First up, Wolverhampton market. Only ten minutes down the road. I'm cooking tonight, so I'll get some nice stuff. As much as I hate sounding all PC and sandal wearing, but one of the great things about living in multicultural England is the markets. Half of the stuff they sell I shouldn't know whether to plant it or cook it!
And here's my piano accordion. I'm teaching myself. You're not convinced I'm not wearing sandals. . are you?
Coffee up the Wrekin last week.
And the piano I play weekdays.
And the Wrekin with mist yesterday. Bit crap this one, I've got some better on my proper camera.
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It's 5.45 am. Y'know, it's all very well drinking red wine in Grand Central station watching New Yorkers scurrying about their ways in different directions, like ants from a disturbed nest, wondering about all those people, all those lives and thinking yourself so cosmopolitan.
And it's all very well drinking the pint in deepest Cork, looking out at the heavy rain through heavy lidded eyes, on your first adventure to another country by yourself and there's you being all grown up and yet feeling like a little kid.
But a strong cup of coffee, in your own flat before the day breaks, listening to Tanworth's finest, with a day ahead filled of nothing but music and pleasant stuff? ohh, now there's a thing! to be sure, there's a thing!
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