This was probably the best Womad yet as we were bless with superb weather, a greatly improved site, good food music and company. All together there were twenty of us in five huge tents with a couple of gazebos for cover outside. We would eat breakfast together and study the line-up for the day. The kids would often spend time in the Children’s Area making crafts, listening to stories or learning new skills such as juggling or kite flying. The rest of the group would split up according to what artists they wanted to see and we would meet up during the day at various events often getting together later on when the wine and nibbles came out.
WOMAD REVIEW - BY JANE CORNWELL
There were a many and varied list of artists at this years Womad and we managed to see a lot more this year as the weather was kinder than last year’s ‘Womud’.
Sue and the girls particularly enjoyed their Chic disco fix, and I found it hard to choose between the gentle folk meanderings of Fribo and the pumping Ska rhythms of Babylon Circus. We also really enjoyed the sweet voices of Devon Sproule and of Simone White in our favourite new Little Sicily tent.
Of the rest we enjoyed Squeeze and knew almost all of the songs, Sharon Shannon Big Band feat Shane MacGowan, Damien Dempsey & Mundy who played a foot-stomping ceilidh (kay-lee), Asere and their sultry Cuban rhythms and Cara Dillon and her sweet Irish folk.
We had an unexpected treat watching a couple of friends in a dance competition where they need to dance with a potato pressed between their foreheads as Sarah Savoy & the Francadians played in the Taste the World tent.
We also saw Ernest Ranglin, Dengue Fever, Eddy Grant & the Frontline Orchestra, Orchestra Baobab, Martha Wainwright, Finley Quaye, Hossam Ramzy & his Epyptian Orchestra and Justin Adams & Julideh Camara.
I have already bought several CDs and I have a few more in my wish list for later.
We have all set our minds on returning for next year’s event.
Friday, August 01, 2008
More of wot I have read…
Making Money by Terry Pratchett
This is the latest in the Discworld series and as with the many others that have gone before I enjoyed it. It is more of the same, which to my mind is no bad thing.
‘The Ankh-Morpork Post Office is running like . . . well, not at all like a government office. The mail is delivered promptly; meetings start and end on time; five out of six letters relegated to the Blind Letter Office ultimately wend their way to the correct addresses. Postmaster General Moist von Lipwig, former arch-swindler and confidence man, has exceeded all expectations—including his own. So it's somewhat disconcerting when Lord Vetinari summons Moist to the palace and asks, "Tell me, Mr. Lipwig, would you like to make some real money?"
Vetinari isn't talking about wages, of course. He's referring, rather, to the Royal Mint of Ankh-Morpork, a venerable institution that haas run for centuries on the hereditary employment of the Men of the Sheds and their loyal outworkers, who do make money in their spare time. Unfortunately, it costs more than a penny to make a penny, so the whole process seems somewhat counterintuitive.
Next door, at the Royal Bank, the Glooper, an "analogy machine," has scientifically established that one never has quite as much money at the end of the week as one thinks one should, and the bank's chairman, one elderly Topsy (née Turvy) Lavish, keeps two loaded crossbows at her desk. Oh, and the chief clerk is probably a vampire.
But before Moist has time to fully consider Vetinari's question, fate answers it for him. Now he's not only making money, but enemies too; he's got to spring a prisoner from jail, break into his own bank vault, stop the new manager from licking his face, and, above all, find out where all the gold has gone—otherwise, his life in banking, while very exciting, is going to be really, really short…’
This is the latest in the Discworld series and as with the many others that have gone before I enjoyed it. It is more of the same, which to my mind is no bad thing.
‘The Ankh-Morpork Post Office is running like . . . well, not at all like a government office. The mail is delivered promptly; meetings start and end on time; five out of six letters relegated to the Blind Letter Office ultimately wend their way to the correct addresses. Postmaster General Moist von Lipwig, former arch-swindler and confidence man, has exceeded all expectations—including his own. So it's somewhat disconcerting when Lord Vetinari summons Moist to the palace and asks, "Tell me, Mr. Lipwig, would you like to make some real money?"
Vetinari isn't talking about wages, of course. He's referring, rather, to the Royal Mint of Ankh-Morpork, a venerable institution that haas run for centuries on the hereditary employment of the Men of the Sheds and their loyal outworkers, who do make money in their spare time. Unfortunately, it costs more than a penny to make a penny, so the whole process seems somewhat counterintuitive.
Next door, at the Royal Bank, the Glooper, an "analogy machine," has scientifically established that one never has quite as much money at the end of the week as one thinks one should, and the bank's chairman, one elderly Topsy (née Turvy) Lavish, keeps two loaded crossbows at her desk. Oh, and the chief clerk is probably a vampire.
But before Moist has time to fully consider Vetinari's question, fate answers it for him. Now he's not only making money, but enemies too; he's got to spring a prisoner from jail, break into his own bank vault, stop the new manager from licking his face, and, above all, find out where all the gold has gone—otherwise, his life in banking, while very exciting, is going to be really, really short…’
Good night and God bless…
My Aunty J died recently after a long and courageous battle against the dreaded cancer. The end was peaceful and in her own home with family around her and was the best that could be hoped for. Uncle J and Sue were there at the end. J & T had lots of support from family and friends and from the District Nurses and the wonderful Iain Rennie Hospice at Home nurses.
J had been diagnosed seven years ago with terminal breast cancer and given 18 months; she took a lot more, which was down to her determination and positive attitude along with the supurb care she received from the NHS. Sue and I had spent a lot of time with them enjoying long drunken dinners, gardens and National Trust houses and some fantastic holidays abroad and in the UK.
The service in the local church was incredibly moving, well attended as it was by over eighty friends and family. There was music by classically trained neighbours, a song specifically requested by J was performed by the Morris group that T belonged and a eulogy by a long time friend that was all beautiful. The coffin was taken to the grave through and arch of Morris men and everybody was encouraged to witness the internment. Afterwards we congregated at the village hall and talked to each other while we partook of a great spread washed down by suitable beverages. It was an emotional and beautiful day.
Good night sweet lady, we will miss you very much.
J had been diagnosed seven years ago with terminal breast cancer and given 18 months; she took a lot more, which was down to her determination and positive attitude along with the supurb care she received from the NHS. Sue and I had spent a lot of time with them enjoying long drunken dinners, gardens and National Trust houses and some fantastic holidays abroad and in the UK.
The service in the local church was incredibly moving, well attended as it was by over eighty friends and family. There was music by classically trained neighbours, a song specifically requested by J was performed by the Morris group that T belonged and a eulogy by a long time friend that was all beautiful. The coffin was taken to the grave through and arch of Morris men and everybody was encouraged to witness the internment. Afterwards we congregated at the village hall and talked to each other while we partook of a great spread washed down by suitable beverages. It was an emotional and beautiful day.
Good night sweet lady, we will miss you very much.
An educated man…
We were in Hull again recently, this time to witness Jamie gain his degree. Jamie, Sue, her mom and I drove up and met Jamie’s dad there where we had an enjoyable evening out at a local restaurant. The next day we gathered in the town square and, after Sue obtained some extra tickets, we all filed into the Guild Hall to watch the pomp and pageantry (it was like a scene out of Harry Potter) of the great day.
After the presentations the assembled ranks of newly qualified assembled on the steps of the monument for and address by the town-crier, photos and the ritual throwing of the mortar-boards in the air.
After the presentations the assembled ranks of newly qualified assembled on the steps of the monument for and address by the town-crier, photos and the ritual throwing of the mortar-boards in the air.
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