Most people I know have particular music that really does it for them.  Usually the attachment is related to something important that happened  and the music they were listening too at the time is linked to the memory and adds to the story.  For instance, and I have written about this before, Neil Young’s Harvest Moon will be forever linked in my memory with the suicide of my friend David because that is what I was listening to when I heard the news.  Not only does it bring back David to me but it brings back the people and places we both knew.

I can remember where I was the first time I listened to Led Zeppelin (in the lunch break at college) and the first time I heard Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon (at my cousins house).  But the album that was to stand out for me and still means a great deal to me now I first heard when I was seventeen and living a ragamuffin life in a flat in Wellington.  Bruce Springsteen’s Darkness on the Edge of Town made the hair stand up on the back of my neck.  I had no idea what he was singing about, had to sit down with the cover and read the lyrics, but the moan, the slide, the  sheer dirty dark urgency and also poignancy of the songs rocked my young heart.

Still rocks my still tender, middle aged heart as well..

What brings on this rootling around in my musical past you might ask?

Just that this is going to be out in time for Christmas, and although it’s well expensive – I want… 😉

Do you know how much I would give to time travel back and be at this concert?

The BeeGees, Shakespeare and Cream..

First off – Happy Lammas!  The festival of first fruits – all those ffffffffffs..

The 2nd of February marks Lammas/Lughnasadh which is the first of the harvest celebrations  but like another important day on the wheel of the year (Sowein/Halloween) it also happens to be the birthday of someone close to me.  Sometimes I get swept up in one and need to mark the other another day.

Feel me now as bountiful Mother. I am fertility and creativity, I am the abundance of life. I create and nurture all being. My golden cloak is the ripening grain. Pause a moment whenever you eat. Feel my Presence…

Image by Wendy Andrew


Instead of seeing the rug being pulled out from under us, we can learn to dance on a shifting carpet. Thomas Crum


Bloody Hell it’s good being home again.  I don’t realise how much I love my own space until I go away – even for one night.

The journey down to Wellington on the train was trouble-free – mainly thanks to my trusty Sony mp3 player, it saves me oodles of grief.  Usually the trip is pretty quiet but this time I was trapped in the same carriage with a woman who, if I’m going to be kind about it, liked the sound of her own voice and several shriekey teenage girls in school uniform.  Not feeling obliged to listen to others noise I simply plugged myself in and grooved away to the dulcet tones of the BeeGees in full disco flow.  I then sat comfortably by myself the entire journey – occasionally wondering how the Brothers Gibb could have thought that singing falsetto would ever be considered manly – even if you do have lots of body hair, medallions and tight, tight trousers.  With my mp3 player on random I got to listen to 60’s band Cream and am now a fan.

My Mum enjoyed her trip out for dinner at the Parrot and Jigger for her birthday.  My brother, sister-in-law and one of my nephews came along as well and it was good to be able to have a family celebration without the usual mass of dishes to clean up after.  My brother had to finish packing to leave at 5.30am to guard the Prime Minister at Waitangi so we had an early  night.

It looks like the weather has finally decided it will be summer for awhile.  We are going to see Shakespeare’s Merry Wives of Windsor at Gladstone Vineyard on Friday evening so will be taking a sun hat.