renaissance man
I’ve just sold another bit of music gear. This time a 14” Zildjian K Mini-China. Sold on Reverb, for £160 + £15 postage.
Here’s a gallery of pics of me packing it, ready for ‘shipping’, as we say nowadays (thanks, Yanks!).
So, the cymbal is packed and ready to be shipped. It being a Bank Holiday Monday, I couldn’t post it today. So it goes off tomorrow.
Next up, a wee gallery of pics from my first delivery route of the two I did today.
After the bloodbath of the first session, which finished 7-1 to Wilson, Jak Jones has been fighting back. As I’m typing this, he’s clawed his way back to 10-5.
Phew! And now it’s the last frame of today’s second session. Can Jak take this? And get from seven behind, to just three in arrears.
Gaah! Nail-biting stuff on the last black. Which it took Kieran about 10-15 minutes to get.
Wow… that was really something. I wanted Jak to win that frame. Pity he didn’t. But, still, that was pretty draining to watch! God only knows what it was like for the players.
These dark purple tulips were an Xmas gift from Hannah and Tim. Thanks guys!
Out on my deliveries, I saw this very apt road sign:
Back home, what are these plants?
And to finish, odds n’ sods: mini-tracked tractors; nice old truck; stalls; sundry stuff.
A few more I missed earlier…
To finish, the ‘spectacular’ RAF Battle of Britain fly past:
Ok, I only saw one plane. Was it the Hurricane or Spitfire? I didn’t see what I took to be the one plane closely or clearly enough to identify it. I think it was the Spitfire?
This fly past was the only slight disappointment. A few more passes and both planes would’ve been nice.
But, all told, there was tons to see and enjoy. And we had a thoroughly good time. Lots of beautiful old machinery. And it was a gorgeous sunny day, in a pretty location.
Today we went to Stradsett Park Vintage Rally. And what fun we had! First off, it’s just a gorgeous day; terrific, esp’ considering how grey, gloomy, wet and rainy it was yesterday.
One little worry was, with all the rain yesterday, would we get stuck in the mud trying to leave? We’ll come back to this later. For now, having parked, on entering the show grounds, the first thing that greeted us was this:
We then circumambulated an area at the left, which was populated with the little machines in this first gallery.
After all these little machines, I went to look at the trucks:
And after the trucks, the (mostly larger) steam traction engines:
At this point we decided to go back to the car, have a bite of lunch, and then return, this time with chairs.
St John’s in Parson’s Drive had a little notice up in the porch, recommending to the interested visitor the Guyhirn Chapel of Ease, as a ‘typical Protestant’ place of worship, of its kind.
I was arrested by this grace stone sculpture, as I entered the chapel grounds. Somebody, whose name I didn’t bother to check, is very much at their ease, six feet under.
The chapel is set in a very easeful spot, ‘twixt the high bank of (?), playing fields and scattered housing.
After this, I had a yen to quest after some second hand Robert Louis Stevenson books. I thought the little used bookshop at Peckover House might be just the place. It wasn’t, book wise. But it was in other respects.
In the end I came away with these, instead:
If we can find a cassette player, these will be fun to listen to!
I was listening to this album in the car whilst on my delivery rounds recently. And then the John McLaughlin Archives, on FB, posted about John’s collaborating with Buddy.
I piped up with a comment about this Live, ‘72 album, and the cover of John’s ‘Marbles’, and boom, they (JM Archives) came back with a post of a gallery of images, from which these are taken.
Most of the photos are black and white. And many are not too great quality wise. It’s also a pity – no offence to the maestro! – that there’s so many of Carlos and so few of the other players. But overall it’s still a wonderful cache of images.
Gallery:
This is my kind of match. I’m typing this as they play set 19, at 9-9. They’ve been trading blows, frame for frame. Both playing brilliantly. Great to watch.
A bit later… and all of a sudden, Kieran has got two frames ahead. The first time in the match either player has done so.
Well… Kieran went on a proper run. And poor ol’ Dave had no run of the ball at all. In fact, astonishingly, Gilbert’s pot success percentage remained higher than Kieran’s!
As the commentators, John Parrot and Shaun Murphy, noted, Dave showed immense strength of character, after a very small dip in his overall form, some pretty ugly bad luck – oh, and Kieran playing rather well – stopped the even trading of frames.
But 14-10 is a heck of a lot better than 15-9. Personally I hope Dave takes it to a decider. Indeed, I’d like him to win. But as long as it goes all the way… may the best man, etc.
I took the above photograph yesterday, whilst on my delivery rounds. I thought, ‘Wow, how beautiful!’ When I saw the animals (horses, that is) and flowers.
I initially drove right past. But I thought, ‘No, Seb, take time and enjoy the beauty that’s all around you.’ So I parked up, and took the two following pics:
The reason I specify horses, re animals, above, is that if you look carefully at the top pic, you’ll see two humanoids, at far right. I’m assuming now, after a ‘chat’ with the younger of the two, that they might be father and son?
This uncouth hayseed advised me in no uncertain terms to go forth and multiply, and suchlike amicable exhortations. I attempted calm reasoning, to no avail. What a prize cunt!
* Only without the complete arsehole visible in it.
LATER THE SAME DAY…
Once abed, I found that my agitated mind kept returning to this unpleasant encounter, preventing rest, let alone sleep. I abandoned the snooker (Bingham vs Jak Jones), and even resorting to YT rain vids didn’t do the trick.
So eventually I gave up trying to sleep, picked this handsome Folio edition off the bookshelves, and set off down the rabbit hole, with Alice.
Not only is Lewis Carroll’s writing utterly brilliant. The complimentary genius level artwork by John Tenniel redoubles the magic.
I read about half the book. Managed a few hours sleep. Then had to get up to pee.
Another dose – I almost finished it – brought on a second and fuller nights repose. Thankyou, Carroll and Tenniel!
Well, well, well! Three Holes*… etc. (as my Pa was/is fond of saying).
* Also a local place name!
I had an unpleasant experience with a member of the Hillbilly class of these Flatland Fens, earlier today. Left me literally brooding on murderous thoughts. Not nice!
Anyway, shortly thereafter, I passed St John’s, Parson’s Drove. I had one last delivery to make. So I made it, thereby finishing my shift, and came back to the church.
This little photo essay is the result.
It also occurred to me, even as I passed the church, that if I stopped there for a spell, and took my usual brace o’ snaps, wondered around outside, and maybe even looked inside, if poss’, it might mellow my troubled angry soul.
First off, it’s a glorious sunny day. Which made photographing the forget-me-not strewn (so apt!) graveyard pure bliss.
The church, like so many nowadays, is locked. But a short walk across the road, and a lady living at The Old Rectory (itself utterly delightful) has the key. And what a key!
Inside the church it’s quite austere, and fairly bare of Popish ornament. But, like so many Parish churches, it still manages to be both magnificent and yet calming. Grand and yet homely.
Has God vacated the premises. Or is it instead we who are now absent? My love of old churches grows, the more I visit. But how can they be maintained without the religion that created them?
I kind of get ahead of myself, in the gallery above. But rather than break up what I’ve already done, here is another chunk.
And then, around the back…
In a strange and rather selfish way, this may be the perfect time for someone of my bent to enjoy churches. If they were thronged with the faithful, it’s ruin it all, for me. And even if they’re used fir secular ends, once even another person intrudes in the kind of solitary reverie I’m enjoying right now, the spell is broken.