This feels like an important album. It also rambles in places. The songwriting is crafted, the musicianship is outstanding for a band that was still so young. Sandy Denny sounds delightful throughout. It gets a little dark in places. This was the late 60’s and bad drugs, natch. Somehow the Dungeons and Dragons elements are seen off with more uplifting, almost soulful songs.
⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
This is rather spectacular - a new track from Hen Ogledd with Scales Will Fall. The Latino horns as the track builds suggests something exotic. It turns out they’re from Wales. Clocking in at just over eight minutes, it was the perfect soundtrack as I got my head down to tap, tap tap away with some work emails. The new album lands on 20th February. Hat tip to the always excellent Late Junction for this January find.
Course or Conditional Offer.
Resisting Trump, we can build popular alliances against fascism and war
Relive the excitement of watching the World Record for texting being smashed by a Finn in a headband
Arf. via the mighty urban75.
“And yet sippy people are everywhere, clutching their bottles and entirely beholden to the contents. But why?”
Cyclists told to “share the roads with other traffic” after safety scheme branded “missed opportunity” for failing to include cycle lanes and encourage locals to ditch their cars
A tough 97-88 road defeat for the Rebels women up in Manchester on Sunday evening. We watched it via the ACE Manchester Basketball YT stream.
The production values were superb, as well as the insightful commentary. The Manchester Basktball Performace Centre looked half decent as well. We really should try and get up there.
It was a tight first half, with both teams just falling short of 50 points. The Rebs sadly couldn’t match the pace of scoring for Manchester in the third.
This was the exact same situation as the Caledonian Cup game at home last weekend. There seems something psychological about the third quarter in the Rebs camp right now.
Paige Myler was missing. I’m not sure why. Rebs really missed her points contribution. Hey hoe. It’s a long journey back home from Manchester. Up the Rebs.
To the Table of Dreams! …on Sunday lunchtime. Someone else had been there before us. The tell tale sighs were the muddy footprints all over the table. SOME people, etc.
This was a most odd game. We had the company of a fella and his drone which was circling above us throughout the game. I pounced it around a little, keen to showboat my pointless (and I mean POINTLESS) spin shots, just for the camera.
Something very odd then happened. He put down the control unit, and started to direct the drone with his hands. No shit. It was almost Jedi like. He beckoned it towards him, then raised it, then landed it in the palm of his hands. MAGIC!
Elsewhere and a game of table tennis threatening to break out. The local wildlife group also appeared to be gathering ahead of a winter walk.
Drones, wildlife and a 4-1 BATTERING - me, not her. Every day is like Sunday, etc.
A slightly damp morning out on the Raleigh electric around the lanes. There was just enough surface water to pray upon my OCD mind throughout the hour and fifteen minutes or so. Mmmm - that’s going to need at least ten minutes of cleaning the bicycle back at base.
As ever, time and tide were tight. I had a work shift mid-morning. This meant time trialling it around the Bobby George BONER route. BALLS to OCD cleanliness and splashing. Just don’t be late for work. The sacrifices I have to make these days…
Climbing Tenpenny Hill was the usual motorist dickhead nightmare. Sunday morning has more traffic than any midweek commute. It’s a consequence of the Brightlingsea One Road In, One Road Out mentality. Only two closes passes were captured, ready to be shared with Essex Police later in the day.
Chapeau!
And I wasn’t late for work.
The 3pm KO results did Forest no favours. A draw for Burnley, and late, late wins for both Leeds and West Ham. Bloody Agent Nuno! The pressure was on Forest for the evening telly game. Losing to Arsenal would mean that we are four points from the drop.
The team news landed. It looked decent, but wtf was the summer transfer window all about? £200M spunked, with only one summer recruit in the starting line up. JESUS, etc.
Forest got off to a decent start. This surprised me, and no doubt the 30,000 or so at the World Famous. Earlier in the afternoon I had told my Man Utd pal at Wiv Town that a two or three nil defeat would be fine. Just don’t bloody BATTER us on the telly.
Ana looked fighting fit. It’s too much to pin on one man, but he manages to balance the back four so we are a complete unit. Imagine what might have been if Wood hadn’t missed all season. Oh, and how about Nuno not shouting his mouth off as well? Why not go full circle and get Elanga back on loan. Sigh. We were bloody good last season.
Dominguez also impressed. He was clearly up for the scrap. This is exactly what we need right now. I remember during the first relegation season back in 1992-3 when a returning Neil Webb declared himself fit for BC, and ready to fight relegation. Webby was a classy player, but he was no Dominguez Dog of War. There’s no jingoism in there, btw. Phew.
I just knew Arsenal would score. That’s the Forest way - play well in front of the telly cameras, but then allow the big boys to take the lead.
Hang on, this hasn’t happened. Blimey. I went into HT feeling very happy.
Behind this resurgence was Murillo, MGW and Anderson all back on form. Every Forest player was a 7/10 or above as the game progressed. My optimism grew as the game continued knowing that we had Sels back in goal. wtf was Dyche thinking in dropping him?
The Ndoye sub was interesting. Dyche was clearly sending out a transfer window message to the Big Fat Greek. And to Taiwo. QPR would be a good fit for T right now. Or even D***y, for shit ‘n’ giggles.
Forest somehow got away with what I thought was a very valid penalty claim from Arsenal. You win some, you lose some.
Or rather you don’t. I’ve not celebrated a 0-0 draw with such enthusiasm for some time. We’re still deep in the relegation scrap. I hope we focus on the PL, and treat the Europa as a bit of a break. Dropping back down to the Championship horrifies me.
I arrived fashionably late at Broad Lane. No shit. Same as it ever was. I heard a lame cheer as I was locking my bicycle up. The Wiv cheer is often lame, but not as lame as this. Ah, so Needham Market Reserves must have scored. Arse. Whatever.
It was a murky, dull January afternoon across the bloody Estuary Wilds. I struggled a little with the light and photography. It’s best to focus on some of the characters, rather than the action shots. I was helped by a trip of Dad’s Army recruits as the officials. To be fair, the three Men in Black had a decent afternoon.
Needham Market Reserves were very young, and very skilful. They played a beautiful passing game, compared to the more hit it and hope effort from the Dragons. Fitness was also always going to come into this game. I feared for Wivenhoe with each passing minute.
The Dragons had their chances, but they weren’t hitting the target. I felt sorry for the fella heading back and forth, retrieving lost footballs from the car park.
The atmosphere picked up a little at the start of the second half. It was helped by standing next to a couple who were rolling up the most delightful tobacco. It wasn’t THAT type of roll up, but it did add a sweet smell along the empty terraces.
Having missed the first goal from Needham, I might as well miss the second. I was too busy tapping in the above para into my phone. It’s not called a Crap Match Report for nothing, Comrades.
We had to do a runner with the score at 2-0, and five minutes left in the game. Work shifts back at base, and the Forest game on the telly were both calling.
A brief look on X, and BLOODY HELL - the final score was Wivenhoe 1, Needham 3. And so I missed all four goals. Still, a decent game. I’m becoming rather fond of Wivenhoe Town these days.
A new gym opens at Palfrey Place, SW8. Back in the day and this would have been ideal for me. The motivation to get from the settee to a fitness station is only a two minute walk away. Getting from SW8 over to Brixton Rec to sweat your hairy arse off was sometimes a struggle.
I scroll down to the link in the local newsletter, taking me though to the website for the new gym. They’re a local set up, and not a chain. There’s a sister gym over in Herne Hill.
A quick shifty at the prices for circuit training, and SHIT THE BED, £16.50 for a 55 minute session. I pay double that for my entire monthly gym membership back in the bloody Estuary Wilds. This includes swimming, the spa, the entire gym floor and a a schedule of classes every day.
It’s all about the swimming for me. Oh, and falling asleep in the spa.
Am I really so out of touch with the cost of living shit? Sixteen chuffing pounds fifty for a circuit session? That’s my motivation knocked stone dead.
I’m not going to link to the new gym. Good luck, fellas, honest. I suspect there’s enough Bright Young Things around SW8 these days who will be around to make a success of it.
