Seth Lakeman live in Sheffield

This was an awesome gig... the man is a god among mere mortals with that fiddle. This is a bit of him playin' 'The Riflemen of War'. Bloody brilliant!

For the love of Angry Farmer…

Yes, I did not say ‘The Angry Farmer’… Simply ‘Angry Farmer’ for that is his name. Let it be said with quiet awe… Angry Farmer is real.

His irritation was complete, his ability to box up his anger in to strictly controlled subject matter… His ready smile as he dangled the prize of ‘who wants to feed my lamb’ right on the heels of his rage of ‘I can’t believe you landed your hot air balloon in my godamn airfield…’ was an intense showing. I swear I had to look twice because I felt that we had bonded, that perhaps we had already loved and divorced in this life. It was beautiful. Even as they served champagne later and I studied the ranting farmer… my very own Angry Farmer, through the haze of a booze induced stupor… It occurred to me that I was even watching a passive aggressive artist at work.

It was love, I tell you… sweet love. My eyes followed him hungry as he paced and ranted, and then I looked on adoringly as he appeared cool and collected…

“Let’s feed the lambs” Angry Farmer said.

“Yes, let’s” I replied… following him blindly even as my tortured heart screamed “I will follow you anywhere, Angry Farmer.”

It was real, our love. For a moment we passed through each others lives… My own Angry Farmer.

I swear, I nearly called him Baby….

‘Huzzah!’ I say for the human condition…

Love,

Lynn – lovin’ Angry Farmer from her soap-box

A midnight rescue we were called upon…

People make me laugh. I mean, they actually bring forth the *very* unladylike ‘guffaw’. As I often enjoy being unladylike, this is a happy state of affairs for me. I must ask though, loyal reader(s)… Don’t tell my Mimi. She’s under the misguided impression that I have tea with the Queen most days. I don’t.

Only on Tuesdays and Fridays.

I digress.

I’ve always been a people watcher. This is something of a sport for me… and surely there comes the point when you’ve talked about enough of them you get afraid to join the crowd. The ‘watcher’ becoming the ‘watchee’ takes a bit of guts, but when your own sense of humour is intact, that can be fun too.

There was a time I would do this in the local cafe (still do, fyi… That’s right, Salisbury, I am soooo looking at those white shoes you wore after Labor Day… For shame!!!). Now, thanks to the ‘tintaweb’ I can do it at will… sort of goddess-like with the press of of an ‘on button’. It’s like having a brilliant super-power. There’s none so entertaining as a virtual world full of entertaining people. Some are straight arse-hats… some are so fake that the effort is hilarious. Other’s are so down right basic about who they are that the reality of it all is interesting…. The lies, the drama, the laughter and the tears. They all serve well for the great stage of the human condition. It’s like we are all in a study for the gods while we trip along in this virtual world. And I say ‘huzzah!’… let it never change!

Years ago, at 2am, when you (and by ‘you’, read ‘me’ or take it a step further and correct the English and read ‘I’) could not sleep, there was nothing for it. Bit of TV, staring at the walls… But now! Oh sweet baby james. I can log in to a world of … well… anything.

Yes, just knowing that one can is enough to make you want to wear your knicks on the outside and name yourself 'Uber Woman’ or ‘Wonder Chic’ and run around outside making airplane noises… Oh wait. That’s probably only me. Ach well.

Every once in a while a tiny voice breaks through, and stands out. Another people watcher, just like you…Perhaps we should think of ourselves as a subculture of super hero’s. No wait, let’s be really exciting and think right outside of the virtual box.

Oh shit, we are human.

Imagine that?

Lovin’ y’all… (well most of y’all… Not even that, really. But for *sure* some of y’all)

Lx – starin’ at the gods from the soap-box