Weekend at Bernies Part I
Well, that was an interesting weekend. No wonder I slept the sleep of the dead last night!
How great is it to slowly wake up, with the duvet having settled around you in *such* a way to make the softest, warmest, snuggliest cocoon, to come gently to consciousness with a smile on your face - bliss!
I was so tired on Friday night, so bone-tired after a hectic week, and a hectic-er day, that all I wanted was to curl up and sleep for days. It didn't help that Miss I had been struck down with some gastro bug halfway through the afternoon... MrB had bought tickets for a show at The Heritage, was so very keen to go, and things just looked impossible. My parents decided to come down to stay and mind the kids, and basically forced us out the house.
So we walked to the gig, and I showed how completely unused I am to going Out, by presenting my hand palm-down for the stamp, just as if I was get a smiley-face from the bank. I am Such a retard.
MrB gets us drinks, I glance at the supporting act, feel a twinge of *something*, ignore it, then we go sit in a cosy corner booth to listen and wait for CW Stoneking to appear. The support guy is great, MrB is quietly impressed, as he's talking I think, 'Man this guy sounds frustratingly familiar'. Then he plays this Awesome slide-guitar version of 'Going Home' and I'm thinking 'Wow, God really wanted me to come out tonight!'. Then he mentions that he's a 33 year-old guy from the Shire and things just ker-plunk into place... I get up to take a better look at him, and yep, he was in my year at school, and I haven't seen him for 16 years. Insane.
His set finishes, so I wander over as he's picking up cables and whatnot (so technical, me) and yell 'Hey! Andrew!' and he looks up, and almost falls over in shock 'ActonB! What a blast from the past!' Hee! I do love having that effect on people... He packs up and comes over to chat with us, discovers MrB is as mad a blues fan as he is, and they become BFFs. Yayness. And CW Stoneking rocked in a completely incomprehensible way. And I girl-crushed on the tuba player... ah, you can take the girl out of the brass band, but you can't take the euphonium-love outta the girl.
We all exchanged numbers and promised to keep in touch, do some quality picnicking at the beach with the families, that kind of thing. And now we're friends on Facebook, and I feel quietly and uncharacteristically happy about life.
We get home just after midnight, which would not normally be a problem, but for the fact that we were having a joint garage sale with our neighbours at 8am on Saturday. And I hadn't got anything out of the boxes, let alone priced them up. Whoops!
Pfft! I got up early, sorted the stuff, and stumbled over the road at 7:30. My poor neighbours had been dealing with the Professionals since 6am! So I spent the morning sitting in the sun, drinking coffee, sending my children back into the house for toast top-ups and selling stuff that would ordinarily be sent to charity. I've has worse days...
And Part II of my super-soaker weekend will come later, when I've actually done some work...
How great is it to slowly wake up, with the duvet having settled around you in *such* a way to make the softest, warmest, snuggliest cocoon, to come gently to consciousness with a smile on your face - bliss!
I was so tired on Friday night, so bone-tired after a hectic week, and a hectic-er day, that all I wanted was to curl up and sleep for days. It didn't help that Miss I had been struck down with some gastro bug halfway through the afternoon... MrB had bought tickets for a show at The Heritage, was so very keen to go, and things just looked impossible. My parents decided to come down to stay and mind the kids, and basically forced us out the house.
So we walked to the gig, and I showed how completely unused I am to going Out, by presenting my hand palm-down for the stamp, just as if I was get a smiley-face from the bank. I am Such a retard.
MrB gets us drinks, I glance at the supporting act, feel a twinge of *something*, ignore it, then we go sit in a cosy corner booth to listen and wait for CW Stoneking to appear. The support guy is great, MrB is quietly impressed, as he's talking I think, 'Man this guy sounds frustratingly familiar'. Then he plays this Awesome slide-guitar version of 'Going Home' and I'm thinking 'Wow, God really wanted me to come out tonight!'. Then he mentions that he's a 33 year-old guy from the Shire and things just ker-plunk into place... I get up to take a better look at him, and yep, he was in my year at school, and I haven't seen him for 16 years. Insane.
His set finishes, so I wander over as he's picking up cables and whatnot (so technical, me) and yell 'Hey! Andrew!' and he looks up, and almost falls over in shock 'ActonB! What a blast from the past!' Hee! I do love having that effect on people... He packs up and comes over to chat with us, discovers MrB is as mad a blues fan as he is, and they become BFFs. Yayness. And CW Stoneking rocked in a completely incomprehensible way. And I girl-crushed on the tuba player... ah, you can take the girl out of the brass band, but you can't take the euphonium-love outta the girl.
We all exchanged numbers and promised to keep in touch, do some quality picnicking at the beach with the families, that kind of thing. And now we're friends on Facebook, and I feel quietly and uncharacteristically happy about life.
We get home just after midnight, which would not normally be a problem, but for the fact that we were having a joint garage sale with our neighbours at 8am on Saturday. And I hadn't got anything out of the boxes, let alone priced them up. Whoops!
Pfft! I got up early, sorted the stuff, and stumbled over the road at 7:30. My poor neighbours had been dealing with the Professionals since 6am! So I spent the morning sitting in the sun, drinking coffee, sending my children back into the house for toast top-ups and selling stuff that would ordinarily be sent to charity. I've has worse days...
And Part II of my super-soaker weekend will come later, when I've actually done some work...
posted by actonb at 10:00 am
2 Comments:
Sorry this is late, but I think you should know that I played the euphonium for six years, including, on one occasion, whilst marching in an Anzac day parade.
Great post!
Heh - a fellow Euphonium-player! Who'da thunk it? I think it's a very small and elite club...
I once had a solo at the Opera House. A very short 3-bar solo, but a solo nonetheless. I miss my euphonium...
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