Thursday 3rd of August, 2000
I'm not actually dead, though. Better luck next time.
Our first gig - a free preview (I should have done that). 15 people in, which is okay, considering the festival doesn't officially begin until next Sunday, but not as many as we had on the same night last year.
I took the bike out for a spin and had my first prang coming down the hill on my way to the soundcheck - an Edinburghian walked straight out in front of me, looking in the opposite direction (so he would have been in considerably greater trouble than me had I been a bus). I just bounced off and landed in the street. He grabbed randomly at my jacket to help me up, saying, "My fault, my fault". How are you supposed to reply to that? Yes, it was your fault. Well done. I'm not actually dead, though. Better luck next time.
Still finding it difficult to get into some of the songs that I know best with Jezza playing. I'm sure I'll get the hang of it.
There now appear to be sofas in the living-room - two of them, facing each other over a coffee table, the kind of arrangement best suited to frosty family meetings (you know, The Parents, The Daughter and The Unsuitable Boyfriend, that sort of thing). Until this morning they were merely obstacles in the hallway, designed to make putting the bikes away just that little bit more challenging.
Went with Dave to Whistlebinkies after the gig, managing to catch the end of the folk session. I like this sort of thing - musicians of not inconsiderable skill who just turn up and play, with very little brouhaha and posturing. Or that's the way it seems to me, anyway.