What does a woman who loves music festivals do when she does not get a ticket for Glastonbury. This one plans a weekend of ‘jobs’ that are vastly improved by the background sound of the BBC livestreaming the music aspect of the festival.
And just like that the futility (utility) room was stripped out tidied and put back together. Our store of Covid restriction ‘essential’ baking and cooking ingredients have gone in the bin.
Farewell inert dried yeast and sumac + many others well past their best.
Tidy Cook Books
Hello tidied camper van too.
And as a reward, a little live night music. Shanty singing in a Cornish Village Hall.
A late blog today. No specific reason. I was pondering on talking about Synesthesia today as it affects me. But goodness that is a big topic, one for another day as it turns out. We’ve had a fab weekend of listening to and watching the Glastonbury festival from the comfort of our house and garden.
The BBC studio at Pilton Farm, where the Glastonbury Festival is held, have exactly the same cow models but they are painted a very traditional black and white. After we watched the fabulous Coldplay set we went out for the evening dog walk and our vivid cows were looking magnificent against the dusk sky.
Our fluorescent cows have only experienced one music festival in the Royal William Yard. I was writing for a local arts magazine so we had some press passes and had the most wonderful time buzzing about. Such a shame it only happened once. A casualty of the hiatus of the Covid years. I suspect having only happened once there just hasn’t been the impetus to get it going again. I do rather like the freedoms that a press pass allows. Imagine having one for Glastonbury. That would be a giddy few days of blogging, apart from the cows of course , which are stultifyingly normal.
3 years since the last Glastonbury Festival and,coincidentally, 3 years since we have seen two sets of friends, who we met up with this weekend. The TV coverage of Glasto has been the soundtrack of our weekend and on Sunday Glastonbury defined where we could meet our friends without either set of people getting caught up in festival traffic.
West Bay became our destination of choice and the sun came out with a side serving of cold blustery wind.
The day started with marmalade for breakfast. Traditional enough you might think but for us the day started with marmalade ice cream. A very fine toilet on our route can be found at an Ice Cream Farm. Despite the earliness of our arrival it seemed rude not to partake in their titular product.
These were way to fancy for our tastes and we decided to buy something a little simpler, and save it for the return journey.
And so the three year reunion occured. We hugged and laughed and walked a lot and drank coffee.
West Bay did not disappoint it even gave me two of my favourite things. A glitterball and an old weathered door.
Three years has been a long time, the gentle trickle to normality is gathering pace . I’ve loved seeing great crowds of people enjoying themselves at Glastonbury and at a different level it is just so good to give friends a good old hug and a squeeze when we meet. Ice cream for breakfast; not an everyday occurrence for sure but definately an opportunity to be taken occasionally. Random opportunities are assets waiting to be realised. It may have taken a world pandemic for me to fully realise their value.
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