At 5' 6'' my little girl isn't so small but when your county mixed-doubles partner (Joe) is 6' 3" it tends to look that way. This was them yesterday after winning the U18s and the other picture is her having won the Girls U18s doubles with her mate Pardis. I am now saving up for more silver polish. 
In the meantime a very good friend of mine sent me this track which has the classic line: "And the things you can't remember tell the things you can't forget" Tom Waits is such a good writer
This post is dedicated to the return of Icarus, for he seems to eek into everything I hear. This week I purchased the new Karine Polwart album - love it and on there is a song called Beo - which has the boy in it. So here is the lyric and a live version of the song. The iTunes version is better but this is ok - and if you want to hear the Darwin song she refers to it below but I also include another at the bottom of the page from the Darwin Song Project - just cos I luv it but if you click on it you can hear them all in succession:Beo Beo
I'm going home and I'm going home soon
Beo Beo
To where a boy at the window
is opening up his wings to the world
I'm gonna be there
when he takes to the air
I'm gonna watch them unfurl
Beo Beo …
I'm gonna run as fast as I can
Beo Beo
To where a boy at the window
is opening up his heart for the first time
I'm gonna be there to keep it from care
I'm gonna hold it in mine
Beo Beo
I'm going home ...
Words & Music: Karine Polwart (Bay Songs Ltd 2006)
I have spent the week in Belgium, just south of Antwerp in very relaxing mood indeed. I took a guitar with me (not 
this one I am playing) the one pictured left, which is a travel guitar, and I wrote another song which is refreshing because I aim to record a number of them this summer. That is not to say Belgium is all that inspiring - its not. We went to Center Parcs to cycle and swim and just generally chill out. The kids loved it - A. left her tennis rackets at home and D. all his comedy shows on T.V. The rough title of the song is Icarus Flies into Brighton - predictably. But I now realise I have come back to a huge burden of work to be done - papers to write, modules to prepare handbooks for and books to research. Having finished The Ghost of Joe DiMaggio this summer the pending list after its completion just got longer. Still, it could be worse, I could have nothing to do except laze around in the garden for the rest of the summer - what a chore that would be. A got her As results yesterday, on returning. She cried with her 2 Bs (Biology and Chemistry) and the breakdowns showing she was so close to As didn't help. Hard to know what to say to her when she works so hard (being full time at tennis - 26 hours per week - doesn't help). But she will get over it in time. D. and I actually think they are excellent given the circumstances - studying on aeroplanes and in hotel rooms and around tennis courts waiting on matches to begin isn't the easiest preparation. Here's one of my fave singers, saying things I approve off - and we can dance along, yay!
I have a walled garden at the back of my house and its great to be enclosed as we are. But walled gardens are a haven for snails and they are driving me bananas. Did you know snails can climb trees? And they love the fig tree because they climb it daily. Now this year I have a bumper crop of figs and I should really complain if the little blighters attach themselves to one and get high as the figs ripen and they ferment the juice. But I just collected 12 snails of the tree (because it rained last night). I mean twelve, all taking different routes to different figs - hmph, I say to that. Though as the figs ripen on the tree we get attacked by starlings. Every year's the same - and those little blighters talk to each other and it becomes a fight between me and them - and they win because they can reach the high branches - oh for some Icarus wings. And speaking of Icarus, as I often do, here is Ralph Towner giving us his musical view:
The Ladies Bournemouth Open Champion is still my baby girl and I am entitled to be chuffed, especially since I watched the final. But isn't that what being a dad is all about, truth is I would have been proud if it had been tiddly-winks, or even if she had lost, makes no odds. And now this is my new newest fave singer of the moment - Kate Walsh, such a great voice and this is a cool song. I love the simplicity of it, the way it just rolls along with very little effort - its the kind of thing I like to play on my guitar around midnight when the house is asleep.
What a day! desk cleared but painting the front room, och. My arms ache, my throat is dry and I sound like Paolo Nutini singing this other verion of 12345 with KP. Hard to believe he is so young. Its live and a wee bit rough, he sounds like an auld drunk at a Scottish wedding. But its good just the same. Judge for your self. But this is just a short one because I am off to the airport to collect my boy - who has been holidaying with my brother and his boys. I can't wait to see him.
Saying your desk is now free of the last project doesn't mean its free of clutter. This is just a small section but hey, its my desk and I can have on it what i like - which is a mish-mash of stuff bought for me over the years, including the Lady Chatterley's Lover mug, an African drummer and assorted necklaces and bracelets draped around the light and stuff. Though the truth be known, I have only posted this blog to air a song which I adore. I have yet to be able to track it down to iTunes and the like but still, it's worth a listen. Besides, when do we need an excuse to list a song? I'll count to 1; 2; 3; 4; 5... and then let it go...
And so now it is done - The Ghost of Joe DiMaggio is printed, packed and posted, the last edit filed, screensaver restored and I am now moving on, can you feel the breeze ruffling as I whiz on past? This picture doesn't show it but I now have a clear desk for the next few moments. Next stop, ‘Intimacy and the Icarus Effect’ a paper to be co-written for a conference next month - next month, oh yikes! And there is still painting to be done, and plants to be deadheaded and a hedge to be trimmed and... and... Academic holidays are not what the used to be, especially bearing in mind the Routledge contract is on its way - ochone! But still, The Ghost has gone, long live The Ghost! Next big project is being planned but no clues yet - I am very superstitious, fuck art let's dance:
And now The Ghost is edited and ready to roll - I don't think I will tinker with it now but I will let it simmer a while yet before kicking it off the desk - pictured above. This picture is right now, 14.20 on the 1st of August, 2010 which means I have done what I set out to achieve throughout July. I am pleased about that - though not so sure about the novel. I always feel better starting than ending - but hey ho - off we go, onto the next project. Though finishing is like saying a reluctant goodbye to a lover, so I think I might have Richard Thompson closing it down... one step for aching, two steps for breaking, waltzing's for dreamers and losers in love...
The beginning and the end of writing something like a novel (above and aside) is the hardest part, I find. Because filling in the middle is easier, you just make a start, babble on for 50,000 words and then sneak up on the ending before it escapes you. And yet, oddly enough the ending I had planned didn't come. Instead a new ending appeared out of the ether, snuck up and bit me on the derriere (well it was écriture wot did it really). And so this week I am bringing it to the final edit (or at least the final edit of this draft) and then we will see where it goes from there. Problem is I now have another two (commissioned) books and assorted papers to write before next May - yikes to that. My fingers already ache so goodness knows what they will be like then (note to self - get them checked out). I have been recommended Glucosamine Sulphate in the first instance - but who knows. I shall consult the doctor before I do. But I guess its all the same symptoms, I already have oesteoporosis so arthritis is bound to follow as I follow this path into the third trimester of my life - ochone, I am crumbling away and better off when I don't think. I don't need proof - Christopher Ecclestone shows how its done!