This evening, my second in command made Yorkshire puddings. Vegan Yorkshire puddings. An important discovery allowed such an event; the water from a can of chickpeas makes a pretty decent egg substitute. Apparently, it works in cake too.
And a video from Saturday night’s gig.
Memories from last night have been emerging through the day. Apparently, I told Mr McCarthy that my second in command had walked 17 miles on crutches to see him. Obviously, that wasn’t quite true. And he understood that, even found it amusing.
Such claims were largely due to the 6.8â„… Jakehead. I’d only had two or three, then thought it wise to switch to Erdinger. Anyway, I enjoyed nice conversation with Billy. And I’m sure my second in command enjoyed her hugs with Mr McCarthy.
Some other, pretty random, pictures from yesterday.
Well, I did say they were random. There’s a story behind most of them, but I’m way too lazy to go into that level of detail.
Anyway, It was a great night. There are a couple of full band gigs on sale soon; we quite fancy March in Manchester. And, hopefully, somewhere nearer home.
Pretty damn amazing; Mr William McCarthy, a real gentleman and an incredible performer. More will follow in a few hours, but a picture for now.
That little tent at T in the Park a few years ago, when we stumbled across We are Augustines, as they were at the time, was something pretty special. We were stupidly impressed at the time and have loved the Augustines ever since. My second in command may have a thing about Billy; nothing to do with the multiple hugs with him this evening I’m sure. Looking forward to the third album and the accompanying tour.
This rainy afternoon, we shall visit public houses in Ouseburn. Followed by a short walk to Byker, where Billy McCarthy will be playing at the Cluny.
Today, my evening was spent in Whitley Bay. It’s a place associated with both pleasant and less so experiences. I used to take my kids there when they were little. Usually, we’d have chips at the beach. They were cooked in palm oil; ethically questionable nowadays, but better than melted down cows or pigs, as was the norm at the time. And, when a marriage that shouldn’t have been went tits up a few years ago, I found a B&B there to escape the madness.
This evening was spent in the Fat Ox, where a band played. Unfortunately, the band play mostly heavy rock. And I’m not too keen on such things. But, they were actually OK. I wouldn’t commit to more than OK though.
I left earlier than planned, since my second in command was unwell. So my virtual post-it note, with late Metro times, wasn’t of much use.
I should inform the casual reader that my companion this evening usually arrives (when in Newcastle or Gateshead) with a post-it filled with Metro times.
Arriving in Gateshead, with an urgent need to empty my bladder, I ran walked casually to the Tilley Stone. After using the facilities, I realised I’d missed the last bus. And, so, there was no alternative other than an ixat.
Home now.
The Station Hotel, where one could purchase a can of Carling for a quid a couple of years ago, was auctioned off a while back. We were disappointed that it was bought for a ridiculously cheap price, but the structural problems were a good enough reason to try to buy the place.
After a lengthy delay, including dialogue with Railtrack, who own the back wall (part of a railway bridge), building work has finally moved forward.
Despite the structural issues, I still regret we hadn’t tried to buy the place.
Tonight was my last evening of child sitting relating to my eldest child’s degree course. This is year four, although it’s not a full year. The time has passed so fast, though it had seemed to be a long way away at the beginning. It’s good to have been able to help; well, my mother had done the same for me when, when my kids were young, I embarked on my first degree. While it’s not yet over for my daughter, it feels strange now that my weekly child sitting is now over.