anyresemblance

The mother of all festivals

My sister called me last night. She lives in Spain but she is currently at our father's house, just outside Glastonbury. It's raining, she tells me, so she has willingly given up her tickets to the Glastonbury festival to our niece and her partner. Glastonbury in the rain, uh huh, I don't think so. Anne and I went many years ago. I remember wearing shorts and wellington boots, an unattractive look even then. Sinead O'Connor was playing, and James and the Pogues and all those other bands you stand around in wet fields listening to. Even then we were such home bodies that we went home every evening to warm baths in my parent's cottage. We got free passes since my mother's good friend was the mother of the man who runs the festival. The old ladies went to Glastonbury the year Tom Jones was the headline closing act. My mum got to stand on the side of the stage and watch him strut his stuff. I'm assured she didn't throw her knickers at him.

Grey Sunday

The weather has changed. This is the first day in weeks when the sky has been grey and it's cool. No bloody rain, of course. I've updated my links into one list. The australian vs rest of the world distinction was getting specious since so many of the australians are living elsewhere and writing with more of an international slant than many others I read. I read somewhere there are over a million adult australians living and working in other parts of the world. That's about 5% of the population which is substantial diaspora. I've been obsessively listening to Serge Gainsbourg and Lee Hazlewood this weekend. The latter came from a recommendation from kitschenette. My older daughter and two of her class mates are presenting a half hour radio show on the local french language station and she's trying to chose which Serge Gainsbourg track she wants to play. At the moment, Qui Est In Qui Est Out is the favourite which I keep thinking sounds amazingly like the Go-Betweens. I took the girls to see the Go-Betweens last year at Tilley's. To be honest, though the show was great, they got tired and grumpy and we left early. They love listening to the CDs though. Among the excellent performances in 21 Grams was Serge's daughter, Charlotte Gainsbourg. She astonished me by how old she looked - the last I remembered she was debuting as a teenager. This quiz is fun (via Liz)