Rockin' the manor
Yesterday, we (family we, not muso we) drove to the seaside, which isn't easy when you live in the middle of the country. We did manage a visit to Corfe Castle (where Freya convinced a small troop of girl guides to follow her around) and eat fish and chips by the sea. The was much laughter and merriment, even after the moment when it became apparent all Freya's clothes were now soaking wet with seawater or covered in sand.
I very nearly got a chance to play my upright electric bass this week, but a pin snapped and it's in bass-hospital. Oddly, while writing to the manufacturer (the talented Thomas Fichter, who used to play in the Ensemble Modern) Marc-Anthony Turnage appeared on telly. I had bought the bass from Herr Fichter during rehearsals for one of Turnage's pieces. I had enjoyed a meal with the bass player, who told stories of his experiences with Frank Zappa, and then I watched the Turnage piece in the evening with the added delight of hearing John Schofield on guitar and Peter Erskine on drums. Back at my B&B I plugged in my new bass and played for hours.