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The Long Weekend

I fear that my new abode will very quickly be filled with a mish-mash of antiques and general tat. Mostly the latter.

I’m basing this on a short wander around a vintage store at the weekend. Lots of big old pieces of furniture, as well as a lot of stuff I wouldn’t give house room but quite a few pieces that I would, one of which I’m still tempted to go back and get (a lamp base made from wooden letterpress blocks).

It may also be filled with books as not only did I wander around a book fair (where I succumbed and bought a compendium of Lewis Carroll works) I also made my first ever, and definitely not my last, visit to Voltaire & Rousseau. It’s a magical place, floor to ceiling books, shoogly piles of paperbacks waiting to topple over and a cat snoozing away in the corner.

Voltaire & Rousseau

I also wandered past a music store, mostly guitars, and started to ponder buying myself a piano, or at the very least a good quality keyboard. Nothing I can do with that for now until I know where I’m going to be and how much space I’ll have but it’s another thing to add to the ‘maybe’ list.

And yes, I admit, I saw this today and did stop to ponder… (not sure I’ll ever have room for a baby grand mind you).

I can see me spending more and more time hunting through vintage stores in the future. I’m beginning to find my ‘style’ is more eclectic than minimal, although I do fear I’m being influenced a little too much by blogs like Apartment Therapy (aka, furniture porn). What on EARTH have I become!

Sunday was spent largely doing nothing, much like today, as there is little that needs done around here. Having the house on the market means it is clean and tidy at all times. In fact I deliberately left all my dishes lying on Sunday just to give me something to do this morning (I’m a little OCD about that kind of thing). And now, well right now I’m going to put some music on and sit and read a book.

The rock and roll lifestyle continues.




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The short hot summer

What a lovely weekend that was, all sunshine and BBQs and ice cream and other good things which are good. Nay, wonderful.

I’d love to say there was anything else going on, and I really should be taking my chances to spend some time on this ‘ere blog given that, at any moment, some kind soul will buy our house and so will commence 2-3 weeks of madness as we pack up and head off.

On that front we have one potential buyer, but he’s waiting on confirmation from his workplace of a new contract. They like the house and I think they are first time buyers so that bodes well. I think. Maybe.

Basically I’m just trying to avoid speculating until something actually happens.

Largely to stop myself looking for flats to rent, spotting a GORGEOUS one in Kelvinbridge, backed on to the river, huge big living room, wooden floors, balcony… only to see that it’s been snapped up. Not a surprise, but it’s annoying.

Instead I’ve been keeping myself busy, and find myself sitting late into the night surfing the internet looking at all sorts of delicious pictures. I’ve even been taking notes!

“Ohhh that lamp would go well with that chair, and I could have a couple of bookcases behind it and have a wee reading area…”

“Hmmmm not sure about the cushions, but I like the sofa.”

“I MUST HAVE THAT ART!”

It’s official, interior design is the (my?) new porn.




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Band of Skulls

A couple of weeks ago I went to see a band called “Band of Skulls”. Similarly as to when I went to see a band called “Eagles of Death Metal”, the very name of the band prompts raised eyebrows and questions of what type of “noise” I’m inflicting upon myself.

Interestingly, both bands are similarly positioned in the rock catalogue. Neither are “heavy” nor particularly satanic, instead they sit in the musical catalogue alongside the likes of The White Stripes and Kings of Leon.

The Band of Skulls gig was in a venue I’d never been to before, the Classic Grand in Glasgow, which is up four flights of stairs in what I presume was an old cinema. It’s a tight venue and even standing at the back of the hall, the band were no more than about 60 metres away (that’s about 200 feet in old money).

I bought their album after spotting a brief recommendation in, I think, Esquire. I initially forgot about it but soon started coming back to it time and again. It’s an oddly paced album, and I often found myself checking to see what was playing, only to find it was one of theirs. This is partly down to sharing lead vocals between the male guitarist and female bass player, and also because the songs themselves happily float from rock, to pop-laden ballad, to a drug-hazed blues drawl. Not since Gotye have I been so happily flummoxed by the change of pace the album has.

And the live experience isn’t half bad either. The sound mix was spot on, and the Grohl-esque drumming added an appropriate intensity that some of the album tracks lack.

One advantage of going to a ‘small’ gig for a relatively unknown band is that, in a few years time, I’ll be able to see them again and see how much they’ve learned. I’m not entirely sure Band of Skulls will offer me that opportunity though as they’ve already got one helluva live show, and delivered a damn good night.

I’m not one for making predictions about bands, but if this lot don’t end up on the main stage at Glastonbury some day then there is something wrong somewhere.




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