Singing on a full stomach

Wednesday night saw my first evening restaurant review for The New Inn in Coldingham. In spite of supposed to be taking a meat eater, because it was such a last minute gig and my Beloved and I hadn't been out together for some time, I chose him as my companion. We had a lovely evening only marred by my having to be very level-headed and not have the bottle of wine that I was offered on the house (I had two glasses instead), and having to ask 'sensible' questions of the very garrulous owner who kept us talking for quite some time after the meal was finished. Coldingham is about 40 minutes away from us, so by the time we got home it was getting pretty late. The rich food did not help my sleep at all, and I was awake for a lot of the night, and wasn't the best way to head to Edinburgh for work yesterday.

Still I kept my mind off my grumbling tummy by immersing myself in singing practice. I've got precisely until next Saturday to learn all the words and music for Scotland Sings For Water, the charity event I'm taking part in, and having an hour in the car singing along with the cd is helping me loads. I think a lot of my fellow commuters were rather pleased that summer is still not with us and it was too cold for me to open my windows so they couldn't actually hear me sing, but they seemed to be quite amused as I got quite a few stares as I gave it my best shot. I don't think the genteel folk of Edinburgh are quite so used to nutters on their own in their cars singing at the top of their voices. Still they were spared on the return journey as the weather had improved immeasurably, but Wimbledon was on Radio 5 live and always takes precedence.

The singing in the car has made me almost word perfect, just another couple of car journeys and I think I'll have it down to a tee. There's still time to donate if you feel like it by following this link.

I'm getting quite excited about the event now, and am praying that the sun shines for the day as it won't be nearly so good an event if we're singing in the rain. I know it worked for Gene Kelly, but somehow 300 sodden Scottish singers in Parliament Square doesn't quite have the same ring to it.

Bureaucracy

Yesterday I had to arrange to have my boiler in Edinburgh serviced through my annual service plan that I have with Scottish and Southern Energy.

After waiting several minutes with musac to keep me amused, I got a very nice guy who took me through security questions. All going ok - well alright I wasn't so amused with the musac, but keeping myself steady.

Then he informs me that I can have any time from 8am to 5pm. Fine I thought... 8 will suit me fine. But no... what he really meant was that I had to wait in all day until the engineer deigned to turn up. I said it wasn't possible. I have to go to work when I'm in Edinburgh.

Then he told me I could have an evening. Anytime from 5pm until 8pm. Sounds good? Well yes, except that for the next month I'm out every night I'm in Edinburgh and so no possibility of that. By this time I'm beginning to lose it slightly, but told him as nicely as I could that although I realised he was being as helpful as possible given the guidelines he had to work with, sadly it wasn't at all helpful to me the customer. He repeated himself. I could feel myself getting tense.

I then asked, as nicely as I could, to speak to a supervisor. I waited 12 minutes and 43 seconds and he came back to me and said he'd spoken to the supervisor and they'd agreed I could have either a morning or afternoon to suit.

By this time I'd been on the phone for almost 22 minutes, and I was far from amused, but hey the engineer is coming out one afternoon I'm actually free in Edinburgh, so perhaps I shouldn't complain.

I can't help wondering what the hell happened to customer service? As in the service is for the customer? Very obviously Scottish and Southern have a different view of how things should be.

Still I was very polite, albeit through gritted teeth, and didn't swear once, which I think is a major achievement under the circumstances.

Bad hair day

I decided to colour my hair. I've been doing it for years, but somehow over the last year or so the colour I used to use was coming out way too dark. So this time - after a talk with the local hairdresser, Jackie (£6 a pop and she comes to house), I went for a lighter shade. Jackie said that just going one shade lighter is all I'd needed to do and it wouldn't come out all that different, just a bit lighter.

The one I chose was called 'Radiant Golden Blonde' (which is one colour off the lightest which is called 'Pure Light Blonde' and I thought was a step far too far), and was 2 shades lighter than my previous choice. And from the pictures on the pack of all the glamorous looking women with their varying shades of blonde, it looked just the ticket.

Now my hair is an interesting mix of brown with more than a hint of orange. One (as in my Beloved) might say it looks 'interesting' or someone else (as in me) might call it 'a complete and utter disaster'. And it looks nothing whatsoever like any of the pics on the packet. Whatever, I'm now stuck with it until it tones down a bit.

In a way I'm quite pleased it's raining today as if I were to go out in the sunshine and my hair got bleached a bit, God alone knows what it might look like.

So finally I'm thinking age is catching up with me and perhaps it's about time I stopped dyeing my hair and just leave it to be what it wants to be. I've got a couple of months to go before I finally make up my mind as this one grows out, though I've noticed I'm already being strangely drawn to 'Pure Light Blonde' for some reason. Who knows, but maybe it's because I'm worth it.

Today's the day

It's Wimbledon! The time of year when I am firmly glued to the telly for far too many hours a day. Sadly this year, because my Beloved's new employee will be firmly ensconced in the main part of the house, I think I'll be banned to the bedroom for the next two weeks. Unless I can persuade them that a background of tennis will help boost their concentration. I hae me doots.

Yesterday was pleasant enough. A bit of bowls with Magic Bob and Joyce as my Beloved celebrated Father's Day with cards and phone calls from all those who count. My belly was still in recovery from Saturday's massive lunchtime meal and is only starting to get back to normal today. I think I'm going to have to see if I can get dinner gigs as I'm so not used to eating such big meals at midday. Still I'm enjoying the writing. It certainly is quite something to have to write a mere 210 words to express all I want to and I think it's good practice for me.

One member of the writer's group I belong to (The Borders Writers' Forum) has won the prestigious Neil Gunn prize 2011. Margaret Skea won not just the Adult Prose section, but also the overall prize with her delightful story, Working Away, which is fantastic. That is the writing as well as the fact that she won. She told me she was a bit shell-shocked by the whole thing. I'm just so pleased that someone I know actually won.

I think it'll be some years before I'm brave enough to enter such a renowned comp. Better stick to what I know I can do, like write about delicious food, and enjoy the fact that I too am in print.

Full up

Another day another food review. This one was in Duns, at The Black Bull Hotel and very, very good the food was too. A delicious, fresh, Eyemouth dressed crab (I could have actually eaten this for my starter, main and pud it was that good) and then seabass with fennel and lemon butter. I was so full I opted for a tiny portion of lemon sorbet, which was delicious. I also had a glass of Sauvignon Blanc. In this restaurant the wine wasn't free, but who cares. The whole meal was fantastic.

My companion was my friend's husband. I had hoped she might have been able to come, but she's tied up with work things and so said her hubby would be happy to be my meat eater. He only just got the gig as I was about to phone my next on the list. He opted for a Waldorf salad and then rump of Border lamb. His dessert was a lovely looking raspberry cranachan, and apparently was delicious. We had interesting talk about his stint on jury duty in Selkirk, and it was a great way to spend a Saturday afternoon. Especially as it was raining.

Meanwhile my poor man was up a mountain outside of Callender on the Rob Roy Challenge where I think he will have spent the day being deluged. Apparently there were over 700 brave folk doing it.  Still he should be home later tonight, as long as they all finish and there's no disasters.

I've been so full from my lunch I couldn't face anything to eat tonight. I'm pleased I don't have very many of these gigs to do, as I fear putting on weight could come very easily.

Time to boogie?

My man has been invited back to the Rowchester Festival. Last year he was stopped in the street by the guy who runs it, one Leonard Harper-Gow, who's as eccentric as his name suggests, and asked if he'd like to have a stall. Not quite as random as you'd think because Mr H-G had seen the Beloved's monster truck which sports his business on the side and they had a 'meaningful' conversation. And on the strength of that was invited. The only problem was my Beloved was away that weekend and yours truly was stuck with the task of selling items of jewellery and the like for two days of fun and frolics.

Mr H-G was passing the other day and stopped again. He wants a repeat performance, which is good news. And even better is that my man is actually going to be about that weekend and will be running the stall himself, ably aided and abetted by his glamorous side-kick, moi. So that should be fun.

I'd rather thought I was past music festival activity. Especially as for the first four years of the Belladrum Tartan Heart Festival I was asked to be in charge of the 'Lost Property' tent. This essentially meant that people who didn't want to look after their children abandoned them in my care while they went off and had a good time for a few hours. Oh yes, and the amount of car keys that were lost was amazing. I'm surprised that some people actually made it out of the grounds in the end. Anyway, as to the children, I was, on several occasions, tempted to call Social Services. Luckily I moved to the Borders and could happily refuse to do the job anymore as I was too far away.

The reason I got to do the gig in the first place was because the charity I worked for was supported by Joe Gibbs the man at the heart of Belladrum. The first year he did it, all three of us who worked for the charity were roped in to help, and Joe asked me to take charge of the Lost Property. Sadly Joe thought I was so good at it I never managed to do another job and consequently most of my festival time each year was spent in the company of those that were absolutely not rock and roll. Because it was such a chore I vowed I wouldn't work at another festival. But then when my man asked me to help last year I could hardly refuse.

Luckily Rowchester is a whole lot smaller and friendlier than Belladrum, and even though I was stuck behind a stall last year, I had a great view of the stage and was able to feel part of the festivities. I'm hoping it hasn't changed too much this year. And you never know, because my Beloved will be running the stall, I might just have time to idiot dance along with the rest of them.

A productive day

Today was very productive.

I spent the morning practising my bowls with Magic Bob and his wife, Joyce. Then home for tennis, which I'm so pleased Andy Murray won, and then followed by my knocking out a 1750 word short story. It was supposed to come in between 1500 and 1700 so had to do a bit of adjustment, but was very pleased with myself.

I got the idea from one of the people on my OU forum who has entered a short story competition which gave the following guidelines: Steve is a twenty-year-old delivery van driver. Julia is a 36-year-old college lecturer. You might think they make an unlikely couple, but they are the two characters about whom you are invited to write a story for this month’s subscribers-only free-entry short story competition. The story just came to me while I was out driving the other day and wanted to get it down before I totally forgot it. I'm not a subscriber to the magazine, but you never know, if I decide it's good enough I might just become one, but I'll need to leave it a couple of days to 'mature'. Actually I take that back, I might just subscribe anyway as they have monthly competitions and it'll give me a focus for my writing.

Then this evening I was out at bowls again, but this time for club night. After the last few days of torrential rain it was lovely to be out in a reasonably warm night with actual sunshine. Still an 11 degree summer evening and I'm out wearing 3 layers of clothing and use hand warmers to keep my hands from freezing, is not what I was hoping for this summer.

Coffee plant update: The plants are doing their usual, which is not much and dropping leaves. But I'm pleased to report that all of them have baby leaves growing, which is a very good sign.