I’ll Be Your Sister

Binge and bastard purge.

I’m dead on my feet tonight. This week so far has been played without a pause: 40 hours of pipes so far, more at the weekend; two nights in the hills, a late-evening meeting with a customer, a night in the studio (where if we can’t get a recording slot for the new tunes soon we are going to melt into a bubble of feedback and slaver) and then dinner at my folks tonight where Holly went loopy.
I used to be able to have 18 hours of activity in every 24, day after day and leap out from under the duvet at dawn in Bruce Lee style, ready for more. Well, apart from the time where we all fell asleep in a cooling tower on a factory roof after a very late gig.
The bass player and crew guy worked with me at the time and we were all totally burst from playing ’til after 0200 in an airless sweat hole in Glasgow. By the time we got back to base and unloaded the van it was time to put the tools back in and get going again. The day was doomed from the start, but Davy and I woke up at lunch time and staggered to the canteen while poor Rab got discovered sleeping and got a new hole punched in his arse by Jimmy. We sniggered like schoolboys ‘cos we didn’t get into trouble too.
But aye, youthful energy is wasted on us when we don’t have the perspective which age presents to us to appreciate it, and indeed exploit it properly.

I caught myself doing something very odd tonight. I’ve got some mountain bits and pieces to do in July for a couple of folk, and I was actually planning a route around what side of the ridge the sun would be shining on so I could get the right photies. The heating engineer in me got up, left the room, and flew back through the door a few seconds later with a kitchen stool to break across my teeth.
Aye, that’s better.

30 thoughts on “I’ll Be Your Sister”

  1. Went well today though, so I am pleased. A planned half day of admin turned into a full day of successful spanner work.
    If I can maintain the pace for the next couple of weeks I shall be free, free I tell you!

  2. Is that the Canadian band with Rob Reiner on drums?….

    Ha I’m kidding, I’m too young to know that I googled it! :o)

  3. You did?!
    In ’83 I was five, had pigtails in my hair and life was carefree and happy, mostly. Now, it’s the opposite.

  4. :o)
    In 2003 I’d just crawled out of a seven year hell-hole, depressed, nearly two stone heavier and my hair was straggly. So I suppose I should be thankful I’m not there now…

  5. You’re awfy wee, an extra two stone would have you resembling a space hopper.

    I’ll tell you though, you make up for any gaps in your past, when most folk are happy sitting on chairs you’re always out trying stuff.

  6. Aye I suppose you’re right.

    Well, I only say two stone because I’ve lost one of them in the past 5 months! yes!

    I used to have a space hopper! I remember wanting one for Christmas, never got one, our local corner shop sold them (!?) so on Christmas day when my Pappy came for his dinner he gave us money and my mum took me to the shop to buy one. Aah the memories…

  7. No, It was when I went to work on the Waltzers…….

    Nah I’m just kidding, it was when our house was being renovated by the council, they put all of us in this makeshift caravan village. I suppose I am what is known as trailer trash. :o)
    But it’s ok cos i know live back in ‘The Scheme’.

  8. You probably already know this and how weird but… there’s a programme about that Anvil group on BBC4 just now! How strange eh?

    BTW I’ve just read my comments back there.. I won’t post again when I’m feeling kinda melancholic.

  9. Melacholy is one of my favourite moods you know.
    It’s the true central point from which to observe your life. All the good, the bad, the missed chances, the past, present and future, the mistakes, the victories, the memories and your hopes, all at equal distance.
    I need that to keep me right, or at least to keep me trying.

  10. That’s a good way to see it I think. It’s hanging over me a lot just now that’s all. Like a wee buzzy fly that you can’t swat with the rolled up newspaper. Annoying.

  11. Pies – I’ve just purchased four of the pork variety in anticipation of bimble down Loch Lochy way on the morrow.

    I’m sure that if Engerland has sustained themselves on pork pies, malt loaf, wine gums and a banana, they would not have exited the World Cup quite so tamely.

    Shame the weather forecast is rubbish

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