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We've finally had our first day of 'warm enough for tshirts and shorts', so Ants and I headed into Oxford's awesome covered market to pick up picnic supplies and then went punting. My blokey is a natural at this! He reckons it felt odd until he took his shoes off, but have you ever seen anyone with more of a 'lord of all I behold' countenance than this?? 
Next day was also fine and we headed off to the Victoria Arms hotel, a gorgeous spot on the banks of the Cherwell river, walking distance from our place, for Ants' birthday drinkies. We arrived at midday, adjourned for tapas around 7pm and hit the Half Moon for the Sunday session by 9pm... Some of us (ie me) had to work the next morning, so I wandered home, more or less sober, at midnight. Ants, however, was not working, and all I'll say is that I'm pleased he decided not to wake me when he came home, as I don't like my sleep being cut short by half an hour before getting up for work...Happy birthday Toots!
Have just survived (barely!) a HUGE weekend at the Oxford Folk Festival. Three days of melodions and morrismen and jingling bells on every corner, endless gigs and sessions and pints and a couple of stewarding shifts in return for a free weekend pass. (Definitely the best way to see a festival for those of us with only modest musical abilities).
Supercool, too, to see so many friends from our local The Half Moon, up on the second stage (or, like my friend Lizzy, above, out with the dancers!). Phil and Sophie Thurman; Ian, Darren and Kathryn of Vinegar Tom; Alice and Jamie and Steph - newly formed as ceilidh band Swinging Molly. You can read about them all here. We also got to hear the lovely James Bell, who the Half Moon has got to know in recent months, and who definitely wins Best Dressed Boy of the festival, with 3 impeccable suits over two days, and lashings of eye glitter at the pub on Saturday night. His gig Sunday was even better, when he brashly announced "So Martin Carthy does this song, and it's probably the most famous trad tune in England, but I thought it needed something doing to it... um, so I've done it." And proceeded to belt out a version of Scarborough Fair that was all about fast guitar rhythms and some serious tune tweaking. But it worked.
Spiers + Boden + Friends = Bellowhead!
You'd be excused for thinking so far that there were no big names at this festival - but Martin Carthy was there with Brass Monkey, as well as 3 Daft Monkeys and Wilber and Kathryn Tickell and loads else. My absolute favourite, though, has to be the John Spiers and Jon Boden 'big band' lineup, Bellowhead. They formed to played at the first Ox Folk Fest 4 years ago, so inbetween songs, the crowd couldn't help but burst into choruses of "Happy birthday dear Bellowhead". Gotta be one of the most intense, vibrant live gigs ever (with a "Cat Empire" kinda intensity, if you've ever seen them live), although I never expected to see a mosh pit at a folk gig! They so totally deserve the "Best Live Act" gongs they've picked up at the last two BBC Folk Awards. You can hear their stuff at: http://www.myspace.com/thisisbellowhead
I'm so knackered now, but I've had a lovely time! And I have many new songs to learn....
Last night was chilly, but clear as a bell at 1am, so we didn't expect to wake this morning to 6 inches of snow! I worked out that I've seen snow fewer than 10 times in my life (even if you count the stuff that fell, but didn't settle, over Easter), so this is pretty exciting. And so damn beautiful. In fact, Nicola the German Housemate reckons in her 8 years in Oxford she's never seen this much snow on the ground, even in winter. And the indian kids who live next door had a blast - pelting each other with snowballs and shrieking at the weird white stuff that I'm sure they've never seen like this.
But c'mon, it's April already!
PS, for those wondering, yes, this is our house, our yard and Ants' new car, although they do look a little different today!
... are held each year in Oxfordshire, just south of the town. For those not familiar, Pooh Sticks, as described by AA Milne (yes, it's a Winnie-the reference, not the stinky kind), involves throwing sticks off a bridge and seeing whose comes out the other side first.England being England, they've turned this into a global, erm, sport. As a bizarre 'world championships', it's up there with cheese rolling (races down a hill in Gloucester, held in May), nettle-eating (near Dover somewhere, I think), and the air guitar and wife-carrying (to win one's wife's weight in beer) gigs invented by those wacky Finns.So of course, we had to go.
It was like lots of community festival things - Rotary ran it, there was a sausage sizzle, a dodgy PA system, kids everywhere, about 200 competitors. Fantastic. And, to cut a long story short, my friend Heather came third, and can now claim to be a bronze medallist in the Pooh Sticks Championships of the World. (That's right, of the world!).
Next day was also fine and we headed off to the Victoria Arms hotel, a gorgeous spot on the banks of the Cherwell river, walking distance from our place, for Ants' birthday drinkies. We arrived at midday, adjourned for tapas around 7pm and hit the Half Moon for the Sunday session by 9pm... Some of us (ie me) had to work the next morning, so I wandered home, more or less sober, at midnight. Ants, however, was not working, and all I'll say is that I'm pleased he decided not to wake me when he came home, as I don't like my sleep being cut short by half an hour before getting up for work...
