Sunday, 9 March 2008

...if you want to rock and roll

Did it. Sang with the band. Just one song, not especially brilliant, but not dreadful either.

Hurrah for me.

Next time (assuming they let me do it again) I will play guitar as well, and see how that goes.

Mr WithaY came along to offer moral support, which was great. A few of our neighbours were there as well, so it was nice to know there were some friendly faces in the audience.

Mind you, I did get the impression that everyone who was there knew the band in one way or another - parents, workmates, friends, fellow guitar pupils. So it was always pretty unlikely that the chickenwire stage* protector would have been needed.

Their lead singer is superb. He's very young, like still at school young, but has a voice and a half on him. And real stage presence too. I like to imagine that in years to come when he is headlining at Wembley I can say "Oh yes, I sang with him when he was just starting out."

Heh.

Other news: Work is still hectic, and looks set to continue that way, but at least I have some more people in the team now.

Mr WithaY and I are on an "Eat less, you greedy fat bastards" diet, which is working. We are now using portion control when we cook, rather than just using huge quantities of everything, and both of us agree that we are not hungry, and are probably eating about 2/3 of the amounts we were.

I need to be very strict about getting out of the office in time to get to the gym after work though. I get hooked up in late meetings, so by the time I get away it's 6pm and the last thing I feel like doing is waddling and wheezing on the cross trainer for 30 minutes.

Excuses, excuses. One day at a time.

Ooh yes - the rooks are back. Within about 2 hours of Mr WithaY filling all the bird feeders in the garden we were inundated with many, many birds, which is excellent. And shortly after that, a gang of rooks turned up and sauntered about under the apple tree, eyeing up the fat block**. And the next time I looked out, the fat block had gone.

Whilst buying bird food in the pet shop, Mr WithaY had a chat with the pet requisite vendor. Apparently another customer had asked him "Why would anyone buy food for birds they don't own?"

I can't imagine what kind of mindset you would need to ask that question. It's like saying "Why would anyone smile at people they don't know?" or "Why would anyone take part in any kind of voluntary work?"

Left us all rather bemused.


*Front of pub alcove

**Block of fat, in a little metal cage thingy. In case you were wondering.

4 comments:

zoya gautam said...

..0 -potato headed yokels with something to say..look at the power of the kb which changes all that!..
without rhyme or reason or purpose or intent ,posting hereunder
,a greeting card message,that happens to be an original draft..and reads as follows..
GREETING CARD MESSAGE>

IS IT THE CHEMISTRY THAT WE SHARE,
OR IS IT SIMPLY THE NUMBNESS AND BLANKNESS THAT DESCENDS UPON ME AT THE VERY

THOUGHT OF LOSING U!
IS IT A MENTAL RESPONSE TO THE SENSES OF SIGHT,HEARING,SMELL,TASTE OR TOUCH
OR A LOGICAL CONTRACT BETWEEN LIFE FORMS,CONTROLLED BY SELF INTEREST AND EGOS,
IS IT FAITH,TRUST OR MUTUAL RESPECT..
I KNOW NOT..BUT I CHERISH U AS U R,UR GRIEF SADDENS ME,..UR JOYS MAKE ME HAPPY,
N UR VALUE EXCEEDS ALL ELSE,
WHAT COULD I CALL IT/WHAT COULD U CALL IT,
FOREVER YOURS,{in the instant case addressed by no particular person[pp]to no pp!}..just babblings

by a potato something something,{i know it's supposed to be me},but kindly explain what exactly is a potato headed

yokel,does sound good,almost like a potato headed potato-php ie!...cu..z.g....

livesbythewoods said...

Thanks for sharing.

Caro said...

A few winters ago I hung up a homemade pinecone bird feeder. I rolled a pinecone in peanut butter and rolled that in birdseed.

Not one bird tried it. I think that is because it was ALWAYS covered with a squirrel. They were very fun to watch.

livesbythewoods said...

Caro, that is a great idea. Sadly if we get squirrels in the garden, we take steps to get rid of them again pronto.