Whirr Buzz
My brain is asking me disapproving questions. Why, it intones in a not-angry-just-disappointed tone, are you writing a blog post when there is washing up to do? Why, it continues, becoming terser by the syllable, are you writing a blog post when you have a script to learn? And why, may I ask (it is getting a bit nasal and whiny now) are you writing a blog post when you haven't even unpacked?
My brain is not wrong. None of these accusations are false.
My brain, however, can go and take a massive running jump. I have a gin and tonic, silence and the desire to share, all of which point towards doing right this, right now.
Crikey, things have been all go around here. This weekend we did falconry in Northumberland, which was brilliant. The falcons were great, as were the kestrels, owls, and... all the other ones (I learned a lot). The falconry man wore tweed and knew everything there is to know about birds. The more obscure the question the more he seemed to enjoy knowing the answer, which I suppose can be said for most people. His hands were the sort that have been pierced by eagle claws many a time but can still hold a pint of ale and stuff a piece of raw chicken into a leather glove to entice a passing buzzard. My only reservation about him was that he made a couple of jokes of the chauvinism-lite variety, which basically means if you react negatively to them you get told they're "only a joke, love" and are labelled a "typical woman" for not enjoying being told that you are moody and a bad driver because your bits go in instead of out. (He didn't do it a lot. I am just sensitive to bigotry, probably because I am a stupid idiot girl.) The following day we did a long walk, which started off kind of awful but ended up being brilliant, even though it was nine miles long and raining, I didn't have a coat and my boots decided they didn't want to be waterproof anymore on mile one.
Oh, also, we had falcon outfits for the falconry! We already had hats with eyes and beaks on them (made from felt, not real birds) so I made wings that tied around the back and then to the wrists so you could flap. We didn't actually turn up at the place wearing them, although that was the initial plan, but we put them on at lunchtime and Ben wore his costume for most of the afternoon.
Things That You Must Come To If You Can But If Not Don't Worry:
1. This Friday 10th June. Geddes Loom is supporting Caulbearers for their EP launch at Islington Mill, Manchester. In case you have forgotten, Geddes Loom is me, Ben and Dan being excellent.
2. Parklife Festival. 11th June. Platt Fields Park, Manchester. I am performing with Eggs Collective, on the Saturday, on the Cabaret Stage or something. In case you have forgotten, Eggs Collective is...
3. The Life and Death of Eggs Collective. 2nd and 6th July, Contact Theatre, Manchester. This is a show we are currently devising. Look at the site! Wow, you say! Yes, you did, I heard you. I am a bit gutted not to have been able to be in that totally amazing photo, but it was day three of being housebound from back-tastrophes so I had to stay at home and keen at the windows. I will write more about this whole massive exciting show another time, but right now I feel a bit paralysed by the enormity of the task. Like, shit, I should write something about this, but it's too scary. Basically, we go into rehearsals from the middle of next week. It is going to be weird and brilliant. 'Weird and brilliant', surely, is the best combination of words ever (although it is very closely followed by 'gin and tonic').
Everything is about to start whirring and buzzing about. I am a bit scared. A bit part of me just wants to go and sit in a corner and read a nice book for a while, and stop pretending I am some kind of real person who does stuff.
Now the washing up is looking at me and I have finished my gin and tonic. Time to top up and wash up.
1 Comments:
I think you are egg-celent, which might explain your justified grudging indulgence of the semi-chauvinistic jokes, the ilk of which are generally rubbish ...
6:02 pm
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