A surprisingly good weekend. I met a marvellous garden, and its marvellous owner, and have picked up my first "most weeks I think, really" gardening gig. Although I'll probably ease her back to fortnightly, it's easier on the green recycling. Then an experimental music gig where I was unfairly cruel about an unexpected folk singer, although hopefully he didn't hear it (it was a small crowd, though :( ... urgh, though, he sang one of those awful folk songs about beating your girlfriend to death, grrrr). I was there for Lum Col Con Pix, but Thomas Truax was an unexpected highlight; I'd only previously seen him at Truck, which doesn't do him any favours. His Nick Cavish blacks and barely-constrained mentalism was a perfect match for the Holywell Music Room and its vast, intimidating organ. It was also quiet enough that the subtleties of the David Lynch soundtrack covers came true. Strange stuff.
Happy International Womens Day, incidentally! For anyone who missed BBC4's Feminist documentary this evening (for shame!) I reproduce below a small yet significant shrub in the forst of of witty, ferociously intelligent older women delivering well-chosen bon mots:
There was a young lady from wapping Whose life was all cleaning and shopping Her husband, joking Said try reading Kate Chopin She did and left home without stopping
You also missed some very significant bits of Germaine Greer...and some truly awful, horrible, noxious contemporary film/radio interviews. Truly, the past is a different country, and I'm really glad I don't live there.