude I have towards all the guys who helped me get to work on the scooter when my ankle was kaput, I just can't afford it right now. I'm saving £60 a month by traveling on the bus, baby! Sweet smackaroony!

The ankle is still very much making its presence felt in my life. Shoes are a mare. It hurts. I can't dance. Plus ca change. Running for the bus is a no no. Also, I remain quite the chubster. Haven't been swimming for a while though, and really, really must.

What have I been up to in the intervening wasteland of time?

Campaigning for the libraries was reduced to occasional angry tweets, as NCC passed the buck on the 21 libraries they want to close to 'groups' that didn't include Save Kingsthorpe Library, and slapped a big NDA on each of them. I've been keeping an eye on the politicos from the side, and watching the section 114 notices roll in accompanied by a lack of sensible financial decision-making subsequently. The ex- leader got all tired and emotional (which is the press way of saying she cray cray, like drunk cray cray, but not drunk. Though it would make sense if she was) and swore the Jeffrey et Al at the press about my young Tory fellow campaigner in the council chambers who was one of the few who delivered the et tu Brute blows that finished her off (and ushered in the equally complicit Matt Golby). That was funny. You know when you see steam coming out of the ears in cartoons? Like that. I think my young friend has quite the future in politics. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Anyway a small child took NCC to court over the library closures and won. Hooray! We now just have to see the way it plays out, but some dastardly moves are still going on, like the stripping of book stock, redundancies, cancellation of periodicals and newspapers, selling of gifted property assets (that were gifted with usage conditions, so definitely not on).

Also for the last few months, I have been organizing a festival!

View from my tent

Jimtom

Tré Ventour

Cameron Grace

  

Kezzabelle

That's the Bardic Picnic, which took place in Beckett's Park on 5th August. Still on the paperwork, report and financial side of stuff, so can't relax just yet, but what a magical day.

Quite frankly it was exhausting and I went just a tiny bit insane as I wibbled and almost fell off my coping pole. So much to organise, plus an almost straight 10 hours of MCing and performing on the day itself , whihc beats my previous longest gig of a couple of months ago by 6 hours (4 hours of storytelling at Kettering Museum - because I am a tour de force!). The sun show down, everyone enjoyed some awesome spoken word and music, and there was vegan ice cream and rhubarb cider  - heaven! A bijou crowd remained for my headline comedy performance at the end, clashing with Jono and the Uke Dealers, but I made them laugh and that's what mattered. Plus we made two fantastic new bards: Sami the 9th Bard of Northampton, and Coral McShane junior bard.

Sami

What else? Well I've been working on my downsized allotment plot. I had yellow courgete pasta for tea last night and will have homegrown lettuce on my sandwiched today! Spuds are nearly ready, plus I have more lettuce, beets, caulis, cabbage and kohlrabi on the way.

Happiness without you...

I want to write this because, a brilliant thing happened and again, you are not here for me to tell you about it.

It's Saturday, I would probably have called you already, talked about how I don't have a hangover and I really, really deserve to have one, and you would just tell me to be careful -  you would be concerned about my vulnerability to embarrassment more than muggers and rapists. But I'm fine, Mom. Honestly, I did a gig on Thursday where I went on stage after an act who had, beyond his own credulity, somehow managed to get the audience to chant, "Rape, rape, we want rape!" And they found me "adorable". I am beyond all doubt, a survivor as Beyoncé would say.

But last night I did a gig for the Arts Lab, and I made people laugh, even though I started talking about dad's accident on stage and forgot to tell jokes for a bit. And then Robin Ince was talking about his mom, and his passion for art and there was so much I wanted to be able to tell you about. If you were there I'd have nudged you at various points. And I wanted to talk to Robin as well, who lost his mom a couple of years ago and talked about it in his show, about the grief - all this well of utter sadness and despair you left me with. How it was there on my wedding day. How it has been there for every book launch, every party, every time one of my friends hugged me and said they were proud of me. The ridiculousness of the grief... how, you think it is going to get smaller, but it bloody well doesn't, it just stays the same stupid size. And happiness. That speck of light in the big black pit. I knew I was happy. I just couldn't feel it. Not for ages.

Anyway, I didn't mention it to Robin, but I wanted to tell you about it. I have friends who are still in the pit, and they can't even see the speck. No one goes through this uniquely, but we all do.

I'm feeling guilty these days because I can say I'm happy. We have barely anything: a van that could do with fixing; a car with no nose; a washing machine that will boil and/or dampen clothes indefinitely; very dodgy windows. But I'm happy... There have been points in my life when I should have been happy but I wasn't. There was no happy without you. There is happy with OH now. He has been in his own pit for ages and ages and ages... but I think he's working towards happy too. We are beyond content.

Robin was talking about the Lucifer statue in Birmingham art gallery and sensory art exhibitions. I won't mention the Lucifer story I told him, because you know it anyway and he might use it. But I did want to apologise for constantly dangling the carrot cake of a nice sit down and cup of tea under your nose for keep dragging you round art galleries. Remember the Fluid exhibition when Wolverhampton re-opened? We'd only just been to the Dudley gallery wartime memories exhibition which was all 'lift this flap'/'touch this'/'sniff this' so I think that was the sort of thing you were expecting.  I didn't tell you this was an exhibition about body fluids  - not so cute. And you and babies and dolls! So when the first installation was a cradle you made a beeline for it and I had to tell you, "Stop, Mom! It's made of vials of sperm!!!"

That and the piss flowers. I'll never forget your face.

Were you listening at your funeral when the reader said "Kath loved to paint. If you've got one of her pictures, treasure it, because there'll never be another." There wasn't a bloody first one, was there, Mom? What the flip had dad told him...?

Oh, she loves to doodle on the newspapers  = Georgia O'Keefe.

And then when they started to move you before I'd done the eulogy... oh, I'd have loved to have seen your face, you'd have been so mad we'd have laughed. Why is it the best people are the ones in the boxes?

I went to the Holly Bush a couple of weeks ago with Bec. You are now not the only member of the family to have been given a banana in that establishment, as Al Grant needed to dispose of the fruit for a joke and gave his to my sis. I remember you haranguing Paul Savage for his banana you'd seen him use on stage in a trick. I now can't see Paul without thinking of you shrieking, "Where's the banana?" at him. He finally gave you the  - now much bruised - banana, and you wouldn't accept it because the one you'd seen him destroy had been pristine. You absolutely refused to believe it was the same one and told him he was keeping the best banana for himself - which he would have been much entitled to as it was his banana. Somebody was hungry! I think we had to go and get you a curry after that. Too much lager!

I remember you being so proud of telling people I'm an editor. I wanted you to also be proud to tell people I'm a comic, but I think me knowing Paul Savage was enough for you.

I'm sorry we can't meet anymore for tea and cake or go for a mooch round M&S or the market. I'm sorry I can't hug your bony body. My god, you were 100% shins. I'm sorry we can't talk about your love for Ed Norton, or Princess Diana, or Jonathan Rhys Meyers from the Tudors, or The X-Factor which I wasn't watching anyway. I know there's a chair thing now and you'd probably hate it as much as I hate the whole show. I'm sorry I'm... happy. It has been a long time, and I don't know when it lifted, but it did a bit. It doesn't mean I'm not crying as I type or that my love for you isn't still bigger than the entire planet. And that happiness would be 500% more intense if you were here and that's probably a bit too much happy for anyone. But happiness... happened.

And that's what I'd tell them, the people still living in raw grief. Nearly six years it has taken for me... but I think I'm going to be okay. And so will they be.

I've Hardly Done a Thing Lately

Sorry for not blogging for ages... I've had a very busy couple of weeks. I've been doing a lot of editing work, and other things too.

Not everything has been a fun thing. We had to say goodbye to a friend who died of cancer a couple of weeks ago. What with his being a biker, though, it was an amazing funeral, attended by lots of his friends on bikes. I rode pillion, so had to overcome some nerves for that. Such a thoughtful day. He  had planned for what he wanted for his ceremony, but he had also very much planned to live as well, and I think there's a lot we can learn from that.

I've not had much time to get to the allotment, so things have been growing again... oh my goodness.

These are earlies. I dug them up laties.

1950s Flying Wall Marrows

Some squashes

Another squash

Squish

These are definitely not pinstripe.

Pumpkin with hand for scale. Mind it's my hand, which is tiny.

Last weekend was the Umbrella Fair on the Racecourse  - a wonderful coming together of performers and artists, organised by UFO. I started doing some MCing in the Umbrella Fair Café on sturday to help advertise Northampton Soup, and then de-camped to the spoken Word Tent to watch some great acts. It was fab to see some folks I hadn't seen for ages.

Poets with Babies

On Sunday, I was an early act in the Spoke Word tent... doing me comedy 'n poems while the greater part of the audience hovered in the vicinity of the tent flap entrance thing (to run away)... but we got there. I went to the pub for lunch, but came back for The Anti-Poet, who were very good indeed.

This weekend, I've had my birthday (my 4th eleventh one), and I've done my history-based comedy show in Leicester (at the Guildhall in the mayor's parlour again!). This time OH came on the adventure! And one of my friends from uni came to watch, which was brilliant. I've had a lovely, lovely time, but I am quite pooped and ready for bed now.

Zzzzzzzz...

Un-Squashed

This weekend, I've had a huge change of pace.

I'd been feeling very anxious... and I still am really. I think I've been letting things get on top of me. I knew I needed to look after myself, so I've been paring back and engaging with the world as little as possible.

I did do a gig on Friday, as that was pre-arranged, and it was good fun. But I avoided meetings and parties that were happening, and instead chose to spend some time with my family. I took the bubble wands I'd bought for the Star Wars party a few weeks ago, and had fun running round the garden with my nephews, chasing after bubbles.

I've also spent a while tackling the ironing mountain, while watching Top of the Lake. I actually found it very calming.

Of course it helped a bit that OH spent the weekend camping with friends, as that gave me lots of time to tackle the things I needed to do. I did miss him, but sometimes you just need space and time to get things done, I find. And it's meant he's been able to come back to a peaceful, relaxed house. It was a bit windy on his campsite, and his pagoda got blown over into his tent after the first night, so both of those got wrecked! Oh no! We were meant to be under canvas for our friend's wedding in September! Well, one of his friends was prepared to leave her tent behind, unless we wanted it. o that's saved the (big) day (for us)!

I was also quite proud of myself for tackling a low pressure fault on my boiler - all by myself! It was nothing really, but that was a bit worrying when I first googled it and read the words "not expensive to fix, please ask for a quote". Just needs the boiler refilling, was all.

And of course, I've been to the allotment... and here are my progress pics.

Raspberries so ripe they're going purple

Crown Prince squashes getting bigger

Tatties!

Tiny pumpkins.

Give peas a chance!

Aubergines getting bigger - can't see the pinstripes yet.

Little Veg Courgette - Baby you're much too fast.

But, someone's green-fingered efforts are putting mine to shame - a gift from my brother and sister in law! Flipping heck! Massive or what!

Prances with Wolves

I've made a bit of a decision in the last couple of weeks: that I'm going to start saying no a bit more often. If I'm feeling tired, run down, rushed, ill-prepared or possibly-maybe-coming-down-with-something (especially if that something is skintness), I'm going to say no. No to spontaneous drinking sessions with 6.7% cider (seemed like a good idea at the time). No to organising events someone else has thought of. No to "ooh go one, just one more episode of Poldark  even though it's gone midnight" (that's my own brain, that). No to feeling I have to prove myself as a go-getting woman of the world. Quite frankly, I am done with saying boo to geese... and what a stupid thing that is. Why do you say a timid person wouldn't say boo to a goose? It's a very sensible person who wouldn't say boo to a goose, I say. Or any word for that matter! Why go near geese? They are proper feisty. Only an idiot would go and say boo to a goose.

Anyway, I'm done with attempting to provoke angry responses from pond-dwelling birds. Except maybe little mandarin ducks because they are way too cute. No, you're right. No riling ducks either!

No need for all that any more. I'm a confident, high-achieving woman with at least 4 strings on my bow, which is why I haven't played violin since I was 10. But there is going to be a lot more of me in my house this week, getting things I want done. Maybe even cleaning the windows (weather pending).

It will all be in the cause of self-preservation. Speaking of which, I prettied up one of my gooseberry jams to take to my dad's this weekend.

And while I was at it, I also whizzed up a quick pesto; this one of yellow sticker watercress. That's just for me and my lunches that is. Very yummy too.

It was nice to be back in the Black Country this weekend, if weird through its unfamiliar familiarity, if you know what I mean. I've probably been away too long.

I noticed there is a trail of wolves throughout Wolverhampton, but I was only able to spot three on my journey, one of which was spied through the window of the No. 1 bus.

Now, the No. 1 bus is a very odd thing, because it is exactly the same route as the 558 used to be, but seems to have got rebranded as numero uno at the same time as the buses were fitted with a broad-accented bus-stop announcer. "Next stop. Dudley Rowud, Springfee-uld Grow-uv."

... incidentally  that's where I got off the bus, and promptly bumped into my Uncle Chris and his partner (also Chris).

Aw... my family! As we walked the couple hundred yards until I could take the alleyway to the park I wanted to walk through, I saw loads of their neighbours open up windows and shout hello. It was like being in Pigeon Street, or Ballamory for even younger readers. Aw... Sedgley!

As much as nothing had changed thus far and it was all super friendly and delightful, I was in for a shock when I got to the bridge that leads out of Sedgley Hall Farm Park. This was the sight I was greeted with:

As far as I know, that's a right of way that's been blocked off, and that's no ruddy good. Never mind making it 'safe'; that bridge has been there since I was 8, and before that was some pretty well-used stepping stones. Here it is on the OS map:

I wonder if there's anywhere I could complain to about this? And did I climb over...? Yes I ruddy well did! Very, very slowly. But, I must say, it did put me off offering to take this scamp for a walk... though here he is, all tuckered out after my step-sister did.  Aw, Bandit sleepy!

I was back in the Black Country to see my dad, which was very lovely indeed. But also, I had a gig on the Sunday. This was at Bushfest  the summer comedy festival organised by the Holly Bush in Cradley Heath: loads of acts all weekend, free entry, very cheap beer. I had an ace time at my early Sunday afternoon gig slot, and then hung around to see the excellent Milo McCabe as Troy Hawke. An absolute masterclass in hilarious crowd-interaction. He must have spent 5 minutes trying not to lose a heckle-bark-off with a dachshund in the audience, I fair thought my sides might split. Great stuff about Scrabble and Poundland.

Good to see me old muckers from the comedy circuit, Dave (Wolfy), Dinzy, Jay, Pete (Trisha), Cal (Mike or Bug-eyed Bernard) and Billy. Second time I'd gigged with Pete this week... and this time, Id forgotten to pack any makeup whatsoever, so I was on stage utterly bare-face, while he was in the full MAC as per usual. Aw heck, I'm just jealous!

And thence back to Northampton via Smethwick and Birmingham New Street, where the wolves looked a bit funny.

Keep Smiling

I have been struggling a bit today with tiredness and low mood, so I thought I'd counter it with as chipper a blog post as I could muster.

First of all, I'm a squidge further into the yellow, and today I managed to get back into my formal work trousers from Aldi. My formal work blouse, nooo.... it's a bit 'naughty secretary' still at the moment. Ah well, I am still shrinking!

One bleak gig this week, but also one where I got  a compliment  from Barbara Nice. I invoke Millican's Law and move on.

Another comedian friend gave me comps to go to a preview of Paul Sinha's show, which was excellent, and in return I helped out a bit in the box office. I'm so very very grateful as it does us good to see pros in action, and of course my spondoolicks are much limited. Shout Out to My Ex is nothing short of inspirational. 

I also got to go on community radio this week to plug my own show, and really enjoyed it.

I have editorial work queuing up, and OH has plenty of overtime to do as well, so we can tackle things more quickly. OH is very sad this week, as one of his friends passed away in the small hours on Friday, but we are both employing the mantra "be kind to yourself" to get through the low patch. It is really good advice someone once gave us: what is the kindest thing you can do for yourself right now? Make time for rest? Go for a walk? Say no? Find your friends... whatever it is, do it!

And I bought an artichoke for 9p. I love YS bargains! 

To be kind to myself tonight, I shall write this, and make sure I take care of me before I go rushing to the allotment again.