Seb Palmer

I’ve often driven past or through Ryhall. It’s a very pretty place. But, until today, I never really had the opportunity to pause and enjoy it.

Ryhall is the kind of place I dream about living in, one day.

It’s also been a fair old while since I had occasion to stop and look at – and enjoy – any ecclesiastical architecture. I managed two today. St. John The Evangelist church, Ryhall, and the remains of St. Leonards Priory, in Stamford.

Here’s the church:

If IMHO eat, this was one of the duller churches I’ve visited. It’s in a beautiful village. And the graveyard is quite pretty. But the church itself? It’s a bit dull.

Inside there wasn’t much that caught my eye. The posh folks’ memorials, perhaps? And there’s one corbel carving that, quite literally, stands out. But compared with so many churches I’ve visited, this one’s a little lacking. The glass here would typifiy what I’m talking about.

Outside there is a series of tiny little heads and ornaments, carved into the stone. Some of which are quite appealing. And the scale abs style of this feature strikes me a little unusual.

Later the same day I was able to stop – to revisit; I’d passed the building earlier, whilst delivering – and briefly admire St. Leonards Priory. Or at least what’s left of it…

There’s an info’ board. And you can walk down to the river. I walked part the way. But it got very muddy. And I didn’t have suitable footwear. So I didn’t reach the Welland on this occasion. Poss’ worth a revisit, with Teresa?

It was interesting walking along the colonnade. And peaking into the empty interior.

The area around the Priory is quite pleasant…

You’d hardly believe you were in Stamford, looking at the above view. But turn 180°, and you will quickly see that you certainly are!

All in all, this was a very pleasant Tuesday. I did my work, which in itself I found enjoyable. And afterwards I was able to savour some of the attractions of the locality.

Had a very positive morning today. Which is nice. First off, I felt well enough to do my early/long first shift. first such shift in a while, due to this goddamn cold.

The glorious sunrise out in the sticks and my fabulous CD collection conspired to produce a very pleasant natural high. I also started a new ‘daily gratitude’ thang… and had a lovely response from all the family (esp’ dad), which was wonderful.

Mum pointed out that I had t included nature in my gratitude list. I could’ve replied that that was ‘cause I was limiting the list to just ten things. But I didn’t. Instead I sent her some of the pics shown here.

A couple of the things that make the current dispensation – mainly by that I mean working delivering for Amazon – more than just tolerable, but downright pleasurable, are the musuc I can and do listen to, and the beautiful landscapes I sometimes have the pleasure of driving through.

So… a very good start to the day today.

I then got home, and promptly fell asleep. But that in itself was nice. And now I’m at the depot, in Peterborough, for shift no. two. I do hope that’s second shift is as pleasant as the previous one? Of course, it may not be. And it has a lot to live up to! But one can live in hope.

It’s becoming increasingly clear to me that it’s a crime that there’s not a career retrospective collection of Gil Mellé’s film and TV soundtrack work.

I’m going to have to explore this guy’s work more. It’s utterly fascinating. Here’s a short clip of the man himself. With an instrument of his own design…

Here’s a full album of electronic weirdness:

And, as promised in the title of the post, TV and film stuff…

And now we’re really talking… a whole OST:

Some nice views whilst out working this evening…

I tried one pano pic. Kind of failed. But still looks nice.

I do wish I had a much much much better camera. My old iPhone just doesn’t cut it!

Occasionally even an accidental/crap photo has a certain charm…

OMFG!!! I just picked up, tuned, and played a guitar. For the first time in… ??? It’s got to be a few years now!?

Ironically it was in furtherance of a rather depressive poetic lyric that came to me this morning. Indeed, that has been rattling around my noggin for aeons:

I’d rather be asleep than awake…

Anyway, much to my surprise, and relief, I actually enjoyed the experience. And, against my own dour expectations of failure, I came up with both a melody (and/or various variations thereon) and some supporting chords.

One dissonant note: my arthritic first finger of my left hand is not helping! But despite even that, I think I have the nugget of an idea worth pursuing here.

So I shall.

For now that means practicing the chord sequence until I can get it down cleanly at least four times in a row. I’ll then (re)record it, and stash it here, as a reference.

I’ve also recorded very ropey initial vocal and melodic chordal sketches on my iPhone. For further reference.

An absolute classic. The Carpenters best album, in my opinion.*

*Subject to change, based on experience!

I actually find it quite hard to listen to the whole album in one go. Why? Because, like some Joni Mitchell, I find it emotionally devastating. Okay, it’s very very different from Joni Mitchell, in so many ways. But it does have emotional power.

The more I listen to Carpenters, the more I feel complex feelings about the core duo of Richard and Karen.

They got a boost winning a talent show, as callow youths, in trio form, with Wes Jacobs on bass (and, or so I’ve read, tuba!). And it’s clear that, from the get go, Richard – the elder of the siblings – was the driver, ambition and musical arrangements wise. But Karen obviously became a focal point, ultimately to her own great detriment.

What’s so great about this album is that it perfectly balances Richard’s geeky goofiness with Karen’s terrific voice, and it finds them presenting one of their best and most consistent sets of compositions.

Ok, ‘Intermission’ is almost a redundant throwaway bauble, and Piano Picker another reminder of Dick’s doofus persona. But truth be told, this awkwardness silly, clever, earnest stuff, is all part of the siblings’ DNA.

But the single most compelling ingredient, and they both have it in spades, despite any/all of the razzle-dazzle showbiz chutzpah, is good ol’ fashioned melancholy. And this album drips melancholy, like a wounded rubber tree.

There are some aspects of this film I love. Some of the settings, for example. And also some of the ideas. And then there are some that are less good: there’s some fairly wooden acting, and some dubbing that doesn’t help.

But given the recent Covid pandemic, the idea of an airborne disease that destroys humanity, almost completely, is perhaps more scary than hitherto?

The zombie/vampire aspect of it? Hmmm…

It’s interesting that the zoonomic pathway to human disease, for Covid, was prob’ via bats (and poss pangolins?). But one can read the zombie/vampire thing another way; as a view on modern humanity as inherently failed and flawed.

It’s also interesting in that it suggests a form of human evolution that supersedes ‘us’, i.e. humanity as we are now.

But somehow the film hangs in limbo, between these interesting ideas (and the powerful spooky images) and something much more trashy and cornball. It’s an odd ‘un, alright!

Wow! This takes me back. Back to my forlorn childhood. Thin Lizzy were my first ‘serious’ band, so to speak. Prior to that I’d liked Status Quo, and not really had much in the way of clearly defined tastes in music.

The interview segment of The Tube video is a bit sad, really. Mainly ‘cause Lynott comes off as a bit of dick. He was probably high, alas.

But the music? That’s where his fuller self comes through. And, sandwiched between the heavier rockin’ Boys Are Back and Cold Sweat? ‘The Sun Goes Down’. The sensitive balladeer in Lynott was always in there.

A girl I knew, from school, Heidi, loaned me the above, on cassette. I used to listen to it on a little cassette player, which I’d place under my pillow! I also started listening to The Friday Rock Show, with Tommy Vance; another under the pillow late night pleasure!

Above is the Dixie Dregs ‘Take It Off The Top’, which was the theme for The Friday Rock Show.

And here they are doing it live at Montreux:

The Friday Rock Show also used this Van der Graaf number:

And here they are, doing it live, on Belgian TV, in ‘72:

Ah, the innocence of youth. Tucked in under the warm duvet of ‘family life’. That particular ‘family unit’ didn’t survive, alas. And, like innocence and simple happiness, it’s all just misty memories, fading in the rear view mirror of life.

I was listening the Grover twofer I recently acquired. By God, it’s good!

It’s nice to know that Grover is loved and remembered, as testified to by these two murals:

Grover, and the incredible musicians he played with, transported me to Heaven this afternoon. As did The Carpenters’ Song For You.

My dratted cold is still hanging about, like an unwelcome guest…

It seems to have shifted from predominantly throat based (coughing, upper respiratory tract irritation, etc), to largely nasal. Whereas prior to now, I was surprised at how little mucus I was producing, now it’s at those unpleasantly prodigious levels of output I associate with a cold.

I also struggle with mental health issues. And I sometimes wonder, chicken and egg style, which came first? Is there a causal relationship of any kind ‘twixt the two?

I’ve been getting particularly bad January colds now for the last five years, at least. Always the same: tickly, wheezy throaty biz, and then associated issues: headaches, beck pain, sore throat (all exacerbated by so much coughing); then nasal stuff, added to the coughing.

And these things can, esp’ if not managed well, cause sleep issues. I have to try and sleep with my torso more or less upright, to deal with the constant cough.

I do worry that this annual pattern is now repeated every year, without fail. And in the exact same ways. I’m even worried it might do me in.

And then there’s trying to earn a crust, whilst unwell. I really ought to just rest, and recover. But economic circumstances simply rule that out. I have to earn. So I have to get up, go out, and work. Even if that keeps the cold going longer. Which I very much suspect it does.

And this all feeds into depression. The despairing feeling that things are more likely to get worse, as time passes, than better.

So a cold, or at least the kind of colds I’m getting, rapidly lead me to very self-destructive thought patterns. Based on the old ‘cessation of suffering’ gambit.