In the words of UB40.

It's funny how there are some songs that you don't think of for -quite literally - years, and then something happens that means you CAN'T GET IT OUT OF YOUR HEAD.



Our kitchen is a fairly standard Victorian single-storey affair stuck on the back of our house, with only a tiny loft space above it. When we moved in, we had the roof re-felted, and the roofers told me at the time that they had found traces of what they thought were rat droppings in the roof space. Anyway, they blocked up the obvious holes, put new felt down and re-laid the tiles.

I hadn't really thought about it too much until I started hearing the scratching. Definite scrabbling. There was no way I could dismiss it as being a bird on the roof, or noises from our next-door neighbours. It was definitely coming from above my head, and the whole "rat thing" came back to me in a flash. So off I went to our friend Google and looked for local pest control phone numbers.

The chap I rang sounded gleeful when I told him my address. "Oh yes, we like it there, come up there a lot"

Great.

He and his colleague turned up within the hour and cheerfully poked about in my drains before poking their heads into the tiny loft hatch.

"No smell of death here, John"

That sounded promising.

"But looks like it's mice"

My heart sank.

"Yeah, looks like a family of field mice have moved in for the winter. My advice - don't do anything, and they'll move back out to the fields in the spring. You may or may not get another family moving in, depends".

Helpful. You see, if there's one thing that freaks me out, it's rodents. Mice, rats, hamsters, gerbils - my dislike even goes as far as guinea pigs. Can't stand them. Except now I appear to be sharing my house with a family of the toothy little critters.

To top it off, the wall of my study (where I spend most of my day) joins onto the kitchen loft space, causing massive paranoia about what might happen should they somehow venture up through my floorboards. I find myself making as much noise as possible - having music on, rolling around on my office chair, typing and talking as loudly as I can.

I'm a nervous wreck.

However, thankfully the lads of UB40 have also helped me come up with a cure:




That's better.

Carfest

I'm strictly a "Today" programme kind of gal first thing in the morning. It's a habit that I've inherited from my parents - Radio 4 in the kitchen. I find there's nothing more likely to wake me up properly (other than a decent cup of coffee) than huffing along with John Humphries et al to the latest guff some politician is making up.

I therefore hadn't heard of Carfest, the festival thought up by Chris Evans in aid of Children In Need, until a friend mentioned it to me. The idea, apparently, was simple - a festival for families, combining his favourite things; cars, food and music. It appealed immediately - my husband is a car fan, I like food, and who doesn't like music? As it also meant giving the newly purchased tent another outing, it seemed like a good idea all round.

So, one April morning saw my friend and myself simultaneously on the phone to each other and waiting for the ticket website to go online, and we managed to garner a much-sought after weekend camping pass for the two families.

Last Friday, therefore, we ventured into deepest Hampshire, queued with several thousand others, and jostled for space to pitch our tents. It turned out to be a weekend of many firsts, not only the first festival I had been to since Glastonbury in (eek) 1995(!), but also the first festival for my children, and I think it was probably the perfect introduction for them - not too large for it to all be a bit overwhelming, but also plenty of entertainment (best bit? "The dancing diggers", apparently). Other firsts included my first experience of a "shewee" - something which impressed my daughters so much I don't think they will ever want to go to the loo sitting down again!

It was all a bit more civilised than I remembered my last festival experience to be - the atmosphere was lovely and friendly, the food was varied and extremely delicious, and you knew you were at a middle-class festival when Ocado were delivering to site. Between our party of seven, we managed to sample burgers, sausages, noodles, paella, burritos, smoothies, whitebait and pancakes, and make our own buffalo milk ice cream. It's also fair to say that the "Best of British" tent full of small food producers giving out samples also got a good going over.

We danced to "Rockaoke", this guy here, The Bootleg Beatles, Razorlight, Texas, and many more. We got soaked on Saturday and fried on Sunday, and I think my eldest daughter won prize for most authentic festival "look" with her shorts, fleece, wellies and sunglasses combo. All in all, however, I think I knew the first family festival was a success when we got in the car to go home and my youngest daughter burst into tears because she didn't want to leave...

Nostalgia is for Old People

The date stamp on the draft of this post says 8th June, so let's just pretend this post is inspired by recent events and gloss over the fact I've been meaning to write it for nearly two months and failed miserably, can we?

Two unrelated events over the past couple of months have got me thinking about nostalgia. Firstly, our half term holiday to the Peak District brought back a flood of familiar names that I remembered from my childhood. There I was, transported back to the age of 12, sitting in the car outside an antiques shop in Buxton while my parents rummaged around and oohed and aahed over "boring old junk". Or maybe thinking back to freezing in a cave with my friend Alison, laughing as the water dripped onto our heads from the stalactites above. Lyme Park hadn't changed much in over 20 years - unless you counted the state of the art playground that now seems de rigueur for any self-respecting tourist attraction.

Driving home after our holiday, we detoured to try and beat the inevitable South Manchester traffic jams, until there they were - the really familiar names from my childhood. Cheadle. Gatley. We passed my old school - the school where I spent only two years, and yet where, if I close my eyes I can still see the crowds of uniformed pupils meandering down the corridors, or smell the fear of going into the girls' toilets in case the older girls were in there smoking.

The day after we came back, myself and a few girlfriends - all now in our 30s and (shhh) 40s - went to a local 80s night, where Limahl (he of Kajagoogoo fame) and various other artistes transported us back to our youth, along with a crowd of other similarly middle-aged people.

I tried explaining all of this to my daughters, whose blank incomprehension finally made me laugh. The thing is, nostalgia is completely lost on the young. Try telling a six year old that there were only 3 television channels and no tv in the mornings when you were young - or that nobody had mobile phones, and music came on giant black discs. The look of withering pity and incomprehension is enough to make you sob into your snakebite and black...

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go and put my legwarmers on.

Blue Monday

"Blue Monday (Also known as Black Monday) is a name given to a date stated, as part of a publicity campaign by Sky Travel, to be the most depressing day of the year."
Wikipedia

Musical Youth (or lack thereof)

Source: Flickr

I need your help.

I fear I am living in the musical dark ages.

Not only do I not possess an iPod*, but 99% of the music I end up playing seems to pre-date 2005. Granted, since having children that are old enough to express a preference, the CBeebies CD seems to be the only thing that is an acceptable musical soundtrack to our lives. Well, that, or "Sha La La La". However, I can't help thinking that I should be branching out a little and exploring new things.

It appears to be a fact of life that having children means things you might have done"BC" fall a little short. I don't read as many books as I used to. My previous "annual" pass to the cinema would not provide much use for my annual visits. Lazy afternoons in the pub aren't quite as lazy anymore. All of that I expected.

What I didn't expect was that my music listening habit would change. After all, music is something you can have on in the background, even when you are doing other things. Music drowns out the sound of the washing machine, and calms a fraught mealtime (note: this does not apply if you are playing The Prodigy).

I have become lazy in my choices - sticking to the tried and tested. Listening to things that evoke a nostalgia for my youth.

So, tell me - what should I be listening to?

After all, I've got Spotify, and I'm not afraid to use it...

---

(*or similar - other personal music players are also available, although technically I now have that functionality on my phone)

Infinite Playlist Meme

The lovely Very Bored in Catalunya has tagged me for the infinite playlist meme. I think I frightened her into it with the slightly overexcited tweet I sent when her post (at that point unfinished) popped up temporarily in my Google Reader that mentioned She Bangs the Drums by the Stone Roses - bit of a favourite.

I grew up with parents that listened mainly to classical music, and apart from some 60s ditties from their youth, they were very much of the "what's that noise, there's no tune" school of parenting - Top of the Pops was a no-no in our house for a long time, and I'm sure my parents did this on purpose so that my biggest act of teenage rebellion would end up being popular music. I used to religiously buy Smash Hits magazine every fortnight (not easy when we were living in Germany) and copy out the lyrics to every hit of the day in order to learn them off by heart.

The peak of my music buying years covers the decade from the late 80s to late 90s, and even now I veer wildly from a love of the cheesiest 80s pop ever to being more of an early 90s indie kid. So, without further ado:

After their earlier mention, I had to include the Stone Roses - for me probably I Wanna Be Adored. I don't know what it is about this song, but just hearing the intro brings me out in goosebumps when I hear it (that bassline!) and I guess the lyrics are such an obviously teenage angsty thing to go for.

Secondly, the song that OH and I always said we should have chosen as first dance at our wedding (we went for Frank Sinatra's Come Fly With Me in the end) - Fatboy Slim's Praise You (and the video is just hilarious):

Next up - how my life sometimes feels - Road to Nowhere by Talking Heads:

Next, probably the newest song in my list (don't seem to get much chance to listen to as much music as I would like these days - funny that). We saw these guys at the Radio1 Big Weekend last year, when we had a moment of feeling very young and trendy and childless. Needless to say, the tent was full of middle-aged types feeling exactly the same thing. They were great, though.

Franz Ferdinand - Take Me Out

The last one has to go back to my teenage years. I was never a Duranie, or into Spandau Ballet - my weakness was the Nordic cheekbones of Morten Harket and the boys from A-ha. I saw them in concert twice and swooned (and would love to see them on their farewell tour this year if I can somehow arrange it! Anyone want to join me?!)

However, I am going to cheat and add in a little extra - the last call has to go to the song that gets played most often in our house - to my daughters it is simply "Sha La La La" and if it was up to them we would play nothing else. The Comic Relief version was number 1 in the UK charts when DD1 was born, so has a special place in my heart for that, if nothing else.

So - finally, I need to tag some fellow bloggers with this one. I think most people have probably seen it now, so just tagging two people I hope haven't already been tagged yet (apologies if you have):

Notes to Self Plus Two - as she is currently going through pregnancy, which always seemed like a good time to remember some favourite songs

A Small Hand In Mine - simply for the fact that she was my 100th Twitter follower

Happiness is...

I have taken the liberty of taking up the tag thrown down by Dawn at The Moiderer regarding 10 Things that make me Happy. (Apologies, it's a bit of a rushed job. )

So - in no particular order:

1) My husband - who still makes me laugh after nearly 9 years of marriage and 15 years together in total
2) My children - almost goes without saying really - the way they make me look at the world with new eyes.
3) Sunshine - given we live in a generally grey and drizzly country every little ray brings me out in a huge grin
4) Sleep - I am just way too miserable without it. Sadly the days of a long lazy morning in bed are long gone.
5) A glass of bubbly with friends - how could it not?
6) Shoes - my biggest weakness. I know, I know, it's completely shallow, but even since the age of 3 I have had a penchant for killer heels and the way they make me feel. My 2 girls are the same!
7) Reading a good book, something I can get really engrossed in and forget what is going on around me.
8) Getting something unexpected in the post
9) Dancing insanely to the cheesiest music possible
...and finally:
10) The fact that we are going on holiday tomorrow. Yippee!!

I'll also throw this one open to anyone that would like to pick it up - comment below and let me know how you get on.