renaissance man
My recent post about the little rainbow on Teresa’s cheek made think of John Sebastian. And that in turn made me think of the wonderful recordings of the Mud Acres/Woodstock Mountains collective.
This right-on and righteous raggle-taggle crowd of hippies and folk Nik’s would gather at a farm in Woodstock (poss the family of one of the Traum brothers? Arty and Happy, no less), for what one of them memorably described as a ‘party round a microphone’.
After breakfast in bed, I noticed Teresa had a rainbow… on her face! It makes me think of the John Sebastian lyric:
I'll paint rainbows all over your blues
Teresa finally got me out on a walk today. She’s been trying for ages. But I’ve been resistant. Due to the intense depression of recent times. Of course the irony is that a walk is, or certainly can be, pure medicine.
Using the ‘pano’ pic function vertically, on trees, is, I reckon, pretty cool.
The door pictured above is a side entrance to a property (and it’s minuscule garden) that we were quite keen on, when we started looking at houses in March. It’s a fab old stone built place. But it needed a cash-buyer – most probably a builder/developer- with the wherewithal to do a new roof, and lots of other structural stuff.
We walked along the river, from Creek Road, across the High Street, and along the park and back via West End. And what a pleasurable experience it was.
Grey and overcast. But gorgeous nonetheless. What a tonic!
I was up unusually early today. I made Teresa and I French Toast, or eggy-bread, for breakfast.
We then set off, at 9am, southwards, to the Little Gransden Air Show. I kept our destination a surprise, and to my gurt gratification, Teresa was pleased.
We missed our annual trips to the any of the local 1940s shows. So this was kind of making up for that.
The weather on the drive down was sublime. Beautifully sunny, and lovely and warm. Alas, for most of the show itself it was cloudy, with a strong cold wind, and occasional showers. A bit of a test, in all honesty!
Still, there were lots of interesting planes, loads of classic cars (inc a whole fleet of MX5s!), and even some nice motorbikes.
We took a picnic lunch. Brie, baguette, salad, some drinks, etc. It was fun. Despite the less than ideal weather.
We got there about 10.15am; It would’ve been 10, but for the difficulty procuring a baguette on a Sunday morning!
And we stayed till about 3.15pm. So we lasted a good five hours. I wanted to stay to the end, as the climax was a pair of Hurricanes and a B-17.
But after three, exhaustion got the better of me, and I was no longer game for enduring the cold or occasional rain.
I tried to not over spend, as finances remain parlous. But I did buy us some cake, and myself a few vintage 1/72 model kits (not planes!).
We didn’t get the programme. So I might not be able to correctly identify or name the planes and other stuff I photographed. But the main thing was we had a pleasant day out.
Once home, via Wisbech (Teresa bought two punnets of someone’s home-grown Victoria plums!), it was supper (left-over jambalaya), bath, and bed.
I’m so utterly shattered I was a-bed by 7pm! I think that’s my earliest yet?
And, rather sadly – for me, at any rate – I seem to be yo-yo’ing emotionally. They used to call it manic-depressive. Now it’s called no-polar. Whatever it is, it’s awful!
Anyway, I’m now in bed, listening, thanks to our recently acquired Fire Stick, to rain in a Korean sequoia forest. Part of my stress-relief campaign again insomnia.
A large fan is on, cooling our stuffy and muggy room, I’ve had a thyme tea (I’ve got a persistent cough*), and now, at twenty to nine, Teresa and Chester have joined me, upstairs.
*Note to self; must see doc’ about this.
And to finish, in honour of Bert, or Albert, my grandfather, a Royal Canadian Air Force plane:
I’m largely cutting down on the booze. That said, I still like a drum here or there. And this recent discovery is my current hands-down – or should that be glass raised? – favourite.
It’s got a hint of marmite about it. which I like.
I need to find out what this place is, and exactly where I saw it. All I recall right now is that it’s not far from Peterborough, and is just off a junction on the A1(M). A
lovely Georgian looking building, with that elegant yet simple symmetry. The two, erm… ‘wings’, with the cut out curves really add something special and a bit different to the look.
And the off white paintwork looks so gorgeous – like clotted cream! – on a sunny day, with the green lawn and bright blue sky. Just jaw-droppingly gorgeous.
Teresa often puts Rick Stein stuff on when we’re having Saturday breakfast in bed. Today this dish appeals enough to make me plan on cooking it for supper tonight.
The next three pics show how the paella rice soaks up the chicken stock.
And then, finally, to eat…
Rick Stein described it, rather oddly I thought, as ‘the sort of thing you could cook in a bed-sit’! Well, whatever. It was absolutely delicious, tho’ I say so myself.
And how’s this for synchronicity? Rickolas is doing a Topping talk in Ely, in October. So I snapped us up two tickets and a copy of his new book.
Snapped backstage at the recent Hollywood Bowl Herbie Hancock helmed tribute to Wayne Shorter. Two great artists whose musical legacies are awesome, inspiring and to be forever treasured.
Love you Joni!
Love you Ron!
This is the sort of sight very common in war zones, a house burnt-down, nought left but brickwork. A very common sight in WWII Russia, where chimneys were very often the only parts of a building not made of combustible wood.
But not the sort of thing you often see at the side of a road in the UK.
The scaffolding is suggestive of somebody trying to work on the property. So, was this arson? an accident? or someone just getting sick of trying to restore something too far gone?
The two fireplaces remain relatively recognisable. Especially this still tiled one. The burned ghost of the mantelpiece is rather haunting.
I’d driven past this numerous times. Always thinking I should stop and take pics, before it gets cleaned up. And so I finally did just that.
Walking all around the charred remains of what was once somebody dwelling was an intriguing experience.
Quite a salutory reminder of the impermanence of the things we make, from our homes to our very lives.
I met a selection of delightful members of the equine family recently on my peregrinations around The Fens. This donkey and the little pony were truly lovely.
I fed the donkey an apple, and he loved it. And I spent a good 10-15 minutes chatting amiably with the delightful critter.
The donkey was very communicative and interactive. The long-fringed pony, was more reticent. I wonder if that ‘80s New Romantic coiffure has ‘owt to do wi’ it?
There were five or six hirsute quadrupeds in this little lane type pen area. And just as I was leaving the horse pictured below sauntered up. He was the most skittish of the lot. And also, by normal standards, I suppose, the most handsome.
But it was señor donkey who really stole my heart. How lovely it was to spend a brief moment hanging with these adorable creatures.