T'Weekend

It was a funny old weekend. My sleeping patterns recently have been, for want of a better word, fucked. There have been nights where I've pretty much seen every hour on the clock at some point or where I've taken a couple of hours to finally drift off. Thursday night was particularly bad for the former, by around mid afternoon on Friday I was somehow getting by, almost running on fumes. The right thing to do of course would have been to get in from work and not lie on my bed and have a nap for an hour and a half. Oops...

So I did nowt much else on Friday night. Saturday was one of those league football-free days because of the Scotland game, because of the afore-mentioned fucked sleepness, I didn't get much done that day either, preferring to laze about on the couch with sport on the telly and I really didn't have the energy to do anything but that. And it's frustrating as I don't know what's keeping me awake (here's where Kelly will chastise me for drinking too much diet coke at nights! It's not that...) - the obvious question to ask is "are there things on your mind?" And the answer is "nothing more than normal". I think back to the night I got back from Green Man and the, frankly, magnificent 12+ hour sleep I had that time. Riches indeed... Maybe camping in the rain in the Welsh countryside surrounded by bongo-playing fuckwits for 4 days and nights is the way to a good night's sleep? Answers on a postcard...

You'll see below I managed to get out of the house to see Devon Sproule and Charlie Parr (and Chris Garneau, who, it's fair to say, was a bit lacking in the old dynamics department) last night and it was good to see John and hear the tales of his trip to London and Brighton. You know it's not a good sign that the gig promoters are expecting a crowd when you walk into a usually all-standing venue and see tables and chairs laid out on the floor, which was a shame as those absent missed a good night. As I said earlier, Charlie Parr was the star of the evening, haggard and grizzled, maybe not your complete blues guy archetype at times but with songs of real quality. I was pleased that the photos I took turned out they way they did. My previous camera was pretty hopeless when it came to gigs so it's nice to have one that appears able to do a job in lower light while also avoiding using the flash. I'm not an expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I know I always enjoyed taking photos of bands (the best one of which was a picture of James Canty of the Make-Up at King Tuts, I managed to capture his pretty intense facial expression quite well. Alas, I think it's gone, swept away in a left behind box in the parentals' clear out when they moved house earlier this year).

I digress slightly. Tonight I hope to sleep, and every night for the foreseeable future. Kelly arrives on Thursday night for a visit from London and is staying over from Friday (note to self: do the bloody washing up, and move those CDs from the living room floor, and hoover the rug. Hmm, can ye no just stay a couple of more nights in yer hotel K? No? Oh well...), the weekend appears to be taking shape, just need to get the Saturday night plans sorted after I return from another hopefully fruitful excursion, 3 points safely secured for the Rovers, to the Fife Riviera. But yeah, please let me sleep, I think I could do with it...