Sunday, July 8, 2018

Out-of-sorts and all behind-hand... catching-up in the UK, and bad awakenings

English lavender
Lavender, to help me sleep tonight
I woke up rudely this morning, launched from a deep-and-dream-filled sleep to bolt-upright-and-wide-awake without a fraction of a moment between; no eye-rubbing, yawning, stretching, just a gut-wrenching explosion of sound as some idiot decided to roar and rev his or her clanking, rattling and damaged motorbike through the centre of this calm-and-silent 5 a.m. Sunday seaside town. I never feel anger towards bikers--I have my own fair share of bionics and metalwork and have tasted hot tarmac far too closely for that. But forgive me: the word that has been going through my head every few minutes since that moment is "clothesline". So not only did you wake me up, you w*nker, you have had me thinking appalling thoughts all day, grumpy, out-of-sorts, muttering at people who don't wash their hands after using a public loo... May you read this and sober up before you get on your bike again.

It's been a busy, exciting, hard-working and intriguing week, much of which will become evident later in the year (my lips are sealed until then)... part of which has me once again hankering and yearning for a garden to care for (which was not the intended outcome), and which sent me to Heacham to the beautiful Norfolk Lavender farm on Friday (may have made the yearning worse, not better); and wandering around the town listlessly today rather than doing anything constructive, like sorting out a list of festivals and concerts to go to and to review. I have been here in this lovely part of the world for six months now, and I still feel so way-behind-hand in catching-up-with and learning-about all the wonderful UK festivals and events. It's not that there is a shortage, far from it: there is so much going on, in so many different places, and with so many different musical and artistic styles, I hardly know where to begin, and then allow another long walk on the beach to distract, because each day and each hour is new and different by the sea.

For example, this is what is displayed in a local shop window:

All local to this pretty town... which is under an hour from the county town, with county town events and big-name concerts... and a couple more hours from London, where I went just a few weeks back for a show and where I will be heading much more frequently as the year edges on.

But this summer, I am playing catch-up, chasing my own tail; it feels like this year is going to be one of experiments and of finding the way in the music environment that is the UK. It's a learning experience...

(And of other events... I wanted to see the horses training at Holkham beach, but found out they were there, two days too late. That is in the diary for next year. Maybe this is how the year will play out, filling in the dates for the next?)

Don't you dare wake me up tomorrow. Don't you dare.

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