You do too much

EyeSeeSound TV: Shadow Orchestra live session

February 8, 2010 · Leave a Comment

The only thing weirder than playing a gig on a Sunday afternoon is playing a gig on a Sunday afternoon to an audience of about four people. But this wasn’t a disastroud gig from hell – no, The Shadow Orchestra were shooting a live session for EyeSeeSound TV at the Luminaire in Kilburn, and the audience was Jules the producer and his lovely team.

It’s a very strange feeling to set up, get all dressed up, soundcheck and play a gig with nothing but a bunch of cameras staring at you – though it does avoid the horrific purgatory between the soundcheck and the gig.

Anyway, we had a really great time and played five songs – Direct Out, Creaking and Bowing, Bones, Sweet as a Nut and Rocket Pack. The guys from EyeSeeSound will pick three to put up on their site, along with an interview with Chris and Mary.  Not only will it go up soon on their website, but there will be a DVD as well. Apparently the rushes look great, and I can’t wait to see the finished product. Exciting!

Here’s a few backstage pics:

The boys making themselves look purty

Mary relaxes backstage, taking advantage of the expertly made tea and tasty snacks (thanks, Jules!)

Me, sporting my glam new Canadian makeup - only slightly looking like it was put on by a five-year-old. Probably should have picked a proper mirror rather than the weird carved one, too.

→ Leave a CommentCategories: Music · The Shadow Orchestra

Addicted to glove – still hooked

February 6, 2010 · Leave a Comment

Despite the title, this isn’t a post about crochet. Here’s the fourth pair of Gasteropoda mitts I’ve made – the most recent result of a gripping and intense addiction that fortunately resulted in the production of a number of Christmas presents, rather than me selling my body down the Shacklewell Road or slumping in a doorway mumbling to myself.

The last pair for now?

Owing to a yarn shortage, this pair was slightly shorter than the previous pairs I’ve made, and dont have thumb gussets.  To be honest, knitting the gussets was a right pain and the lack of them doesn’t seem particularly detrimental to the mittens.

Anyway, I ended up with this much yarn left at the end – how’s that for efficiency?

Phew! That was close...

I might make some more of these from some of the yarn I recently bought in Toronto, but I think I probably need to go cold turkey for a bit first.

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Another beanie for Kathrin

February 3, 2010 · Leave a Comment

Kathrin-from-Belleruche was so impressed with the last beanie hat I (eventually) made her, she asked for another one! This time, to be made in black and slightly longer.

I used the same pattern as last time, but added a couple of extra rows in each knitted section, before and after the cables, and about 5 more rows on the edging.  This used almost exactly 2 balls of Rowan Cotton Glace – there was just a tiny nubbin left over. By the end I was actually knitting from two ends of one ball, desperately trying to knit faster before the yarn ran out, and having terrible flashbacks.

Kathrin's beanie - redux. Unfortunately modelled by me, not the lovely Kathrin.

Next, I have an awesome knitting and steeking project to show you, once I can figure out how to sort the video out. Yes – video. Be afraid…

→ Leave a CommentCategories: Knitting

What the hell do they put in this stuff?

February 1, 2010 · 2 Comments

Living in a shared house has its ups and downs. On the plus side, I have a readymade family of friends, it’s cheap, we have a cleaner, and sometimes my housemate Duck cooks us all fajitas.

On the down side, I keep unearthing hidden “treasures” from the fridge and cupboards. While having a clear-out before Christmas I found this packet of hot-dog buns -  unwanted BBQ fodder left over from the summer:

The expiry date reads "11-09-09". These were unearthed in late November, having lain undisturbed since June

Upon opening the packet the buns appeared to be in perfectly good condition in terms of texture, smell and general appearance. But despite my scientific leanings, I confess I didn’t try eating one in the quest for a full assessment of their properties.

Although it’s nowhere close to hitting the 30-year vintage of the world’s oldest Twinkie, I am staggered by the longevity of these humble buns. What on earth do they put in them? Formaldehyde?

Or is our bread-bin the modern equivalent of a pyramid?

→ 2 CommentsCategories: Cakes etc · Comedy · General bimbling

Cross-cultural confusion

January 29, 2010 · 3 Comments

The milk in Canada has a rather distinctive flavour…

→ 3 CommentsCategories: Comedy · General bimbling

Yarn porn

January 28, 2010 · 1 Comment

As well as being an opportunity to visit my gorgeous niece, my recent trip to Toronto was another chance to lose my marbles in Romni Wools – heaven in a yarn store. And (oh my!) someone else was paying, as Ricky had agreed to buy me some yarn for my birthday.  Is he perfect or what?

Here’s the haul:

Wool, glorious wool

From the top: two skeins of Lamb’s Pride in a lovely variegated blue, destined to become Fuzzy Feet; two balls of Regia sock yarn in different colours (possibly for socks but maybe a hat); some aran-weight pure wool to make a faux-isle hat or two (the colour hasn’t come out so well, it’s more jewel-like in real life); some lovely multi-coloured sock yarn to make more Gasteropoda mitts; two coars felting needles and two fine ones; three circular needles and a copy of Interweave Felt magazine.

It cost far too much – I can only think it must be love.

→ 1 CommentCategories: Knitting

Chloe – a Love Story

January 26, 2010 · 14 Comments

Chloe and Auntie Kat

Chloe and Auntie Kat

This is probably the most personal thing I’ve ever posted on here so far. I’ve just come back from a wonderful  week in Toronto visiting my sister, her husband and their daughter, Chloe, who is now nearly two.   I wrote the piece below on the plane home, mostly in tears.  If you’re after something funnier and less sentimental, there’s always my list of Good Things and Bad Things about Canada from my last visit instead.

I am a big girl, and I am going to be brave. I watch your little pink boots march away across the departure hall and tears sting my eyes. But I am not going to cry. Not when you can see.

When Mama turns you round to wave again, you will not see the shiny beads gathering or know that my lips are pressed so tightly together I can taste blood. Mama holds your hand, her camel-coloured grown-up coat brushing against the lilac puff of your snow-suit.

I watch your bright pink hat bobble away across the vaulted concourse, feeling sorry for Baby as her plastic feet drag on the concrete floor. I walk backwards, pushing my suitcase behind me, waving desperately until you both hang right and vanish through the double doors.

I can still smell your hair.

And then I will cry. I will howl and wail, hoisting my breath inside me in shallow, hiccupy gasps. I will cling to the long-suffering man beside me, snuffling into his chest and pulling on his collar, lost in the grief of separation. Travellers stare, although the check-in staff have seen it all before. We pilfer serviettes from a coffee stand. I stand there, head tilted up as he wipes my face, just as I did for you a few minutes ago.

Later I sit in a bar, drinking too much white wine and eating what I swear is my last plate of chips for at least a year. I send your Mama a text, thanking her for everything, and hoping to see her again soon. Deep down she will know that I’m really talking about you. And I cry a bit more.

We fly over your native land, perforated with lakes and threaded with rivers. Villages and towns sparkle like stars strung along the galaxy of the Gulf of St Lawrence. Tim Horton’s coffee. Butter tarts. Romni Wool – the best yarn store in Ontario. A child’s life captured in six-month snapshots and shopping trips. We chase the sunset round the world as time races past us.

You are five weeks old, asleep on my chest. I change your nappies and walk you round the park for hours while Mama finally manages to have a bath. You are nine months old, balancing a plastic mixing bowl on your head, chubby arms waving in delight while your face flames red with incoming teeth.

You are a year and a half, hiding behind Mama’s legs and whispering my name in my absence. We finally bond in the paddling pool – you in your first swimsuit and me with my skirt hitched into my knickers, wriggling our hands to make bubbles in the cool water.

And now you are nearly two. For one delicious week I blow raspberries on your belly and make you Play-Doh cats. You can talk. You can sing. You can count. I am so proud of you it hurts. And I know it’s only going to get better from here.

Perhaps this is it. Maybe I am too old, or just too selfish, to produce a cousin for you. Maybe I can’t. Maybe I don’t want to. And maybe I am too scared to even try. Maybe a perfect day only dawns once.

→ 14 CommentsCategories: Writing

On being a lady

January 23, 2010 · 15 Comments

Ladies

Many people struggle with being a lady

Although blessed with two X chromosomes – the biological spec for a human female – I struggle with being a lady. This may be surprising to you, given that the harp is often considered to be the most ladylike of all instruments. And I love shoes, baking and knitting (and playing women’s rugby – sadly no more after nearly breaking a hand before an important gig…)

But it’s not lady-like activities I struggle with. It’s the rest of the girly stuff – the presentation. My nails are nibbled and scratched. My hair is perma-frizzy – straightened only for high days and holidays. I tried curlers once and ended up looking like I’d lost a battle with a power socket. My house is a mess – I wish for the elegant surroundings of the Domestic Sluts but end up with piled books, crumpled papers and stinky trainers. I don’t wear makeup, except for gigs and big nights out. And I bloody hate romantic comedies.

I don’t fare any better in the clothing department, as witnessed by my previous post on fashion. Although I love dressing up for special occasions and gigs, you can guarantee I’ll spill something down my front – toothpaste, coffee, curry are my favourite accessories. I would love to wear ditsy little cardigans, but I get cold too easily. And far from being a co-ordinated heaven of colour-matched scraps of silk and satin, my underwear drawer is bursting with ASDA socks, sturdy bras and M&S pants.

As a cyclist, I’m stuck with the fluorescent cycling jacket and helmet-hair. And I’m more often found in my sports kit or jeans than flirty tea dresses, which have a tendency to ride up terribly under my rucksack. Ah yes, the rucksack. Probably the single thing that does most to quash my femininity. Because I cycle, I’m usually hauling huge amounts of crap around (change of clothes, packed lunch, knitting, puncture repair kit, kitchen sink….), I rely on my trusty rucksack. Although it’s highly practical, it’s not exactly elegant or ladylike. And when I do venture out without it (feeling strangely exposed), I have a small selection of practical and sturdy corduroy or felt shoulder bags. None of which are very feminine.

To rectify this situation, I recently bought my first proper handbag. It’s big, it’s purple, it’s leather, it has a pink satin lining and a massive shiny clasp, and it cost more than I would normally spend on a suitcase. It does not have a long shoulder strap – portage is solely in the hand or cheekily slung over the shoulder and tucked under the elbow, like a proper lady.

Over the past few weeks, a combination of poor weather and illness mean I have been unable to cycle to work. So I have been experimenting with the handbag, hoping that it will be my first step along the road to true lady-hood.

Preliminary results are not promising.

For a start, I miss the protective turtle-shell of my rucksack – the reassuring clasp of the padded strap as it clips around my waist, and the balanced weight on my back. One problem with having a handbag is that it drags you down on one side, like Quasimodo in heels. It also makes me feel vulnerable – anyone with a firm grip and a bit of determination could snatch it. Just try doing that to a rucksack buckled on in two places!

But the biggest problem with the handbag is the issue of organisation. I cannot find anything in it. The other night I ended up squatting on the floor of an achingly trendy bar, pulling out knitting, hair straighteners, knickers, plastic bags and rogue receipts in a desperate attempt to find my purse. It’s like the bloody Tardis in there – I’m sure I spotted a Dalek when I was looking for tampons. Perhaps there is some secret lady-trick to organising your handbag that I have yet to be initiated into. Or maybe I just need to wean myself off carrying so much crap around.

My quest for femininity continues. I am slowly learning to stop biting my nails (and resist chewing off any coating of polish I manage to paint on). I am making an effort to actually shower and change out of my sports kit when I get to work – although my colleagues are a tolerant (and apparently anosmic) bunch, it’s not terribly professional to scamper off to important meetings in leggings, T-shirt and trainers.

But it also strikes me that being a lady takes up so much time and effort. Putting makeup on and doing the hair every morning, managing to pair up (or even just buy) matching bra and knicker sets, doing the nails – and (of course) the hours spent rummaging in the multi-dimensional handbag. I could be spending that time sleeping, eating, practising, or even just managing to do the bare minimum of laundry to stop me being mistaken for a tramp.

Do you feel like a proper lady? If so, how do you manage it? Or do you shun the dictatorship of hair’n'face’n'nails? And does anyone know I can take control of my handbag?

→ 15 CommentsCategories: Comedy · Writing

An evening with The Residents

January 20, 2010 · Leave a Comment

The Residents

The Residents - stripped back jazz and soul

Having a birthday in mid-January sucks – it’s cold, people have given up drinking, and nobody has any money. But this year I was saved from birthday misery by Kathrin from Belleruche, and her new jazz night at the A Lounge under the Albannach in Trafalgar Square, featuring house band The Residents and special guests.

They made their debut last Thursday (the day before my birthday) to a packed bar. As well as Kathrin’s divine vocals, Richard Spaven adds his superb drumming skills, and “Level” Neville Malcolm provides double bass. And there’s some smooth horn playing from Tom Allan.

I had a brilliant time listening to their expert musicianship, and fawning over the gorgeous and super-talented guest guitarist Ricky Fabulous (also from Belleruche… and the man crazy enough to ask me to marry him). Even though I didn’t get breathy Marilyn Monroe-style Happy Birthday from Kathrin…

Here’s a couple of pics from the night – not taken by me (in that they’re not horrendously bad and blurred). I think these might have been taken by the lovely Fred.

The divine Miss De Boer

Kathrin on the left, Ricky on the right, Richard in the middle

Anyway.  If you like good music and whisky cocktails (which are awesome – I recommend the whisky sour), then get yourself along there this Thursday, and every Thursday. The Residents residency is for a limited time only – and I may even join them at some point on the clarinet too…

→ Leave a CommentCategories: Listening · Music

Shadow Orchestra sneaky peeks – Part 3

January 18, 2010 · Leave a Comment

Album out in the Spring, with a bit of luck.

Here’s the final pair of previews from the upcoming Shadow Orchestra album. Thanks for all your feedback so far, it’s been great.

Next in the jukebox is another new tune called Rocket Pack. Like Direct Out, this owes a big debt to ex-guitarist Sam Walton, as it came out of one of the near-legendary Treacle jam sessions.

Link to download Rocket Pack (edit)

Last but not least, a very old track – Plucking and Bowing. Like Bones, this has been through several evolutions, from an instrumental that’s been in our set from the very beginning through to a lush vocal track.  Mary and Chris share vocal duties here, and I think it’s got more than a touch of the XX about it.

Link to download Plucking and Bowing (edit)

If you’re a promoter/DJ please get in touch with Chris Bangs for full-length mp3s, demo CDs or booking enquiries.

→ Leave a CommentCategories: Music · The Shadow Orchestra