Tag Archives: family

The Final UK Carnival of Madness show- memorable to say the least!

 

 

My Carnival of Madness adventure part two began with trains, buses, trains and eventually a taxi to our hotel for the night, handily situated right beside the arena.

Girl Child and I were off on a mother/daughter trip to Manchester!

The first train to Glasgow was uneventful. It was the slow train so it stopped at every lamppost but we got there. Girl Child decided she REALLY needed something from Burger King for second breakfast so by 9.30am she was happily scoffing a Chicken Royale burger …BLEURGH!

Stage two of the journey was a two-hour bus ride to Carlisle. I don’t normally travel well on buses and turn fifty shades of green within a short period of time however I survived this trip intact. We found ourselves in a very cold Carlisle station. Us and the rest of the population of Carlisle! Some steam train (I think it was the Flying Scotsman – I’m no train spotter) was due to pass through and stop at the station. In all the confusion we missed our train.

I’m too polite to repeat what my Girl Child had to say about that!

If in doubt, find some caffeine! We parked ourselves at a small platform-side café that was equally cold for lunch.

Our second attempt at catching the Trans-pennine Express was more successful and we were soon on our way, albeit an hour behind schedule.

I had booked first class seats so the journey was quite calm and pleasant and included free coffee! Never a bad thing.

We arrived at Manchester’s Piccadilly Station around 3.30pm. It was a zoo!! Eventually we found the correct exit and a taxi rank.  The late afternoon traffic was bedlam and it was just after 4pm before we finally arrived at our hotel.

Our fifth floor room was nothing fancy. It was clean. You know what to expect from a Travel Lodge room. Girl Child promptly claimed the double bed as hers….guess the single would have to do me.

We snacked on the juice, popcorn and biscuits that I had in my bag while we got ready to head out to the show.

The arena was only a short walk from the hotel but finding the way was like walking through a labyrinth. First time I’ve entered a gig via a railway station!

We made our usual pilgrimage to the merchandise stall (yes, Four, I was a naughty girl and bought more shirts and, no, I’m not telling you how many), had a quick comfort stop then made our way into the standing arena.

Another first here- the standing arena is accessed from the top level of the hall and down through all the seats. Following the queue, we zig-zagged our way down to the arena floor. The event staff were collecting in the tickets. I queried if we could keep them as souvenirs (I have every ticket from every show I’ve been to) The guy assured me we would get a ticket back on the way out at the end…oh….ok….

It was decision time- right or left hand side of the stage? We went right.

Manchester Arena is huge in comparison to others I’ve been in. (I believe it can hold around 21000) and the standing arena was sold out. By some small miracle we found ourselves a spot three or four rows off the barrier among reasonably short people and with a good view of the stage. Happy days!

Highly Suspect came on stage at 6.15, launching straight into a raucous set. There was a different energy about them compared with the Glasgow show and the Manchester crowd appeared to be enjoying them more than the Scottish rock fans had. I guess I enjoyed their performance a lot more too as I was finally getting to hear the entire short set…..that was until their front man “gobbed” on stage again Twice! Bleurgh! Would I still like to see them play a smaller show? Hmmm…the jury is currently out on that thought.

Next up were Halestorm who were in storming form! Lzzy was most definitely commanding this crowd. Mid-set Black Stone Cherry appeared on stage to do a meet and greet (was that Zach Myers in the midst of it?) then John Fred Young and the drummer from Highly Suspect stayed on stage to “assist” Arejay with his drum solo. Good hearted end of UK tour antics that the fans were loving. The set hadn’t altered much from Monday night’s show. Mayhem, Freak Like Me and I Miss The Misery rounded things off in raucous RnFnR style.

One of the best Halestorm performances that I’ve seen.

I had warned Girl Child about the tape that would play in between Halestorm and Shinedown’s sets. Yes, Manchester too was treated to the fifteen minute meditation tape. What the hell was all that about, boys?

The energy in the room evaporated rapidly.

Girl Child loves Shinedown so they were to be the highlight of her evening as it was her first experience of seeing them play live. They didn’t disappoint. Yes, Brent Smith wasted time talking too much and by going for a saunter through the arena but, in general, he seemed back on his game. I was enjoying seeing more of Zach Myers this time round. Love him to bits!

My heart swelled as I watched Girl Child sing and cheer, horns up, with a wide grin on her pretty wee face. I love to see her happy and enjoying herself.

Shinedown’s set was identical to Monday night’s with one addition. Brent Smith declared that as they were in Manchester they had better play something to keep the locals happy. They did just that by playing Oasis’ Don’t Look Back In Anger before moving on to play Simple Man. Have I said how much I love that song?

Set closer Sound Of Madness nearly lifted the roof off the arena.

Manchester loves Shinedown!

Our long day of travel and rock music was starting to take it’s toll. Both Girl Child and I were wilting a little. Our backs were in agony and she was complaining her feet were sore from standing. My shoulders were aching. Cue the entry of the “rock’n’roll polo mints” and a Dextro tablet each. Gig survival kit!

We were both very thirsty by this point though.  We’d been there for about four hours by this time.

Manchester, you could learn a lot about passing back water to thirsty fans from your colleagues at the SSE Hydro!!!!

Not a drop of water was to be had. (Once, the security staff passed a large sports bottle along the very front row but nothing was offered beyond that) Very poor show, Manchester.

The curtain had again been raised to hide the stage changeover but from our vantage point we could see the stage crew working hard. Although why they were burning an incense stick in the machine heads on one of the guitars is beyond me….

Shortly before show time, the tape being played to keep the crowd amused played Slipknot’s Psychosocial. The crowd around us went wild and were in fine voice! We were revved up and ready to rock once more!

A few moments later than scheduled the lights went out, Black Stone Cherry began Me And Mary Jane. The curtain fell and the front of the stage exploded with jets from a row of air cannons blasting skywards. Rain Wizard and Blind Man followed. Explosive start to the show!

Like Halestorm and Shinedown before them, the boys from Kentucky were on fire tonight!

 

(I had started to write this on the train journey home on Sunday – my train of thought was de-railed by more unexpected travel issues – but more of that shortly)

 

Now where was i?

 

Holding On To Letting Go almost raised the roof! Awesome!

I loved the snatch of Roadhouse Blues in Yeah Man…..and then the evening took a downward spiral.

I noticed that Girl Child had gone kind of quiet. I asked her if she was ok and got a mumbled response. I put my arm around her waist and she didn’t immediately protest. She was on the point of collapse.

With my arm securely round her, I half dragged her to the side and signalled to one of the security staff, indicating that we needed water quick. She was given a few squirts from the communal sports bottle.

It didn’t help.

A few feet to our left Arejay Hale and Josh Hottinger from Halestorm stood watching the show – Girl Child never even saw them.

The security girl let us through the barrier and a supervisor directed us up the entire length of the arena to a corridor where there were toilets and a “bar hatch”. Manchester Arena isn’t the most modern or luxurious. I sat Girl Child down on the floor, propping her up against the wall and ran to fetch her a Coke in an attempt to get some sweet liquid into her.

It had a little effect but she was still not really with me.

An annoying little drunk came over to chat. Instantly the security supervisor was at my side chasing him. With the drunk duly despatched, the supervisor suggested we head to the first aid station.

In the background, I could hear Black Stone Cherry playing The Rambler – I could’ve cared less! My baby girl was my focus.

The first aid room was on the opposite side of the arena. I half carried her across the back of the hall as Black Stone Cherry belted out Peace Is Free (or was that Pizzas Free) accompanied by Lzzy Hale and other members of Halestorm.

The first aid room was basic beyond belief. The first aiders, although very pleasant, had basic knowledge and little in the way of help to offer me. I explained what had happened etc etc then asked if Girl Child could lie down for a few minutes with her legs raised. After about ten minutes (it felt like forever) she began to feel a little better and began to talk to us again.

I then began to fret about how I was going to get her back to the hotel. Was I going to have to drag her up all those stairs through the seating area again?

The first aider put my fears at ease and said, as we were staying at the Travel Lodge, he would bend the rules and let us leave by the “back door.”

To the strains of White Trash Millionaire, I helped Girl Child along the corridor and out into the secure yard where the tour buses were parked.

When we exited the gate I discovered the hotel was only about 100 yards away.

Once safely back in the hotel I ordered some food and drinks from the bar and eventually we took them up to the room with us. A combination of Irn Bru, Coke and fresh air had revived Girl Child and she managed to eat her meal.

My nerves were shot!

While she slept all night, I lay awake worrying about her.

Next morning, she was more or less back to normal. I was shattered!

When we went down for breakfast, the dining room was a sea of exhausted, hungover rock fans all wearing new band merch. I’d had one beer and about three hours sleep at best and I felt as rough as they looked!

Bags packed, we checked out and headed out into the sunshine in search of some retail therapy at the Arndale Centre.

After a medicinal stop at Starbucks for caffeine and a whirlwind shopping trip, it was time to head back for the train to Carlisle.

I’d spoken to the Big Green Gummi Bear earlier on and he’d very kindly offered to meet us in Carlisle and save us the two hour bus trip and forty minute train ride.

The train left on time. We had the entire first class carriage to ourselves. Bliss!

A bout an hour and three quarters later the train stopped at Penrith. The service was terminating there. Some poor individual had jumped under the train that had been in front of ours. Icy shivers ran down my spine.

A quick call to the Big Green Gummi Bear caught him before he turned off for Carlisle and he agreed to drive the extra few miles to fetch us at Penrith.

I don’t know when I was last so glad to see him!

As he drove us home, Girl Child chattered away. In the passenger seat, I finally relaxed.

We’d survived. From listening to Girl Child, I gathered that despite everything, she’d enjoyed her trip. Despite all the dramas, we’d both enjoyed a memorable weekend.

Perhaps not the mother/daughter weekend I’d envisaged in my head but most definitely one to remember.

Wonder where we can go next?

Man CofMManchester

The Opening Night of Gig Season 2016 – the Carnival of Madness pt 1

 

 

Well it had to happen at some point soon – gig season  has begun and I headed out to play once more!

No train to Glasgow this time though. I got to enjoy the luxury of being chauffeured and chaperoned by a friend, who for the purposes of this tale, we’ll call Four.

Our destination for the evening?

 We were heading for the Carnival of Madness at the SSE Hydro.

The plan was that we would drive to Glasgow’s Science Centre, meet up with Boy Child and Facebook Son then walk over to the venue.

Despite Mother Nature’s best efforts as Storm Henry battered Scotland, we made it to the Science Centre on time, found the two boys, who had made a mad dash across Glasgow from uni, and headed across the footbridge towards the Hydro.

The wind whistling up the River Clyde would’ve cut you in two and it was a chilly few minutes as we queued to get in. Colder for the two boys who were out in t-shirts! Weans!

It was a relief to finally get inside and out of the icy wind.

Cue a whirlwind search for “dinner” for Four (I’m not convinced a bag of Kettle chips qualifies as dinner) and a quick trip to the merchandise stall for me.( Yes I know I didn’t need another shirt) Boy Child and Facebook Son prepared to abandon us once more as they went off  in search of two of their friends (Bread Boy and his long suffering girlfriend). With a rendezvous point agreed for later, we left them to it and headed into the bowl.

Opening band Highly Suspect were already on stage. I had really been looking forward to hearing them as I love their debut album. (I’ve already reviewed this show on my music blog https://the525toglasgow.wordpress.com  but perhaps can be a little more candid here among friends) We’d missed two out of Highly Suspect’s six songs but, from what I heard, I was bitterly disappointed. They looked and sounded way out of their depth. I enjoyed their performance of Lydia but it fell flat with the small crowd. A Glasgow audience is a tough gig in itself. During their final song, the lead singer “gobbed” on stage. My stomach heaved! That’s a pet hate of mine and is quite simply a disgusting thing to do, especially on stage. Totally anti-social!

During the interval, I spotted Boy Child over to my right and the “mummy” in me relaxed a bit. (He’s not got a good track record of coming out of shows intact) Four and I were safely positioned to the left hand side as you looked up at the stage and were about three rows off the barrier. Perfect.

As ever though, my record for being beside the extra wide or extra tall rock fans remained intact. Before Halestorm took to the stage Mr Short and Wide moved out, heading for the bar, and never to return, much to the annoyance of the two girls who were waiting for the drink he had promised to bring back. I wasn’t complaining.

Halestorm are one of my favourite live bands and this was the fifth time that I’d been fortunate enough to see them live. They delivered a fantastic forty-five minute set, cramming in nine songs plus Arejay’s shortened acrobatic drum solo. The sound wasn’t perfect and it blighted a couple of songs but, as ever, Lzzy owned the stage and had the swelling crowd hanging on her every note.

Next up were Shinedown, another band close to my heart. I’ve seen them twice before and have been listening to them for the better part of ten years. If there’s one band that re-ignited my love of rock music, it was these guys. Through them I discovered Alter Bridge and Myles Kennedy and the rest, as they say, is history…..

Shinedown’s stage crew set up the stage as though they were to headline the show. Also cue the most bizarre PA tape being played between sets that I’ve ever heard- fifteen minutes of a meditation tape. It killed the energy in the room that’s for sure!

To my immediate right, I now had possibly the tallest guy in the entire venue. I kid you not, the top of my head barely reached his shoulders and my nose was level with his elbow.  No, I’m not a total midget. I’m 5’ 3” but this guy had to be at least 6’ 6” or taller!

Finally, the lights dimmed and Shinedown were in the room. Like Halestorm, they too had forty five minutes or thereabouts to entertain and woo the fans. There is no doubting that Brent Smith is a charismatic front man and an incredible vocalist but something was just a bit “off”.  There’s been criticism online that he’s resorting to auto tune to support his live performances and open accusations of miming. I’ll refrain from commenting and reserve judgement but something didn’t feel quite right. Perhaps it was the “new look” with the baseball cap and shades. That cap never left his head and his face was constantly shielded by it. Oh, I can’t put my finger on it but it’s bugging me!

They played a fantastic set. I love watching bass player, Eric Bass. That guy’s insane! Zach Myers is cute and adorable and talented but he spent most of his time on the far side of the stage from where we were standing. Barry Kerch on drums was presiding from on high, dreads flowing freely.

Mid-set Brent instructed the crowd to part in the middle, creating a path for him and Zach Myers to walk through. The crowd split to our right but all I actually saw was the tops of their heads as they made their way front to back, shaking hands. A nice gesture if you’re the headliners; a waste of precious time if you only have less than an hour to shine.

For me the crowd shuffle resulted in Mr 6’ 6” moving in front of me. My view of the stage diminished for the remainder of the set. Typical!

All in all, I love Shinedown, really enjoyed their performance and would be front of the queue to see them headline a show. As a support act, they frustrate the hell out of me! They played Simple Man, one of my all-time favourite songs and somewhat redeemed themselves …..until next time.

By now it was about 8:50pm. Headliners Black Stone Cherry were due out at 9:25pm. Plenty of time for a comfort break…or so I thought! Four darted off, promising to return shortly and he assured me before he left that he knew where we were standing. The minutes ticked by…

Like most of the other folk around me I checked my phone for messages and updates.

Randomly Girl Child was messaging me wanting me to make her a cup of tea….strange child!

Time ticked on… No sign of Four returning. Hmmmm…..

Suddenly, in front of me, Mr 6’ 6” began to wobble then collapsed, out cold, in a heap on the floor. He’d fainted! Security staff and the surrounding fans swiftly lifted him over the barrier and he was carried off for medical attention. I hope the guy was ok but his sudden departure meant I could actually see the stage again. Then it dawned on me…if Four had been using him as a landmark he was now somewhat stuffed.

Eventually I messaged him to see if he’d got lost. I was relieved when he replied, explaining though that he was stuck some ten feet behind me. He couldn’t find a way through and, in fairness, the standing arena was tightly packed near the front. At least I knew he was ok so I could relax a bit. (Yes, I’m a serial worrier and the “mummy” in me feels responsible for the entire group when we are out, regardless of their age.)

Right on time, the lights dimmed, the curtain fell and Black Stone Cherry were live on stage. They delivered an incredible set! This was the fourth time I’d seen them and I think it was best I’ve seen them play so far. Ben Wells is an incredibly energetic guitarist, barely staying still for a second. This energy is rubbing off on bassist Jon Lawhorn, who was also covering a lot of ground on stage.

About twenty minutes in, a white spotlight was trained on the crowd about ten feet directly behind me. Something had happened in the crowd. I’m not sure if it was another fainter or if it was a scuffle. Chris Robertson commented from the stage that he hoped the guy was ok.

Cue another few moments of irrational panic as I fretted whether it was Boy Child, Facebook Son or Four who had been involved. (I know, several thousand folk to choose from etc etc…it’s the mummy in me!) A wave of calm washed over me as I reasoned there was nothing I could about it as I was well and truly stuck where I was.

Every time I’ve seen these boys from Kentucky, Chris Robertson has sung straight from the heart. This show was no exception.

After John Fred’s amazingly mind blowing drum solo (he is probably my favourite drummer), Chris stepped out on stage alone to perform a solo acoustic version of Things My Father Said. He openly confessed to being scared. The audience took him to their hearts and sang proudly along with him. A beautiful, raw, honest and powerful performance. Love love loved it!

A second acoustic song, The Rambler, followed with Ben Wells joining Chris on stage. Stunning song that has stirred my excitement about their forthcoming album, Kentucky.

The fabulous Lzzy Hale joined them for Peace Is free a few minutes later. It was great to see the band all looking as though they were enjoying themselves as much as the fans.

 Blame It On The Boom Boom rounded off the main body of the set and Black Stone Cherry left the stage.

Within seconds, the capacity crowd was begging for “one more f*%king song”

The boys from Kentucky didn’t disappoint. They played two!

A Black Stone Cherry show always ends with Lonely Train. The fans lapped it up! This was followed by a colossal version of Ace of Spades, a touching tribute to the late great Lemmy.

And that was it. Ninety minutes gone in the blink of an eye. Picks were flicked out into the crowd. John Fred hurled a handful of sticks to the fans. The lights came up and the fans began to troop out of the arena.

I was extremely relieved to locate the AWOL Four within a minute or two. One down, two to go.

As arranged we met Boy Child and Facebook Son at the door (and I finally got that comfort break!) then as a group we headed back to the car.

The storm hadn’t abated so “blown back to the car” may be more appropriate but at least it wasn’t raining…yet. After the heat of the venue the cool air was most welcome for the first minute or two.

By the time we were driving out of the car park the heavens had opened.

Judging by the buzz and hilarity during the blustery journey home, I guess the night had been a success all round. There’s a whole other story that could be told here about that journey back but I’ll save it to spare any blushes….but I really didn’t fancy a late night detour via Kilmarnock!

Me – I was tired and happy. Happy to see the others happy but also happy that it had been a fantastic night. Gig season 2016 has certainly opened in style.

And inwardly, I was smiling that I get to do it all again in a few days, in another city, with Girl Child…..but that’s a tale for next week.

HS1H5H1S1S3BSC2BSC4BSC1BSC6

The First Annual Mother/Daughter Day of Culture

Yesterday was the last day of the school October mid-term break here and I decided to spend it with Girl Child. Mother/Daughter time and all that stuff. Depending on teenage hormone level this could mean a suicide mission!

Fortunately hormone levels were under control. As a precaution though, I fed her tea and toast with Nutella for breakfast. A hungry Girl Child, hormonal or not, is a dangerous creature!

Our destination for the day was one of my favourite places in Glasgow. No, it wasn’t Starbucks or Café Nero! We were heading to the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum in the city’s West End.

I also discovered en route that it was Girl Child’s first trip on the Glasgow Underground. She’s still not convinced that even she couldn’t get lost on it!

glasgow-subway-map

Having hopped off the “clockwork orange” at Kelvinhall, we headed off towards the art gallery.

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Currently there’s a costume exhibition on and, with Girl Child’s interest in art and design, it seemed like a good place to start. Being brutally honest here, I was a little disappointed in the exhibit. The website and promotional literature suggests it’s a more extensive display than it actually is. That said, the dresses are stunning.

dress collage 2

dress collage

Girl Child quickly decided that the faceless mannequins would make ideal Dr Who monsters! (She has a fear of masks and things like that) The bride was particularly creepy though so I couldn’t disagree with her.

P1070153

Having had our fill of frocks, we meandered through the rest of the building.

I love the building itself. It’s stunningly beautiful inside and out.

It was built in the late 1800’s (same era as the dress exhibition covers) from the proceeds of the 1888 International Exhibition that was held in Kelvingrove Park. It first opened its doors to the public in 1901. The sprawling red sandstone building is built in a Spanish baroque style (looks Gothic to my un-educated eye) with its main entrance facing out across Kelvingrove Park. (No, it wasn’t built back to front as per the urban myth.)

collage 4

The centre piece in the central hall is a huge pipe organ. I wonder what the acoustics are like?

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Another striking feature of the main foyer is The Floating Heads modern art display by Sophie Cave. Each of the fifty or so white heads portrays a different emotion. Subtle lighting can make these faces decidedly freaky. Girl Child wasn’t a fan. Me – I love them!

collage 3

Another must visit gallery is the small room that houses Salvador Dali’s “Christ of St John on the Cross”. I fell in love with that painting the very first time my mum took me to see it when I was about twelve. It’s stunning!

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There’s something for everyone in the museum. There’s something for all ages too judging by the plethora of pre-school age children rampaging through the natural history hall. But then again, you’re never too young to be introduced to a place like this.

After another subway ride back into the city centre and lunch in the Hard Rock Café (well it was right outside the subway station. It would’ve been rude not to!) we headed off to Glasgow’s Gallery of Modern Art (GOMA) It’s not the biggest art gallery but it is the most visited modern art gallery in Scotland.

I’m not generally a fan of modern art (apologies if this offends anyone). I like my art to look like something I can relate to. There’s something about most modern art that I don’t fundamentally “get”. However Girl Child enjoyed her visit and I got to see my first braille landscape painting (Girl Child thought it was a blank canvas – should’ve remembered your glasses, dear!). GOMA was deemed a hit all round.

collage 5

We’d been out for approximately six hours by this point and not a cross word had been spoken. Miracle!

After a detour into Schuh to get new laces for my leather Converse boots (HUGE thanks to the assistant who helped me find what I was looking for), we headed back to the station.

Tired and with the caffeine tank running on empty, we headed home on the train having had an almost perfect day. Perhaps we should make this an annual event?

The Family Clock

The last few weeks have seen a few subtle changes to the daily routine around here.

New school year for Girl Child. No major dramas….so far.

Start of university life for Boy Child. No major dramas ….so far.

It’s also a gradual move into the next phase of parenthood. A further step towards their independence. A further loosening of the reins.

Now they may beg to differ here but I think The Big Green Gummi Bear and I are reasonably relaxed with both of them. Yes, we like to know where they are, how they are getting home and when we can expect them back. Not unreasonable requests.

This is still largely under our control with Girl Child as one of us usually has to collect her from wherever she is. (Boy Child comes in handy for this too now that he can drive.) Boy Child is pretty much free to come and go as he pleases, within reason.

This is taking a bit of getting used to. I still can’t sleep soundly at night until I know he’s home in one piece. Fresher’s Week was a parental challenge and saw a distinct lack of sleep on my part. I’m not used to Boy Child sauntering in at three in the morning!

I’ve also discovered that it takes a hell of a lot of coffee to function after less than five hours sleep!

It’s a pleasure to watch them both mature into young adults. They’ll cringe if they read this, but they are both good kids and I appreciate how fortunate we are with them.

Boy Child’s late nights reminded me of a poem I wrote a few years ago. It’s been a while since I shared any poetry on here.

Enjoy!

Family Clock

A mental family clock ticks inside my heart.

Conscious of each family member

Not safe at home in the family heart.

Whether child, spouse or cat

My heart can tell where they’re at.

Once home safe and sound

Their personal “tick” settles down.

Whilst still out and about

Their clock ticks aloud.

With contempt the cat stares from across the street

And pads off into the night.

My family clock ticks on and on.

written 16/3/10

Hanging Out In The Memory Bank

Sometimes when the “real” world gets too much you need to escape into the “Memory Bank”.

The “Memory Bank” is crammed full of precious memories from life.

Some of them are songs. Some of them are food. Some of them are photos

You get the hint.

For various reasons way too private and person to go into here, I’ve spent a lot of time browsing the “Memory Bank” over the past few days.

(And before any friends start to panic, I’m fine. No need to worry. I just needed to get my head round something.)

It’s been fun “hanging out” at the “Memory Bank” while recharged my emotional batteries.

Yes. Some of the memories in there are bittersweet. I’m not going to lie but even they have their own “vault” within the “Memory Bank”.

There’s a few sad ones in there too but I tend to skipped past that “room” in search of happier galleries.

Occasionally memories “skip” rooms as the “real” world twists and turns.

There’s been a degree of memory “sorting and filing” over the last few days too.

Before this becomes maudlin and I’m delving back into the dark recesses of my mind, I thought I’d share a few totally random memories from the dim and distant past.

I mentioned a moment ago that songs conjure up memories. One slightly reckless but precious memory springs instantly to mind whenever I hear the original Guns ’n’ Roses version of Paradis City. Before the intro is over I’m mentally transported back about eight or nine years to a hot sunny morning spent on the town beach at Cape May, NJ. The kids and I had been dropped off by mu uncle for a couple of hours on our own on the beach. I desperately needed a few minutes of music and “me time”. The kids were about six and eight at this point. While they ran off down the crowded beach and played unsupervised in the ocean, I lay in the sun listening to Paradise City on my son’s mp3 player. For those six minutes and forty eight seconds I too was in Paradise. (No children were harmed due to lack of parental attention at that time)

Meringues from a local bakery are another source of early childhood memories. As a wee girl, I remember visiting my mum’s old auntie several times a week. She was a fabulous old lady and she adore children. I must have made the mistake one day of saying I liked fresh cream meringues. On a regular basis thereafter until she passed away, she bought me a fresh cream meringue from the local baker’s. I clearly remember kneeling up on the chair at the table in her small flat, eating my meringue in front of the budgie’s cage. (I’ve no idea why his cage lived on the table)Poor woman sickened me of meringues. Forty years later and I still can’t eat another one but the memories of her kindness and eagerness to please are so sweet.

fresh-cream-meringue

The ”Memory Bank” is pretty stuffed full with photo memories. Mt phone is pretty full with photo memories. My sideboard has a whole section full of photo albums and there are many more in another cupboard and on the book shelves. My laptop too (and external hard drive) has more than its fair share too.

Yes, I admit it, I hoard photos!

It would be virtually impossible to share them all.

I’ll pick one.

Eleven summers ago I took the kids to the USA to visit our American family for the first time and, as part of the two week trip, we spent a day or so in Washington DC. I’d been there as a little girl and was keen to go back to visit places from my own childhood memories. Before we left home, Boy Child, who was only six at the time, had been playing a driving game called Midtown Madness on the X-box. As part of the game, he could “drive” around Washington, DC. Repeatedly he drove his vehicle of choice into the Reflecting Pool in front of the Lincoln Memorial on the Mall. I commented that we’d see the pool while we were on holiday.

The day we visited the Mall, the pool had been drained for cleaning. Lo and behold, its base was covered in tyre tracks. You’ve never seen a little boy so happy to see “his” tyre tracks in real life.

USA 2004 122

Happy memories!

credits to the owner of the GnR video. and to the owner of the Google image of the fresh cream meringue

Yes- Rehoboth Is A Real Place

One question I’ve been asked on numerous occasions since unleashing my Book Baby on the world is – Is Rehoboth a real place?

Yes it is and it’s one of my favourite places on earth.

( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rehoboth_Beach,_Delaware )

I first visited the small city in the exceedingly hot summer of 1980, during my second family holiday to visit family in the USA. I was only ten years old but the town captured my heart. Little did I know then but it would be twenty four years before I’d be back.

The first time I’d visited the States, I’d been four years old and we’d spent a few days near Ocean City, NJ. Among other memories that stood out for me from that first trip were memories of walking in the cold sand under the boardwalk and of walking on the boardwalk itself. Aged ten, I was keen to see the ocean and the boardwalk again.

During that first trip to Rehoboth, we stayed in a rented house for a week, splitting our beach time between Dewey Beach and Rehoboth Beach. My recollections of the beach near the town of Dewey Beach are that it was beautiful but it reeked of dead smelly horseshoe crabs. There were piles of them at the back of the beach. The smell was awful! My memories of Rehoboth smell much sweeter!

The town beach at Rehoboth was fabulous to the ten year old me. I loved playing in the ocean swell, “jumping waves” with my aunt, and later in the day, visiting the shops up on the boardwalk. A couple of times we came back into town after dinner and walked the boardwalk as the sun set.

Memories of salt water taffy and fudge and of T-shirt shops selling souvenirs and hermit crabs filled my beach dreams for over twenty years.

Roll on until 2004 when I returned to America to visit my relatives but this time I arrived as an adult (well, as close as I’m going to get) and the mother of two small children. I made a special request to visit Rehoboth while we were there.

My memories from 1980 were of clear blue skies and blistering sun. When I returned to town in July 2004, the skies were over cast. By the time my cousin had parked his beaten up old van (there’s a whole story about that van that I’ll save for another day) and sourced the obligatory quarters for the parking meter (yes- they still have parking meters in the centre of town), the heavens had opened and we were all soaked to the skin by the time we sprinted into Hooters for lunch.

It didn’t matter to me in the slightest. Even under the black rain clouds, Rehoboth still looked exactly as it had in my mind for all those years. Whew!

The rain had eased up by the time we’d finished lunch so we strolled down the main avenue and along the boardwalk. Bliss! All the shops looked and felt the same, right down to the hermit crabs in their brightly coloured shells.

Since then it’s become a family pilgrimage, when we are lucky enough to be in the States, to spend a day at the beach then come into town for dinner and a stroll along the boardwalk.

Even the drive down from Philadelphia, down the Coastal Highway, to reach Rehoboth Beach and nearby Cape Henlopen has been a ritual. Dover Downs race track is the first major sign, signalling that you are past the half way point in the journey. Each of us has our own personal landmark that we watch out for as we head towards the ocean. There are numerous, now familiar, landmarks apart from Dover Downs. There’s a particular house with its own hangar and, I believe, its own airstrip, there’s a surf-style shop miles outside town selling all sorts of beach inflatables, there’s the first road sign that says “Beaches”, there’s the sign that says Slaughter Beach (that one always makes me smile. I need to visit there someday) then there’s the Rehoboth Beach water tower.

I can see each and every one of these in my mind’s eye as I type this even though it’s been three years since my last visit. Too long!

A day at the shore usually means hitting the sand south of the town where my cousin can drive his truck down onto the sand (after letting a lot of the air out of the tyres), finding a good spot to sunbathe, fish and play in the ocean swell. A good spot to watch for dolphins. After a day in the sun, we pile into the truck and, after re-inflating the tyres, drive up to the bath house a couple of miles up the road for a shower. The bath house is all part of the experience! Sand- filled luke-warm showers. Black biting flies and mosquitos by the dozen and screaming, whining, tired, sun-burnt kids. It’s a great facility but definitely not one of the highlights of the day! However, it gets all the sand, well most of it, washed out the bits that sand should never be in and freshens you up so you look semi-respectable when you arrive in town.

Every time there’s the same scramble for quarters…you’d think we’d learn! Somehow, between us all, we always find enough. At Boy Child’s request, it’s pizza for dinner with a bowl of cheese fries on the side – sinfully delicious! As for the pizza – well it’s worth travelling 3000 miles for!

I try to steal a few moments down on the beach, imprinting the place in my mind until next time round.

We walk the boardwalk, play tourist in and out of the shops, visit the arcade then head back to the truck as the sun disappears and the quarters run out.

Happy days and precious memories.

My high school English teacher once said to me that one way to make my stories more believable and realistic was to write about places and things that were close to my heart.

When it came to choosing a location for my Silver Lake series, there only ever was one choice – Rehoboth Beach, Delaware.

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Book Baby aka Stronger Within – book one in the Silver Lake series can be found at-

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Stronger-Within-Volume-Silver-Series/dp/151176709X/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1436461771&sr=8-1

The Last School Trip – Prom Night

Humour me, please, for a few moments. I’m about to engage proud mother mode aka embarrassing mum mode if you are the target child.

Last week marked a landmark event in the life of Boy Child as he signed the leaver’s form for high school. Thirteen years of school done and dusted in the blink of an eye.

His final year culminated in the final school trip – the school prom.

Trust me, it’s not just the girls who put thought into what they’ll wear to prom.

Much to my surprise Boy Child didn’t take much persuading to hire a kilt for the occasion. So a couple of weeks ago we headed off to the hire shop. Let’s just say he needs to grow into his body and is still a gangly teenager who is all arms and legs. With the measurements taken and amid much slagging off and giggling form me, he chose his outfit.

On Wednesday after work I ran into the shop to collect said outfit (and pay for its hire). As I lugged it back to the car I was quickly reminded of just how heavy a kilt is!

After dinner Boy Child was advised to try the ensemble on to ensure it all fitted. Twenty minutes later he stomped back into the kitchen half-dressed muttering and pleading for assistance Seventeen years old and over six feet tall and still needed his mummy’s help – cue more giggling and teasing from me. Confession – we did resort to You Tube for a reminder on how to tie Ghillie brogues correctly!

So Friday, Prom Night, dawned wet and windy. So much for sunny June weather! However someone was keeping an eye over those youngsters as the skies cleared and the sun was shining by the time we were all due to assemble at the school for the pre-prom reception. Pity the wind didn’t die down!

In true organised McCallum fashion we arrived separately. Boy Child had finished work early to go home and fight his way into his kilt while I had agreed to meet him at the school.

As I drove up the driveway towards the school and saw the crowd of young adults in all their finery surrounded by their proud parents, it hit me.

I was there to see my baby boy off on his final school trip!

I’ll not lie – there was a lump in my throat.

It took me a few minutes to find him in the crowd but when I saw him in all his kilted finery my heart swelled with pride. My baby boy has grown into a fine looking young man.

Cue photo shoot!

Suffice to say it was chaos as everyone was trying to get photos with their friends and family and not photo bomb each other’s shots.

I was happy enough with the end result. Got photos of Boy Child with his friends including my two “Facebook Sons” and “Bread Boy” (see a previous blog post for that story)

Where did the little boys that we watched head into primary one go? It seems like only yesterday….

They’ve all grown into handsome young men.

The girls looked stunning in a rainbow of beautiful ball gowns. Long gone were the little girls who used to play with dolls and skipping ropes!

After a blessedly brief speech from the head teacher, it was time for the senior pupils to leave the school for one last class trip.

As they all trooped off towards the waiting coaches I watch Boy Child walk off with his friends without a backwards glance.

Time for me to go.

By all accounts and judging by the flood of photos on Facebook they had a fabulous night.

I was relieved to hear the front door open then the key being turned in the lock in the small hours of Saturday morning. Boy Child was home safely. Now I could disengage “anxious mummy” mode and get some sleep. After all, he still is and probably always will be my baby boy.

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Bank Holiday Monday – a household chore that nobody wants to tackle

Bank Holiday Monday – oh what to do?

Yes, there’s the usual list of chores that could be done, the compulsory trip to the nearest DIY superstore or a venture to the local garden centre.

It would be nice to go out for a leisurely family lunch. ( A girl can but dream)

If the sun stays out, I could venture out later, camera in hand,

If the rain comes on, there’s one task that should be undertaken.

This is a task that any of the four of us who live in this house could do. We all know and agree that it needs to be done. Once it has been done, we will all benefit from its completion.

Will it get done today?…….well, the day is young……but I’m making no rash promises here!

So what is this dreaded chore that desperately requires attention?

The family CD collection needs to be put into alphabetical order. (The DVDs and Blu Rays are already done- the books are a lost cause!)

Considering the amount of music played in this household, there’s not an unmanageable amount to sort out.

In the dim and distant past, when we only had about 50 CDs, they were all neatly stacked in a small black storage unit from Argos and were in strict alphabetical order.

Then two things – well three technically – happened.

We had children, both of whom loved to tip the CDs all over the living room floor as toddlers.

And we bought more music so the original storage unit rapidly became too small.

The end result is, that over a lengthy period of time, law and order has long since vanished from the family music collection. I hasten to add, my treasured box of vinyl is in perfect alphabetical order.

Bearing in mind the diverse musical tastes of the household, if you randomly select a CD, Lord knows what you may find in your hands.

When attempting to agree on which CD should provide the background music over dinner, we’ve resorted on many occasions to selections such as “middle shelf, second column from the right, six discs down.”. Then you pray it doesn’t result in the soundtrack from High School Musical or Bob The Builder.

Suffice to say, there’s an eclectic mix lurking on those shelves.

We also have a size issue to consider when one of us finally gets around to restoring law and order. Some albums have come in presentation boxes of non-standard size. Others are CD/DVD combinations in boxes of a non-standard width. There’s some in cardboard gatefold sleeves. And don’t get me started about the number with cracked and broken boxes!

Throw in the countless Now CD’s that will require numerical sorting too, is it any wonder that no one wants to tackle this labour of love?

Well, I suppose I should stop procrastinating and bite the bullet and get on with it.

 Oh wait! I’ve just remembered I need to go to garden centre as a matter of urgency to purchase some plants for the patio!

I guess the CDs can wait a while longer….

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Stronger Within —-the dream’s come true!

Well, the day is finally here! The wait is over!

(My hands are trembling a little with nervous excitement as I write this.)

Book Baby has been born!

StrongerWithin_Cover3_SmallFile

Stronger Within, my debut novel (eek!) is live in the Kindle Store on Amazon for the all the world to see. (Takes deep breath…..)

Actually seeing it on there, with my name and a price tag beside it, has stirred a plethora of emotions within me – a bit like childbirth does, to continue with that analogy.

The last few days have been an emotional rollercoaster. Despite my best laid plans – I had the whole week off work to complete the final edit and preparations – Mother Nature threw a spanner in the works. For the first time in almost twenty years, I was ill and spent two days in bed and another under a blanket on the couch – flu! It cost me three precious days of calm, organised preparation time. Easter Monday was a write off too as I spent most of it in floods of tears, mourning the loss of my beloved white cat, Gandalf. One of the toughest days of my life but at least he’s not suffering anymore.

By Tuesday I felt semi-human again and, four days later than planned, the final edit began.

This final spelling, grammar and punctuation check truly was a long, laborious process (yes- pain relief and Lemsips were required – no natural birth for Book Baby I’m afraid!) Finally with one almighty push, I had my completed word document.

It was stark naked but Stronger Within was ready to be uploaded onto my Kindle Direct Publishing account.

This proved a little tricky and fiddly. It was a bit like trying to wrestle a baby into an all-in-one sleep suit. Bits kept wriggling free! Some of the legal disclaimer page didn’t sit quite right. Some of the title fonts were too big. My author’s note and biography pages (the two hardest bits to write, by the way) also tried to escape. However, like all new mothers, I persevered and soon had it all snuggly dressed.

I sat in the kitchen, on my own, music blaring as usual, staring at the screen before reaching out to hit submit.

There were no fanfares. No fireworks. No party streamers. No champagne corks flying.

Just me, a half-drunk glass of Lucozade and Myles Kennedy singing in the background.

I’d done it! I’d really done it!

Book Baby had become Stronger Within.

The four handwritten A4 notebooks had been transformed into a Kindle e-book.

Even now, several days later, it’s still not quite sunk in.

As a child, I was always scribbling stories in notebooks, seldom finishing any of them.

As a teenager, writing was my escape from the bullying I was subjected to in school. Most lunch hours were spent huddled in a quiet corner, safely lost in my own creative bubble.

Marriage and children came along and for years I never wrote at all. I still kept my diary but that was about it until five or six years ago. I found myself with an hour and a half to myself once a week while Girl Child was at dance class. While she pirouetted and tapped upstairs, I sat in the local theatre’s café writing poetry. It was a start.

Almost two years ago I couldn’t keep the characters in my imagination quiet any longer and, in true Coral fashion, bought a new A4 notebook and a new pen and began to write. The end result is Stronger Within.

Some of you are possibly wondering – “Why launch a book on a Wednesday?”

The 15th April was chosen as Book Baby’s birthday a few months ago. It’s a date that means a lot to me personally. It was my Wee Gran’s birthday (she would have been 113 today if she was still with us). She discovered the joy of reading late in life. Like most of us, she began with Enid Blyton. The only difference was that she was in her late seventies at the time! My mum suggested that she join the local library and my Wee Gran soon developed a love of a good doctor/nurse romance. I wonder what she would have made of Stronger Within?

There’s a second reason for choosing the 15th April. Twenty one years ago today the Big Green Gummi Bear asked me to marry him. Yes, I’m a romantic fool at heart!

So what’s next?

Well, there’s no rest for the wicked! I’m planning to spend the next few weeks writing, promoting Stronger Within and trying to re-charge my batteries then I’ll start typing up Book Baby 2. It’s already written (well the first draft is) and fills another four A4 notebooks.

None of this would have been possible without the support and encouragement of my “infamous five” alpha readers. (Have you each worked out who the other four are yet?) Without their love and friendship, Stronger Within would still just be a story in four notebooks in a box under my kitchen table. Thank you just doesn’t seem enough here.

A huge thank you to my beta readers who arrived like the cavalry a few weeks ago to read over the final drafts.

To my artist friend who gifted me the Celtic dragon design – thank you from the bottom of my heart. It’s perfect.

And a final thank you to my “writing fairy godmother” for waving her Photoshop magic wand for me!

So all that’s left to say is make yourself a coffee or pour a glass of wine, sit back, relax and enjoy Stronger Within.

Love and hugs to you all

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Stronger-Within-Silver-Lake-Book-ebook/dp/B00VXDSC1M/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1428994193&sr=8-1&keywords=stronger+within

Drookit But Still Smiling

Anyone who follows my activities can probably guess what’s coming next…..

Rock Mum was out to play again last night.

After a mad dash home from the Salt Mine, a quick change of clothes and a much needed bacon sandwich, I rushed off to catch the 5:25 train to Glasgow, ably chaperoned by Boy Child.

Our destination this time was the O2 Academy in Glasgow. (Boy Child’s favourite venue) We were off to see Rival Sons.

The only drawback – the weather. It was pouring with rain, there was an icy wind howling and it was Baltic! Just how far did we Spring forward when the clocks changed last weekend? To Winter? Brrr

For once even Boy Child had dressed for the elements – confirmation of just how awful it was if the teenager was feeling it!

As we stood outside the venue in the growing but shivering, damp queue (no coffee shops next to the venue so no caffeine fix- BOO!) I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of an evening we were in for.

We’d seen Rival Sons back in December and much as I’d loved their set, there was something not quite right about it. Don’t get me wrong, they were brilliant but that little je ne sais quoi was missing.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved to see a venue’s doors open so we could scurry in out of the rain.

Dripping, we stopped off at the merchandise stall to purchase the obligatory t-shirts. Moral victory- we managed to agree on two different designs so no mother/son t-shirt clash to mark this occasion. I also treated myself to a canvas tote bag. (Beats paying 5p a bag in the shops and it’s small enough to fold up and fit in the back pocket of my tardis-like handbag.) Result all round!

There is only one spot to stand at a Rival Sons show – especially if you are with Boy Child. Right in front of Scott Holiday. We found ourselves among the same group of die-hards that we had been beside back in December. See we’re not the only looney tunes happy to see these guys again so soon.

Much to my surprise there was only one support act lined up for the show, New York duo, The London Souls. I’ll be honest – I’d never heard of them. This two piece band, comprising of guitar and drums, transported the Glasgow crowd back in time by about forty five years and played a short but solid soulful set, heavily influence by 1960’s/70’s icons. Worth checking this band out when their debut album is released later this year.

The intro tape played the theme from The Good The Bad and The Ugly. As it rang out over the expectant fans, Rival Sons appeared out on stage.

Glasgow was in for a treat! The boys from California were all dressed in kilts. While frontman Jay Buchanan had gone for a more traditional look, guitarist Scott Holiday was rocking his pointed toe boots and leather jacket with his black kilt. Hot Hot Hot

Their set started with the incredible Electric Man and over the next ninety odd minutes they powered their way through a further seventeen songs, including a short five song acoustic set in the middle of proceedings.

Cue clothing issue as Scott Holiday realised the fans on the rail were seeing a bit more of him than usual when he sat down to play. Thank God he’s not a true Scot!

Highlight of the night for me was their performance of Where I’ve Been. I LOVE that song!

This time the whole set shone- sparkled even. I realised what had been missing from December – smiles.

All of them looked more relaxed and seemed to be genuinely enjoying playing this iconic art deco venue. There was even a hint of mischief from Jay Buchanan as he flicked up the back of Scott Holiday’s kilt during the encore.

It was a joy to see them having fun.

When we emerged into the dark, I  was relieved to find that the rain had eased up. After a short sprint towards the station, with a brief pit stop at KFC (Boy Child was hungry) we boarded the train home. Both of us tired but happy.

We may not have done the mother/son t-shirt thing but it was a cracking mother/son night out.

As Boy Child prepares to leave high school and move on to university, I can’t help but wonder how many more gigs will he will be content to enjoy with his Rock Mum?

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