More S*gar Hill pix...

Every single punter voted it a success, said they would come back next year and bring all their friends. I know this as I was stood at the gate with a table of T shirts to sell to peeps as they left, and i spoke to very single person, all of whom were very drunk but happy...Dreadzone went down a storm..as did Neville Staples, and The Beat. I spent Day 2 being a compere, which goes ok until I am onstage in front of a large Big Top audience for the seventh time that day, having run from the Box Office, or the Other Stage..and I have that 'I have forgotten the name of the band I am introducing' moments. I keep talking in the hope that the name will come to me. It doesn't. They are black rap artists, and as I turn in panic, I see a tense large black guy behind me waiting for me to introduce them so he can start spinning the records on his turntable..he is getting impatient..'Introduce us!' he hisses, hand at the ready to spin..'What's your name?' I hiss back. 'What?' 'What's you name?' I hiss urgently. He look astounded. 'Jo. Just f*cking introduce us!' I don't believe this. Audience behind me getting restless. Rising panic. 'Nooooooooooooo! Not your name, the band's name!' I practically scream. 'M*d Professor'. I turn and shout the band's name, the audience cheers, he plays his record, the rappers come on, I run off. Bloody hell, I may be a crap compere, but I'm cheap.

Later on I am called again on the radio to introduce another act. I run down to the main stage and in the back of the venue, puffing slightly..Hi I say to two startled young men from Sheffield, waiting to go on stage. Hi, I'm your compere. They look at me, old enough to be their older sister...or mother..or...(stop right there...) and one says, No, you're alright, we'll introduce ourselves, thanks.' I leave and go to the medical tent to see Simon for a hug and a pill for the hurt caused by rejection.

And yet another festival....

Yes, I got back home from Edinburgh on Wednesday evening, unpacked my bag, packed another bag and headed off on Thursday morning to a farm just outside Swindon, to S*gar Hill Festival, which as Festival Administrator this year, amongst other things, had been taking a great deal of time up. And causing oodles of stress, for reasons I won't go into. Last year, the first year, we had about 300 people at most, and made a huge loss....


This year we put more money in, spent more on bands, infrastructure and marketing, and hoped...slowly the ticket sales trickled in. I was running the on site box office, and on the Saturday, sold 10K worth of tickets. Excellent. I think we had over 1,000 people on site, and they lvoed it. The sun shone, the bands rocked and everyone was happy.


Except....for the four hours I spent assisting the police with a 'tired and emotional' lady alleging a nasty attack..I seem to come in useful at such times...then there were the horse drawn travellers who joined us...interesting situation, quite complex, ended up being David's and my problem, like the A team, they were all ours....Monday was a tense day, with the farmer wanting them gone, me and D making friends with them, sitting with them, swapping e-mail addresses (how the f*ck you have an e-mail address in a traditional horse drawn wagon I don't know, but there you go...)


We promised not to leave til they did. They wanted to stay..the farmer wanted them to go..we trusted them, relied on our new friendship, prayed they wouldn't let us down, prove us wrong...then, about 7pm, they hitched up their horses and left, coming to say goodbye to us and apologising for causing us stress..I nearly cried...they were seen as the enemy, and I can understand why..everyone breathed a sigh of relief to see them go without confrontation..D and I are invited to join them at their Autumn equinox meeting....I wonder if we should get a horse for the caravan????


So, some pix of the festival......

And so to Edinburgh...

A few days after getting back from GB, I am on a plane to Edinburgh, with my Admin assistant, and we are off to the charity national convention. No sooner have we taken off and I have opened my sandwiches and stirred my tea, and we are our on our descent into Edinburgh. One hour and 5 minutes from Luton. Ridiculous.

It is a good convention. Never been to Edinburgh before, and I see some of it on an hour's bus tour, but it't not enough. We have done half a day's work before flying up. I discover that some of my colleagues took the whole day off and have been shopping and sight seeing. Wish I was not so conscientious.

The talks and seminars are good. At least, the bits I stayed awake for are. I slept through a lot, I have a great deal of sleep to catch up on. The best workshop is the one I did, of course, for 30 brave delegates who signed up for Managing Volunteers, the difficult bits, which involved looking at Assertiveness and How to Give Volunteers Bad News....I haven't run a workshop in ages, and dive in with great enthusiasm. I get them all into groups and we do some role play and share some discussions re managing volunteers, and what peop[le find difficult as managers. The evaluation sheets at the end of the workshop are good, and I get really good positive feedback from someone in the training department. I remember, I like training and running groups, and go on to my next lecture with a real buzz of energy...

That night sees the gala dinner, and when we arrive at the venue, pipers are there to greet us: after the meal there is both a 70s disco and a celidh...Mary Anne and I join in both, and have a laugh at the usual 400 women who attend the convention, the charity being 99.9% female staff, and the odd couple of men, who really can't dance...the celidh is particularly entertaining, when doing the Gay Gordons or some other Scottish dance, once we are all whirling on the dance floor, you can't tell who are supposed to be the men, it's all chaos..We hear for the lives, or at least the virtue of the waiters who get pounced on by some ladies and made to dance in the disco..some of them are very good..and very young... some other friends there disappear during the evening, and it turns out they left and went on a pub crawl with a load of Geordies..they say I would have had a good time. Yes, but they didn't invite me..I stuck with the girl power and the celidh...

After another day of speeches and the launch of our new, modern logo, it is time to get a taxi to the airport and fly home. I am still so tired, having not slept so well in my little single bed, and I am home in time to unpack my bag and repack it ready for an early start to Swindon next morning for Sugar Hill..another day, another festival.....

Don't step on them....

Did I mention I was having a shoe party? I had put it off twice because the kitchen wasn't finished, and although last Tuesday this was still the case, I had sent out all the invitations, and decided to go ahead anyway.

Bless him (he does occasionally get something right..) DC happened to be in St Albans, ie not in the wilds of the North as he usually is on a Tuesday, so he offered to come round at 4pm and help me carry the contents of the two tables in the dining room end of the lounge, to somewhere else, so the tables would be clear to display gorgeous shoes and boots.

When I got home from work, he had already arrived and was already making me a cup of tea. He had also bought me some flowers by way of apologising for upsetting me the previous day, and to acknowledge my vulnerable state. My usually empty silent kitchen was full of workmen, as I had had another go at Mick that morning, but actually I was relying on them not being there so I could put all the stuff in there out the way, and also use one side for putting out nibbles and wine, hurriedly bought at M&S.

Not only were the workmen in, but all the appliances had been delivered and were filling the middle of the kitchen, when cupboards still needed painting.

This fact reduced me to tears of frustration (easily done last week) and so DC hugged me, sat me down and gave me the post he had picked up off the mat, and handed me a cup of tea. I burst into tears again, upon opening that police summons for speeding I mentioned...another hug...but I was distraught at the thought of losing my licence and my job...the last straw.

Still, we got on with the job of carrying all the items of a temporary kitchen into the other room, took a while, and then we found a space in the real kitchen for me to put out food and wine. I then dispatched DC back home, and had an hour to myself to play loud music, hoover, dust, tidy, get changed, put out nibbles, and generally be ready for the shoe lady and up to ten guests.

Do you know, it was a brilliant 'girly' evening. After the chaos of our living conditions, since last August, we had had no-one round really, so to see the lounge clean and tidy and welcoming, and have people round was lovely. We all tried on gorgeous boots and shoes..sadly, the high heeled, knee length red suede boots just would not zip up all the way, so I had to abandon them...plumping instead for the little blue ankle boots, which are comfy and brill with jeans....

Everyone chatted and nibbled and sipped wine, and neighbours I hadn't seen since Christmas caught up with gossip...we looked at Laa's wedding pics, and Laa played hostess for me so I could just chat..and try on sexy shoes...

When they had all gone, it took me about two hours to potter and clear up and put everything back, but I was quite happy...until the next day...

And when I got home.....

This.... you've heard of chicken in a basket? Try kitchen in a skip. When they said we will rip out the kitchen, they meant it. Floor, ceiling, sink, appliances, everything.

So, home from GB with 10 days worth of washing...mmm... Clive, did you do any washing while I was away? No, he didn't need to, he didn't run out of anything.... Hmmm.

So, I got through 2 days at work, trying to keep awake, and spent the evenings making a temporary kitchen in the dining room, consisting of microwave, toaster and kettle, and going to Laa's or Jill's with my washing.... loads of it.

Oh well, it will only be complete chaos for a few weeks..and on Monday I go away again. Edinburgh calls....

A week in pictures.....

So much to say, so little time.....so the pictures tell the stories....leaving the race course on Wednesday, later than we meant to (there's a surprise....) DC decided to try and escape by going under the tunnel by the Arkl bar..not sure the caravan would fit..there are 3 concrete lintels under the roof...got under the first comfortably...then he asked me to get out and see if we would clear the second..well, I did, and we were..with an inch or two to spare..slowly he moved forward..yes, fine, keep going..but then the ramp under the arch goes up hill, it's not flat, and as the landy went uphill, the caravan got higher....the air con unit on the top of the caravan actually touched the arch but just got under...yes, we made it..then there was this kind of popping, cracking noise: and it appeared that the lintel had actually pressed on the unit as the van moved under it, and compressed the roof...as the roof popped back up, the air con unit was suddenly much higher than the lintel, and would very obviously not clear the third lintel... as the roadway was up hill, less clearance etc etc...

So DC jumps out of the caravan and sees what I can see..caravan stuck between two lintels, no way of going forward, no way of going back... 'But there was clearance, it did get under...' I start to say, and I get 'the look.' Oh no, all my fault. I did say, let's not go this way, let's go out the C*ntaur gate, but he didn't listen.....

Suddenly, as if by magic, Site Crew appear from all over the place, laughing like drains, C*llen has got his caravan stuck, best entertainment of the festival..DC is not finding it funny, and it looks like I am in Big Trouble.. I try anad say again, it was going under, fine, I didn't realise that as it met the roof as you went up hill, it was compressing the roof.... suddenly a guy loading a van round the corner appears.. 'Yes, mate, I was watching, it did clear, it did go under, until half way, then it seemd like it was just touching..she's right...' I could have hugged him....

Site Crew blokies and DC start discussions about how to get caravan out..my ideas get drowned in the blokiness of it all, and 'Well, mate, what you need to do is..' and I am ignored and decide to keep out of it..I do keep saying we have to go backewards down hill, tho, not forwards uphill..finally DC hears and agrees....

Then, the cavalry arrives..in the form of the Fire Crew, who have Heard the News (doesn't it travel qickly..) I should add that I am already stood there, taking pictures on my phone, asking DC to pose, and he knows instantly this is being captured for my blog, and he growls at me, 'This is no time to be taking pictures..' Oh but it is the perfect time......

There are hundreds of blokies, Site Crew, Fire Crew and assorted hangers on, all laughing and there is Norman F*re striding into action, taking Gold Command, and DC is the centre of attention of it all, and suddenly he is loving it, and it's not so bad after all, and I even get a smile...

Various people stand on a ladder to view the roof, and chins are scratched, more photos taken, and a plan is hatched.

'Right lads' says Gold Command, 'unhitch the caravan, let the tyres down, and get as many people inside as possible, get the suspension down, the rest of us push it out. Everyone in the back of the caravan...'

I see what I have to do. 'Come on boys, into the bedroom, ' I cry, (was I really saying that???) and I lead the Fire Crew and half the site crew into the bed room of the caravan..we get about seven of us on the bed, then there is standing room only...much giggling, and we even bounce a bit on the bed to help...... as we move there is a shoud from outside..'Everyone up the other end..' so we all clamber off the bed and cram into the far end, and the caravan glides out of it's archway prison into the daylight.

Job done, and Norman helps everyone out, counting as we go, and there are about 12 of us counted out the van, me last to appear, straightening my hair, and saying, 'Oooh, I earned 50 quid while I was in there...' (As KR texted later, that sounded a bit cheap...unless it was each...) The job of re-inflating the caravan tyres took about half an hour, so I took the opportunity of going t0o make a cup of tea, and phoning home to tell this week's excuse as to why I might be a little late home......

This isn't funny, stop taking bl**dy pictures...

OK, Site Crew can sort this..no problem...

Mmmm. let Fire Crew take a look....

I can't believe this is happening to me....

Right lads, this is what we need to do....

Yes, job done, and it's lollipops all round....

And there's more....

..like Liz says, it's hard to capture GB in a few posts.....so much of it was good...I lvoe build week before the public come on site and it's just 'ours'...I lvoed having friends to eat in the caravan on Monday night, seven in all I think, plus DC and me, we cooked (I think I cooked, DC just got in the way) I rememer one friend watching us cooking and the banter and laughing and saying we should be on tele doing a cooking programme....our meal had an Italian theme, garlic bread, pasta and everything.....

Then the big team meal on the Tuesday, 23 of us in the Turkish, eating fit to bust....Wednesday it was the Rising Sun, ate inside tho, couldn't face the 'unbearable cold'....

Then Thursday, with all the busyness, we thought it best to get a Chinese takeaway and eat it in the Production office..it took over an hour to order and have cooked, we were buying for 9 people, honest, I think DC overordered a little, we must have fed 30 people and there was still some left......

Then the festival itself..or what I saw of it...meant to see Billy Bragg, missed him....meant to see Iaian Archer, nearly missed him.... meant to see Cathy Burton, missed her, missed my lunch often too..until I told my buddy (or one of them) I hadn't eaten all day, then he noticed....must find a buddy like Liz's who makes sure she eats and sees things....

But we did see them...lovely people, in the Ops meeting..the meercat (anyone take any pics of me and the meer cat? No? oh, ok.) and Iain...and Martin....wonderful, wonderful moments...real, talented singers, who don't need big stages, or lights, or makeup, or a backing track...they can just stand there, close up, in day light and sing......and improvise....heaven in the ordinary indeed....

And there it was ...gone...

..And I am home again, jiggity jig, it seemed a long time there. but once I'm home, it's nothing, a blink of an eye, over for another year. It's hard, coming home. Re-engaging. I so didn't want to. GB is my space, 10 days of being away, being free, being me..and mostly loving it, mostly being fine...but then there are the hard times, the difficult bits, and the tears at the end because I am simply over tired...as DC said, now he knows the true meaning of being 'tired and emotional'. And it has nothing to do with alcohol!!!!

I lvoe the people, I lvoe the place, I lvoe the scenery, the sunshine, the energy, the passion, the commitment, the interaction, the hugs, the work, helping people, being part of something...I lvoed making things work, being part of a team, being hugged, having people tell me how well I looked, that I had lost weight, that I looked good...I enjoyed feeling better, clocking that one festival I was over emotional because my parents were so ill and I was so worried about them I was in pieces....then there was the festival a couple of months after they had both died, and I was in emotional free fall....then there was the year of clearing and emptying their house, and the next festival I was still fragile, and trying to put the pieces of me back together....then this year.....

I was dreading it if the truth be known. Would I still be like that? Would the pressure of GB, the expectations and work and relationships, would it get to me? How would it be without George? Would I have to decide for the good of others that I really couldn't handle it anymore? But it was ok, better than I expected. I smiled a lot. I enjoyed it. Enjoyed working, enjoyed socialising, enjoyed being. And I coped. Sleeping in a decent bed with a hot shower in the morning helped, I grant you.... I hope I did ok. I enjoyed it.

Downside? I didn't see enough of the festival. Again. Not sure how it happens. The only real downside. Didn't spend time with people I wanted to spend time with....where does the time go? Lost my treasured GB hoody sweat at the Tiny Tea Tent and it wasn't handed in. (Stick, can I borrow yours?) And lastly, to my regret, I hate myself, i did so well until the last night, then I got cross and upset and over tired and the tears wouldn't stop, when it was time to party, I wanted to be having a good time..a bit of me knew that I should just go to bed, but like a small child, I wanted to stay up and join in the party....sorry to those who witnessed the lack of self control....I am so cross with myself...but then, the rest of the time, I did ok...didn't I???