Saturday, 28 February 2009

Yes I'm Gonna Be A Star.


I came across this picture of my eldest son and one of his best chums on his FaceBook page.

That's my lad out of focus.

But what a BRILLIANT picture!
I believe it was taken very early one morning after an 'interesting' night.


Current Pain Rating: 1

Sunday, 22 February 2009

Baby You Can Drive My Car.

Ha, I have eventually got my car back. It's only cost me around £400 extra for my holiday by leaving the carkeys in Sweden! Geoffrey the bass player has just delivered it for me. Trouble is that I am not allowed to drive it. The physio chap said that I should not drive until I have done lots of strengthening exercises and seen him again (on the 3rd of March) for clearance. He said that if I did drive and had to 'grab' the wheel in an emergency all hell could break loose! Also he recommended that I use codeine again for a while as the exercises were likely to hurt like hell. Great, ya just wean yerself off it and then it's back on! Still, it works better now and the medical professional was right - I do need it.

Yesterday I managed a few chords on the guitar - what a great feeling after so long. It was all going really well for a good two minutes until I tried one of my favourite lead licks and nearly went through the roof! Do you know boys and girls, I ACTUALLY swore!

Little and often will be the way forward I think.

It's all good.

To be fair, I have had no arthritic pain whatsoever in the altered joint since the surgery and that in itself is magnificent.

Current Pain Rating: 1 ( 7 after exercises)

Friday, 20 February 2009

Physiotherapy......

............begins today at nine. The old thumb is much, much better, but still quite painful if I move it. I want my car back, I want to play guitar ASAP and I want a big fat brass slide to play it with. Yep, I'm gonna try slide geetar yet again. I reckon poor tools have put me off in the past, so I'm gonna try to find a slide that actually fits my somewhat large pinky and set the SG up properly tuned to open E.

Current Pain Rating: 0.5 - 1 (variable depending upon usage)

Sunday, 15 February 2009

Décrocher


Today I have stopped the painkillers - well, the day before yesterday actually when I ran out of codeine.
Welcome to the self dancing legs, hot/cold flushes and flights of bats.

Great.



Watch this space for a full report of the Swedish trip.


Current Pain Rating (hand): 1

Saturday, 14 February 2009

That Swedish Trip in Full

OK, fasten your safety belts - this one is gonna be a long haul

The memsahib and I have recently returned from an excellent holiday in Sweden - here is the tale:

Some of the pictures were taken with my phone and are a bit less sharp - sorry! (Remember you can click on the pictures for the big version)

Friday February 6th

We awake early to drive to Stansted airport for the evening flight for Vasteras in Sweden. Having anticipated some snow, I am surprised to find that it has been snowing constantly all night and there are several inches of the white stuff on the ground.









And on the car!







And everywhere - and is is still snowing....HARD!
Possibly the worst weather in the UK for 10 years or more. Great!


Cath is driving and we set off hoping that we can get to a main road which will be clear. There are severe weather warnings for the entire route of our journey and people are advised not to drive unless absolutely necessary. Now the little village of Churchinford where we live is peculiar in that every road out of the village (there are 6) is uphill. The BMW gracefully exits it's parking space and sets off down towards the centre of the village - it's seriously slippy but we are moving.

Mission controller Thrasher decides it would be a good idea to try to get some speed up and take a run at the hill. WRONG! We end up stuck outside the village pub, going sideways with a delighted audience of local folks. After much pushing, shoving digging and head scratching, one of them, Bert gets his big Toyota land cruiser, hooks the BMW to the back of it and of we go with Bert and Crow in the big Toyota and me steering the BMW which is just sliding all over the road, literally flapping about behind the Toyota, which Bert is driving at around 20 mph - it seems like 60 and is a really hard fight to try to steer. I hurt my thumb. Eventually, I put the BMW in neutral and kind of give up on the steering apart from during the worst slides, content to be towed in the manner of an up-market blue snow plough!

After about two miles of this, through deep snow, we meet a man coming the other way on foot who tells us that there is a big tree down across the main road into town. That's that then. There is another road, but we decide that if it is as snowbound as this one, it will be too treacherous to even attempt. We abandon the BMW, transfer the luggage to the Land Cruiser and head for home. When we get back we are told that the other road into town has been ploughed and is passable, so Bert (bless him) decides we will go and have a look. When we get there the road is clear, so we go and hook up the BMW again and Bert tows us to the clear road. Made it. Two and a half hours to do around about three miles.

The next two hundred and thirty miles are easy-peasy, the main roads to town are reasonably clear and the motorways all have two lanes ploughed and are virtually traffic free. We get to Stansted in good time, sort out the mysteries of Ryanairs automated check in and board the jet.

We have to wait for the wings to be de-iced during which time the ground crew go off for a cup of tea and we have to wait for them to come back as well. Then the good bit - taking off - I seriously LOVE this experience - always have, always will - it's a power thing - if I could shoehorn a Rolls Royce jet into a bike frame I would (yes, I know it's been done.)


Nice flight to Sweden, lands about 50 minutes late and we are met by our friend Jane, driven back to her place through the snow and to a nice cup of tea and a nicer warm bed.

Saturday February 7th






Up early for the 100km drive to Stockholm where Jane has to go to work for a couple of hours and Cath and I do some sightseeing and have lunch.

They have pointy buildings.....................









............HUGE pubs (actually, it's a department store).....................

.....................big boats with a front that comes off.......................

...............nice people giving away free hot blueberry soup.............. ..................icebergs in the river................................





.................and, of course, pygmy ponies.

I searched everywhere for a dental floss bush, but there were none to be found!

In the evening we party with our friends - we are celebrating Gorans 50th birthday and there are all sorts of people there - robot scientists, teachers, nuclear physicists, some from Blighty others from South Africa, most from Vasteras itself. Its a great party with excellent food provided by Jane and her mum and daughter.


About halfway through, a slightly worse for wear Catherine whispers in my ear 'Ern, they are all putting their keys in a pot by the door.............and I haven't got any keys - what will I do, I'll be left with the dregs.'

Poor girl has mistaken the house key stash for a swingers party vessel and is quite peturbed. Our fellow party go-ers kindly explain that without keys you can't join in - pisstaking bastards!


Take note of this key pot, it appears again later in the tale!



Things wind down about 3 a.m and the locals get on their bikes to pedal precariously home in a blizzard.


Sunday 8th February


Today the Swedish contingent have hangovers. Cath and I don't, she because she went to bed fairly early and slept it off, me because I took it easy and am dropping so much codeine that a hangover never has even the slightest look in.


We rise late and go for a walk around the local area in a blizzard with temperatures of -10. Quite refreshing. Then back to the house to feast on party food for Sunday dinner followed by an early night.


Monday 9th February


Up early to travel to the farm in the wilderness where we are to spend the day and the night experiencing life in the Swedish outback! A long train journey through Uppsala and Gavle then on to Soderhamn where our host meets us in her car. The roads are ice with a thin covering of snow, but these machines have superb winter tyres and within the hour we have made the 40 km journey to the farm.

It is stunningly beautiful and after being shown to our room , unpacking and having coffee with hardbread and home made honey (yes, they keep bees here!), it's off for a sleighride.

It gets dark early, although it's hard to tell as there is a very bright full moon. Cath and I get dressed for a ramble in the snow and to maybe chase down some owls (or at least hear them).


The snow is beautiful at night and we are out for much longer than we thought in temperatures of around -15. We don't really notice as we are enjoying it so much. Our hosts Åsa and Lasse swear they can distinguish the northern lights on the horizon, but that the full moon is masking them. I'm not so sure, but we had a good time trying to convince ourselves that we had seen them.

Tuesday 10th February

We leave the farm around 10ish after a breakfast of boiled eggs, ham, toast, honey and strong hot coffee. Ace!
Another 40 km drive to Jarvso, a small Ski resort which also has a zoo full of the local animals. It is -20 here, colder than your freezer, but not painful as we are well wrapped up and it is 'dry' cold.


The zoo is under about 10 inches of snow and some of the animals are hiding/hibernating (the bears), but we get to see Elk, Wolves, Wolverines (in the distance) and lots of birds of prey.


It is pretty cold after a couple of hours, but the ever thoughtful Swedes provide a 'resthut' halfway round with a fire and tables and candles where Cath is able to toast her freezing feet. We leave the zoo when it closes at 3 pm and head for the cafe-bar where we have left our luggage. We have 3 hours to kill before we catch the train back to Vasteras and we spend it drinking beer, glogg with pepparkakor and eating salmon and beef steaks.


Then it's back to the station to catch the train.

Back in Vasteras Jane picks us up at the station. It is late and the family are all in bed, so we have a glass of wine, a chat and retire.

Wednesday 11th February

Today is a day for relaxing and flying home. Jane and Goran are at work, Cath goes off to the shops to get supplies for the evening meal ( I decline the walk in the snow due to a minor 'nocturnal' back injury incurred at the farm) and I do a little blogging and some remedial work on Janes laptop - virus protection and that sort of stuff. We eat a splendid meal of fresh tomatoes, olives, garlic and pasta and then it's off to the airport for the 9 o'clock flight.

Another entertaining take-off and a jolly bouncy landing causing some of the passengers to grunt with fear and we are back in Blighty. Through customs (without declaring the cheese and aquavit), pick up the bags and on to the transfer bus for the car park. It is cold and damp and generally pretty miserable and we can't wait to get in the warm car.


EXCEPT: I have left the f*cking car keys in Vasteras. Oh yes I have - in the 'swingers' keypot where Cath insisted I put them for safekeeping while we are at the farm (a fu*king day late into the pot if they had been swingers!). There are a few glares as we come to the realisation that we both bear an element of blame, but no harsh words - too shocked to row about it. After behaving like headless chickens for half an hour, we eventually go back to the airport and book an extremely expensive room at the neighbouring Radisson SAS Hotel.


Luckily they have free superfast wi-fi internet for guests and I get my phone hooked up and start costing solutions. By 4 am we have decided that I should not fly back and get the keys, but have them sent over and hire a car to get home, picking up my car later. Next morning, we have the BEST breakfast ever and then pick up a Honda Jazz from the Avis car hire company and set off. Arriving back at Smokey Cottage we are desperate for a nice cup of tea. Guess what? Nobody home and no house keys (they are in Sweden too!). Luckily Jamie the son is not far away and a phone call and a short drive afford us the means to enter our own house.


And there ya have it. Elephants never forget!

Current Pain Rating: 1

Wednesday, 11 February 2009

Safe European Home

Hi there hordes of fans and admirers that want to ..............touch my clothes.

I haven't posted for a while as I am currently resident in Sweden and I've been relaxing and having loads of fun.

We have been staying with friends in Vasteras, a large city around 100 km from Stockholm. The day before yesterday we went for a night on a B&B farm here which was tremendous fun. We went kick sledging and sleigh riding and had moose soup for supper (very tasty).

The temperature was -20 C. This is colder than your deep freeze at home which typically runs at -18 C.

I'll post a full report when I get back to England in the next few days.

Current Pain Rating: 1 (3 if it's VERY cold)

Thursday, 5 February 2009

Ouch!

Banged me thumb quite hard today and it hurts like hell.
Still, I'll eat a few more painkillers.
Off to party on down in Vasteras tomorrow - I will report from there.

Current Pain Rating: 7

Tuesday, 3 February 2009

Nothing is Happening..............

.............or so sayeth the title of a late period song by magical Welsh prog rockers 'Man'

I mention that because I have been reminded of the Welsh prog rock scene by a pal talking about 'Black Hole Star' an album by Man offshoot 'The Neutrons'. Same chap was bemoaning the loss of many stars of the old days during his recent extended holiday in NZ. Researching the Neutrons I came across a page detailing lots of 'where are they now' info on acts of the 60's and 70's. One page of said site had links to obituaries and due to a morbid interest in who has popped their clogs recently, I had a quick shuftie.I was quite sad to discover that one of my closest brushes with the big time (ever) has died last year.

Once upon a time, many, many moons ago, I was playing a gig with a very early incarnation of my current band in a seedy seaside dive in Westward-Ho! As we were sound checking a balding and diminuative hippy-ish looking chap came in, listened to the band intently for some minutes and when we had finished came over and introduced himself. "Hi, my name is Brian, I really like the band, you sound cool, would you mind if I sat in on drums on a couple of numbers?" Well, ya get a lot of this in a working band, so I pointed him at the drummer who had a chat, let him have a knockabout and decided he was up to the task. So we let him sit in on a couple of blues standards. While we were playing another local muso friend came in. At the end of the set he asked me if I knew who the mystery drummer was and I said "Yes, that's Brian, he's a nice guy and not a bad drummer - go have a chat to him". My chum said "Yes that is Brian, Brian Davison of 'The Nice'!

The Nice, of course, were one of the first recognised 'prog' bands in the UK and Brian was their highly able drummer. And so the circle closes, prog rock to prog rock, and one of my best 'brush with the greats' stories is told.

RIP Brian


















As for my hand - well that is healing just fine - not allowed to move my thumb yet, but no sign of the arthritic pain that constantly dogged me before the surgery - looking good then.

Current Pain Rating: 1