Relaxing in the comfort of our hotel room in the heart of Empire. I seem to recall from some remote little used part of my memory banks that Trafalgar Square was considered to be such. I may be wrong. It matters not.
Outside the window two maple leaf flags flutter above the entrance to Canada House. Quite cold out there. I sense. I brought my down lined parka for this trip. Comfort over style.
We are warm and cosy inside and are planning on meeting some pals for a drink at around 5pm. Heading to The Victoria in Dalston later for the Pylons gig. Will be a goodun if you are in town.
Ciao amigos. Hasta la vista (or something like that)
…
The hotel room is triple glazed and seemingly very effective. Winter coats, visible on the street below, stride purposefully by. Tourists remain but difficult to determine their point of origin. Few foreign visitors I expect.
I feel that this afternoon might be the opportunity for me to indulge in a cream cake. Lunch is not on the cards as we breakfasted late. As for tonight I have ordered 150 Caribbean meals. Washed down by gallons of grog and rum drunk out of tankards and coconut shells. Not going to eat 150 meals myself obvs. There is enough to go around. After much deliberation we arrived at Trinidad curried chicken, especially for Shannon, jerk chicken, jerk pork shoulder, jerk sweet potato and black bean curry all served with rice and peas and roti flatbreads. Followed by that ole favourite pudin de pan with coconut sugar caramelized plantains. Standard pirate fare. And birthday cake if anyone still has room. Sa nice cake.
So got to keep some space for all that. Can always fit in a cream cake though. It is a law of nature.
…
Another successful trefbash. The thunder of the confetti cannons has faded and the last of the streamers have been swept away. Partygoers have left the city for the provinces that most of them call home – the peace of the shires and a slower, more survivable pace of life.
Our train is quite full and someone is sitting in my seat. No seat reservations have been displayed. She was very disgruntled when I suggested to her she might want to move to the window seat so that I could occupy my booked place. We found an unoccupied table further down the compartment and left her to bathe in her own grumpiness.
We have another party to attend tonight and that is then that until Thursday’s sold out Rills Engine Shed gig. This coming week will be one for getting things done before the holiday season proper. Trefbash is the starting gun for the party season but the return of the tribe to the mothership is the real start of Christmas.
Amongst the many highlights of trefbash60 was the consumption of 152 pornstar martinis. Not sure I’ve ever had a pornstar martini but one assumes that they must have been quite acceptable for the pirate community to have downed that many. The modern pirate equivalent of grog or rum.
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It is a warm and cosy Sunday morning. I am back in the shed to avoid the sound of the vacuum cleaner that is disturbing the peace of the Sabbath. My great great great great grandfather the Reverend Daniel Davies was excommunicated from his church the Penybont Baptist Chapel in Llandysul for allowing one of his farm workers to work in the fields on a Sunday. The church relented after a few years and let him back in but had they found out that Mrs Davies was also hoovering that morning it might have been a step too far.
It is a bright and sunny morning out there and despite having taken temporary sanctuary in the shed, not being of a religious persuasion I am free to tick one or two jobs off the list. One of them is to get the pork casserole ready for this evening. A long slow cook is the order of the day and it gives me the opportunity to use up a can of the cider we have in the garage.
The second job is to get the Christmas decorations down from the high up shelves in the garage. This is not one man job but as Anne is operating the aforementioned random noise generator she is unavailable to stand at the bottom of the ladder to receive the boxes.
My other job today is all the thank yous that are the fall out from my birthday celebrations. The card givers, the sponsors who make trefbash possible every year. The revellers should consider this as a thank you for coming along and helping me celebrate.
I do find it surreal that trefbash exists. I was going to make trefbash60 the last but the positive sentiment for the party has been so great that I feel it would be letting people down if I stopped now. Considering the covid headwinds it was amazing that we could collectively pull the event off.
For a brief moment life will fall back into a semblance of normality. I do have to ask what is normal? A cup of tea and toast for breakfast? Gazing out of the window wondering when I will get around to clearing the rest of the leaves off the lawn. That’s an easy one. Green Thumb are coming tomorrow and before they apply any treatment they will have to blow the leaves away. That’s sorted then.
Christmas is coming hard on the rails and tomorrow our first offspring returns from London for the duration.