How scarey is your Scarecrow?

This morning, after a lazy start, I received a call from our neighbour. Peter, a retired ranking officer, asked if I'd like to see his scarecrow. Now, he lives with his wife and their dog, Otto, in a small cottage opposite us. I was puzzled as to where this scarecrow could reside but I'd forgotten, as Marianne pointed out to me, that he told us he had an allotment. Now my interest was aroused. I told Peter that I would be about 10 minutes as I'd just got out of the shower - I told you I was having a lazy day.

Marianne said I'd be gone ages if the stories were true about his "allotment parties". I said I'm sure I won't be long as it was chilly still and his shed bar won't be open. Anyway, Peter was driving! I listened to Peter tell me about his very poorly mother who was living out her last days in a home in Cheltenham and whom he visits around 3 times a week. His car is only six months old and his covered 20,ooo miles! Actually, we are reliably informed it's Otto's car. He gets a drive before he has his walks! (Not that Otto drives, I must add)

A few minutes sees us turn the corner to the allotments and we drive up to Peter's patch..... can you see it Barry? Actually, I couldn't and it wasn't for the lack of looking. We got out of the car and there, before my eyes, was Corporal Jones and Private Pike (of Dad's Army fame) sat astride a rather well made replica of a Bofors anti-aircraft gun! I'm not kidding..... I laughed and laughed. Peter asked if I was impressed. I mean, what can you say? It was a magnificent thing and if it were radar controlled would take out any amount of pigeons and crows.

It's just struck me whilst writing this that it can't be that much of a bird deterrent (unless it goes bang) as I couldn't spot it with my naked eye because of the camouflage, battle dress. Peter says he is getting some camouflage netting to go around the base. Hmmmm.

Now, the other, rather colourful device, is Superduck! It's the last line of defence in the Battle of the Birds. We'll wait and see.

Licensed to Thrill

The end of an era. Last Friday saw my last Concert with the HuMSA Swing Band. quite sad in a way but if you read my previous blog post you'd understand why it had to happen. Strangely enough it was my first solo with them in front of a paying audience - just to add to the pressure it was my first concert solo for 40 years in front of a paying audience



My Darling Wife took some pictures of me outside our house - I had this James Bond air about me that needed capturing.

My solo was played on a Flugel Horn which I enjoy playing. It has a rich, deep mellow tone almost dark and mysterious. Needs the right music for it though. Play it too high and badly it'll sound like a strangled cow!

The concert was a resounding success apparently. It was a Cabaret which was another first for me. Can't say it was totally enjoyable for me as everybody was eating, drinking and chattering. Seemed strange to be providing live background music! And boy! Was it hot...... got quite drippy.

Anyway, I made a recording of the concert but, unfortunately, the recorder had to be at the rear of the hall which meant it picked up all the chatterings as well.

If you're interested my solo can be found here - Can't Get Started.

Changing Direction

Busy week and a few decisions to be made. Should I sell some unused camera equipment and fund a better cornet? The results of which are shown here. Silver plated and hand made in Britain! Not much of that these days....

So, what's been happening to result in this?

Do you recall my return to my trumpet playing? That caused me to join the local music school in Huntingdon. HuMSA for short. That has been brilliant for me to rekindle and redevelop my abilities. The confidence I need to play in public has been a different story though. A year into it and few concerts later I still didn't have the confidence I had when I was a pimply youth!

The downside to the music school was having to spend so much of my weekend away from my darling wife. They wanted me to help more and more which ate into more of our precious weekend together. I needed a better means of utilising my time and allow me to continue to enjoy my playing. One of the ensembles I played with at the school was the "Brass Ensemble" - virtually a brass band but not enough players. Boy, do I enjoy that - it has become the highlight of my Saturdays at the school.

After some research I found that the local(ish) Brass Band in Somersham have rehearsals on Thursday evenings. I spoke to Marianne about this and she said it was better for me to be away in the evening as opposed to losing most of Saturday together. I spoke to Somersham Town Band and they were very happy to have me join them. I told them it couldn't happen this term as I was committed to the concerts booked with the Music School. But after the summer term I shall go to Somersham on a more permanent basis.

I went to a rehearsal with them to see if "I fit in" and it appears I do. They called to ask if I could 'dep' in a concert in Cambridge last Saturday. It was a joint concert with the Cambridge University Brass Band. What an event.

Here are a couple of links to some pieces I managed to record. I was too shy to set the device in a more practical position so, unfortunately, there is an unbalanced drum section but I don't think it detracts too much from what was a pleasant sound.

Pastorale - Goff Richards Somersham Town Band

Musket, Fife and Drum - this is the music to the UK TV series "Soldier, Soldier" played in conjunction with Cambridge University BB.

The wierd thing is I didn't seem to suffer the nerves I do when I play with the school - must be the uniform!

Ooh - that reminds me, I've not told you about my old school teacher have I? Next time....

The Card Trick

Sincere Apologies for the tardy attitude toward my blog.... I'll do my best to change!

So much (really) has happened I don't know where to start so, a good thing to do would be to recount the happenings of this day.

It started when I got up out of bed.... should be a painless experience in itself but, well let's just say - it hurt, big time. Mainly because I was trying to 'slide' out carefully, only I didn't realise I was quite as close to edge of the bed as I was so, gravity took over earlier than anticipated. That caused me to scrape my left, outer thigh on the metal bed frame. Now, to save you the agony of doing this to see just how painful this can be, just take my word for it - it is excrutiatingly painful and debilitating. Don't, repeat don't do it!

If that wasn't enough imagine, if you will, the verbalising that is attendant with a situation such as I've described.

Marianne: "What have you done? What's happened?"

If I could've talked and responded sensibly instead of shouting stuff at the top of my voice I might have received the solace that was due me. Rather, I just became the recipient of yet more questions in Marianne's vain attempt to ascertain my condition. That condition was dire..... hobbling around the bedroom with a dead-leg (Charlie Horse I believe it is over the pond) was the only way I could transport myself.

Marianne: "That's a relief, I thought you had broken your leg!"

Visual and tactile investigation (I liked that bit) revelaed a lump the size of the bowl of a teaspoon which was surplanted atop another longish lump (3 inches x 1 inch). I've yet to check the colour of it but can only imagine Technicolor would like it for a test chart!

Moving on...... Shower? uneventful. Breakfast? uneventful. So, we discuss what we should do today. Marianne said there is a load of 'decluttering' to take place. I agree. Two lives of our ages coming together brings with it all matter of things - so much of it lost in the mists of time and is useless to us now..... to be rid of it will be a good thing.

I returned from band practice after dumping the first of the rubbish. It's at this point I think it would be a good idea for us to enjoy a meal together in a country pub.

On our travels to the place I was intending to go, Marianne suggested a little restaurant, The Windmill, just outside of Somersham. Thoroughly enjoyable meal and we shall return - if they will have us!

Just after I requested the bill I told Marianne I needed the little boys' room and gave her my bank card, just in case the waitress returned whilst I was otherwise engaged. I returned and she gave back my card. The bill (check - US) duly arrived, courtesy of the waitress along with some lovely mints. We were sat at a window table and the sun started to shine so we carried on chatting a bit (about 10 minutes).

Marianne: "Are you going to pay so we get home and finish what we were doing?"
"Ok, did you give me my card back? I can't find it"
"Yes, I did. You had it in your hand".
"I thought you had. Trouble is I can't find it anywhere".

I stood up, went through my wallet. Then I went through all my pockets. Then I searched the floor. Followed by looking down the crease/edge at the back of the chair. Marianne looked in her handbag. For good measure, I stood up and performed the same procedure as before in the hope I'd missed a pocket. No - nothing, zilch, nada! All my other cards, a few receipts and a book of postage stamps, but no bank card.

Marianne: "This is ridiculous, I gave it back to you, I'm sure I did".
"I know you did honey. I'm remember fiddling with it whilst we were nattering. Where is it now though?"
"Stand up again and go through your pockets and things."
"I'm not getting up again. People will think I've got St. Vitus dance."
"Stand up and let me search you."

So, there I was, stood in the restaurant being body searched (I liked that bit) in an attempt to locate the itinerant bank card. No. Still not anywhere to be seen.

You can imagine at this time we were becoming something of a spectacle. The staff asked us if there was a problem.

Me: "Don't worry, I can pay but I've lost my card. Any chance it got taken away when you cleared the table?"

The short answer to that was the staff hadn't seen it either. So, I paid with another card and they took our telephone number in case it turns up. I need to phone the bank now in case it's been stolen (there was a large group of people around our table whilst I was performing my stand up, sit down routine) I need to put a stop on the card.

We return to the car totally perplexed. Where has it gone? Was it really stolen? Never mind. Too late now, must call the bank.

I eventually got to talk to a human being after engaging in a monosyllabic conversation with a couple of computers and was given the opportunity to discuss my plight.

Bank: "What have you lost sir?"
"My bank card and my sanity. It's disappearance only happened 5 mins ago but I/we can't find it anywhere."
"Never mind sir. I've put a stop against the card and issued a request for you to receive a new one."

So, completely flat we continue on home, safe in the knowledge my bank funds are safe. But I kept wondering where on this planet could it have disapperared to.

Marianne: "It's not under your collar is it?"
"Don't laugh at me but I've just felt around my collar and it's not there!"

I really did actually look and I can't believe I even entertained the concept that it might be locked under my collar. That lady knows me too well!

Marianne: "How about up your sleeve?"
"Oh yeah. There it is. Well I never. How did it get there?"
"I saw you fiddling with it but didn't fully see you perform your conjuring trick. Because we were chatting I never gave too much consideration to what you were actually doing."
"Do you know, I vaguely recollect placing it up my sleeve thinking I could easily forget I'm doing this. I was so engrossed in our conversation I completely forgot all about it. Do you know what Marie.....? It's all coming back to me now. Yes, I did put it up my sleeve. Oh dear, what am I like?"

We laughed and we laughed. Then we laughed some more. Did I mention we laughed?

What a day!

Razmabaz goes Green

And he's hoping that there will happen to be more red!




When we moved to this lovely house we inherited a green house. Never had one of these before and, to be honest, had no great interest in gardening. That may have been due, in part, to all previous gardening projects taking "Capability Brown" sized operations. Quite a daunting task to say the least!

Well, that was before a particular lady came on the scene who seems to be able to inspire and encourage without you being fully aware of what's going on. (Just for the record, how many of you are now knitting, spinning, batting [there has to be a proper term for this], dyeing, sewing, crocheting or even weaving when you didn't think you ever would?) This is how I found myself buying seeds and a bag of compost.

That was back in late March (I now know I should've started sooner). Armed with all the paraphenalia of an ardent horticulturalist I proceeded to the inner sanctum of the mighty greenhouse. Actually, it's only 8' x 6' but it seems huge when you don't know what you're doing! I placed out all my seed trays and set about planting the tiniest of seeds (excluding beans - they're so big it seems like cheating!). How much is left to chance and nature is amazing. It never ceases to amaze me how it all happens. (Eternal thanks to Suttons Seeds ;-) )

Things eventually happened, and all at different rates. Some shot up in no time, others decided to bury themselves in the general fug of laziness that seems to be known as "germination". Some never made it all.... investigation is called for here. Although, if the little blighters didn't want to show their faces then that's fine by me! We didn't want any Busy Lizzies anyway. I've since found they are notoriously difficult to cultivate from seed.

Reality check. I was driving to work about 3 weeks later and watched Spring 'take hold' of the countryside. All this germination with no human intervention - I wasn't so clever after all!



So, successes? I can report tomatoes are rampant. Petunias (they really are the tiniest of seeds) are making a bid to take over the world. Coryopsis are very pretty. Tagetes have the smelliest leaves (nice pong) going. Beetroot take longer than Mr. Sutton says - but who cares. (Incidentally, did you know you can take the beetroot stem and leaves, cook to eat as spinach?) Chillis grow like mad once the flower is pollinated. Runner beans seem to be incredibly popular and go on producing fruit like there's no tomorrow. Radishes were ok but neither of us like them that much :-( Strawberries were delicious. Working up on how to take the runners and grow even more. Abutilon is a tricky plant that really doesn't like the direct sunlight.







Were there any failures? Yes - but not total. Marianne gave me some seeds and said "You can grow me some natural dyes." Coryopsis was the only one that worked but I think we'd need an acre of them to turn a fleece yellow. Safflower and indigo only just about made it but the safflowers got savaged by an errant dog! Don't ask. - I just hope it turned orange :-p

So, all in all, I have to report as resounding success....... all I need now is the stuff that is supposed to be red to change from that green colour which kids hate. There is an irony here that I'm not about to divulge!

Picnic in the Park ~ A Musical Interlude

(All photos courtesy of Marianne Cant)

Well, thanks to my beautiful wife I'm reminded I've neglected this blog for far too long - it needs an update.

In a previous, previous life and a long time ago, I played the trumpet. I like to think I was quite good but I was young, youthful and energetic and full of things around me. Really, I took my music very seriously until life happened. I played in the Isle of Wight Symphony Orchestra, Isle of Youth Orhestra, Bembridge Young Community Band and a few other things. Life was full of music!

As I said, then 'life' happened. 37 years later I remarry and I promised to my (then) wife to be, Marianne, I will play my trumpet for her at our wedding. She had never, ever heard me play and I thought it was about time she did!

A long story shortened - 6 weeks before the wedding I reckoned I ought to at least practice something. I did ~ can you believe how rusty a musician gets after a 37 year lay-off?

Anyway, it happened. Marianne was swept off her feet in a romantic trumpet blast - "The way you look tonight" is an amazing piece to woo your wife!

Move on a year and I'm having a terrible job stifling the urge to play again with a group of musicians and let's face it - a trumpet's ok but, solo all the time is a bit much for any audience no matter how much they tell you they love you!

A colleague at work told me about a Music School in Huntingdon HuMSA and that I should look them up. I did and I was amazed at what was on offer. Saturday I get the opportunity to play in a number of groups - from a Brass Ensemble to a Swing (Big) Band. The big draw back is I'm away from home for quite a lot of Saturday mornings, they follow the school term times so there are some holidays. Thank you Honey, I know how difficult it is for you. Wish they did knitting groups there on Saturday mornings ;^) How about learning the harp, it's only strumming vertical skeins?

It seems Brass players are in short supply - so, within a few weeks (3 to be precise) I was asked to play in a concert. Nerve wracking to say the least, but it is enjoyable. Well, it was for me - at least, I don't know what we sound like. I do actually and Marianne recorded on her phone a couple of pieces we played at a summer concert in Godmanchester - Picnic in the Park. The quality is not that good as it was an unbalanced PA system around she was surrounded by partying kids! It gives some idea of what we sound like. It's a shame Marianne couldn't get some of our more melodic pieces but maybe we'll find a better way of recording them.

Extracts from "Have you met Miss Jones?" sung by our new male vocalist Chris Cook and "Woodchoppers Ball".

Me- second from the right, Lewis on the right with Tony, to my left (can you believe he is 82?)

Must tell you this:

At my first concert with him another young lad was sat next to Tony, the lad asked who he was waving to in the audience, he replied, "My father!". I really did laugh

A New Year!

After a restful holiday - well, as much as a houseful of 11 people is restful - I moved quietly into 2009.

It had to be quiet because the 5th of January saw me going into hospital for some elective surgery - repair some damage that lifting a suitcase off of an airport baggage carousel. Nothing too serious, but something that needed doing.

So, with the Winter blues well under way, an operation, 3 weeks off work with restricted movement and no driving, I was not really looking forward to the next few weeks. I wish I could say I rose above it all, but in all honesty I didn't make too good a job of it - even though I had the best nurse life could offer. She was (as ever) FANTASTIC! Thank you, sweetheart.

The other thing that has bugged me lately is my lack of desire for taking/creating any photographs. It's happened in the past but NOW, this time, I needed a pick me up.

The snow came, it went again. No attempt to take a photo... this is not me. Saturday, I had to put some things in the garage and take some stuff out for sorting. Alongside the path Marianne had placed a tub with some bulbs in (I believe Mavis planted them when she stayed with us). I was worried about them because of the cold and the snow. I spotted a couple of pink flowers struggling to find light, poking their daring little heads bravely out through the snow, out into the sunshine. I have to admit I rushed in for the camera..... not totally inspired, but I was moved to take these photos.

Coconut Ice!