I woke up early Friday with a heid fu o chocolate frogs, oh yes indeedy! I’d stopped watching the incoming results after another “No” was registered from the islands and knew the writing was on the wall. It was a forlorn hope that there might have been an unexpected surge if a wee fairy waved a magic wand somewhere but I knew deep down it was over. I admit there was an initial sense of deflation but I’d come to terms with the raised probability of defeat in the few days running up to the vote as the promises of Devo max were rolled out and for many it was the path of more certainties as there were too many questions unanswered. There was a half bottle of wine left over from the wee hours and I poured myself a glass and settled down in front of the TV as the builders set about the final work on the extension and the pathlayers set out the soft slope from the patio. I set off on my own soft slope to a woolly afternoon and a day that there was no choice but to write off.The referendum started to sink into the past but it was obvious that things in the UK would never be the same and something new had come about with the Scots showing democracy in action and engaging in politics like never before. I was proud of what we had instigated and with very few signs of trouble being reported it appeared that we had accepted the result with grace and were now looking to the future as a nation.
I decided to stay away from Facebook and social media and let the PC sit in darkness in the control room. A few glum and consolatory calls to friends that were mostly short as there wasn’t much else to say and then a crash as the wine collided with eventual exhaustion. A visit later from 2 of my neighbours brightened the night and we polished off some more vino collapso and discussed events. Saturday was a very late starter and I didn’t even catch the footy results.Long rambling talks with my lady on skype took me into the early hours of Sunday and a lonely bottle of grappa was all that was left in the cupboard. I know I should have declined but I wasn’t in the mood for sobriety. The weekend was canceled for me. Or so I thought!
Sunday I woke around 3 and had the jolting sick memory shock of realisation as I’d forgotten that my good friend John Watts was coming over to visit and stay the night as he’d been playing in Glasgow the last 2 days. I’d just spent those 2 days in my dressing gown like an old tart, the studio was a mess as I hadn’t stowed stuff away yet from the last builders shift and everything had been moved around by the electricians putting in the smoke alarms.Wrong footed and decidedly shaky I hit the shower, grabbed a coffee and headed down to the railway station to pick up Mr Watts who was pulling in at 4. I cursed myself for the grappa decision and was thankful I’d managed a big sleep that allowed some respite from the accumulated hangover. I was at least fit to drive and returned with John from Longniddry to take up our positions on the deck chairs on the sunlit patio. John would be my first ever patio guest and we indulged in wonderful conversation till the sun moved along catching up on the year that had passed us by and swapping tales of dramas both minor and major.
Obviously the referendum was discussed and John had been in the middle of it all in Glasgow. He’d been taken aback at the energies and the event and had even been in George Square during minor scuffles that had broken out which had threatened to send dark shadows over the otherwise peaceful reception to the results.He’d tweeted a couple of shots from his phone but they had been rejected by the service. It was obvious that reporting on the incident was being monitored and even on the evening news on TV the footage was minimal and the lid kept firmly on. I don’t think anyone wanted this blown out of proportion and quite honestly it would have been hugely embarrassing for Scotland after the entire campaign on both sides had been conducted with relative friendliness apart from some vocal minorities. I was glad that was the only negative thing I heard about over the entire weekend.
We spent the rest of the early evening watching” Grand Hotel Budapest”, which was aptly surreal, and then taxi to Haddington for a curry at the Eastern Eye, judicial consumption of wine and back to the house to catch Match of the Day. Great company on a near perfect peaceful Sunday which prepared me for the start to the week and the final run up to the tour.
I drove John to the station this morning and then started to get back into the flow of and dealing with the endless list of things to do.
It’s coming at us fast now and I have the added commitment of flying to Amsterdam on Friday morning for 2 days of radio promotion with John Beck, Robin Boult and I playing acoustic sets at 3 different radio stations before coming back on Sunday to get on the bus for Durham on Monday night.. It’s a bit scary!
All of a sudden there’s not enough time in the days and I’m feeling a bit guilty for losing the last weekend. I could have done with being in my own bedroom again but there’s a carpet on it’s way and still a few bits and pieces to be done before I can settle back into the space.. The merchandise arrives middle of the week and once again the floors and surfaces will be overflowing with boxes.Trying not to feel overwhelmed and stay on top of everything that will come flying at me in the next few days.I’ll get through it and probably grateful to get back on the bus and get back to old routines. That was the last weekend I’ll be losing this year!