Monthly Mouse Hunts Without Mice

New York NewYork

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Monthly Mouse Hunts by moonlight.

The cat disappeared for most of last night. We were in late having been at a John Byrne talk-in (John talked, we listened, Ali dozed, John talked more and a few slides of his art work appeared out of order as some kind of disconnected backdrop). We collected a Chinese carry out on the way home, ate it whilst phoning around and sitting through the vacuum that is the 9 to 10 spot on TV. The cat returned at 3am. It made me wonder whether cats have any concept of day and night or even inside and outside. They really don’t seem to care about either. Staying tense, hunting and sleeping are their main occupations. So why has Tutti Frutti never appeared on DVD or video? An ideal dad’s Chrissy present if ever there was one. Come back Big Jazza and the Majestics.

Random kinds of Actress.

Tilda Swinton (the wife of John Byrne) is playing the Snow Queen in the Lion, the Witch etc. How do you get a gig like that? I saw her daughter also last night, a dead ringer for her mum and a lot better looking than her dad. The feisty, red haired, misty and wonderful painting JB did of Tilda is however one of our favourites.

New York.

The credit card bill for the NY extravaganza arrived, what on earth did I buy at the Museum of Modern Art that cost £89 and how come I only bought £13 worth of chocolate at the Hershey’s shop in Time Square? As for the helicopter flight…

Finavon Doocot, Fife and paths of glory.

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Finavon Doocot, Fife and paths of glory.

A weekend mixed up between family, fun and downright hardwork. Saturday saw us journeying up to the world’s end (as it seems) - Macduff in Moray. The waves crash incessantly on it’s permanently twilight shores, as a rolling thunder review of cloud antics pepper a grim and moody sky – oh and you can visit the Spotty Bag shop in Banff that sells just about everything and nothing. En-route we passed the legendary Finavon Doocot, resting place and mausoleum to the gifted but tragic Deke, the George Best of pigeon racing so brilliantly immortalised by Scott Renton. A moments silence followed for us all, Nintendo DS’s quite, KT Tunstill paused and the Financial Times shaken to the floor of our speeding car as we thought of both George and Deke.

The 1st birthday party of my first grandson followed, a fun but chaotic affair. Small children and assorted parents everywhere, presents, paper, party bags and a blinding array of video and digital cameras. Both my grandsons were there and in fine form, a third grandchild is on the way also (still in the early stages of production). We had a fascinating conversation with a friend of my son who manages the local football team. He was telling us that one team member has recently purchased a tattoo gun and now needs to practice a) on himself and b) on volunteers. You would have thought that tattoo guinea pigs would be hard to come by, but not up there in Moray. The younger lads (?) seem especially keen to have a (improving each time) version of the team crest cut into their legs (for life). I naively thought also that to be able to draw might be a pre-requisite of the fledgling tattoo artist but no, none of that. A steady hand, good enough to follow a template or stencil and the ability to pump the ink with your right foot at the same time is all you need. The ability to run quickly or own a fast car might also be useful. The unbelievable news that Dunfermline had beaten Celtic at Parkhead also filtered in during the afternoon; at 16 to 1 I wished I’d stuck a few quid on them.

We returned home late in the evening – more heavy rain and (as the road signs kept saying) extreme weather followed us. We did have a good game of “10 minutes from Fife” in the car. The game starts at Kinross just as you enter Fife; you have to imagine Fife is going to explode in 10 minutes so you have to be out of it by then i.e. half way across the Forth Bridge. An unexpected amount of roadworks at Inverkeithing meant we blew up in a violent, fiery mass just before the bridge.

Back for overdone pizza, wine and “I’m a celeb” for the kids. I slept like a smouldering log.

Sunday started with a late breakfast and ended with me making daal and vegetable soup. In between Ali and I constructed a new path at the front of the house and erected a bird feeder. The path looks great, I’d expected it to take two days to lay and we did it in an afternoon, how smug we both felt.

We also got a feedback email from the judges at the Emergenza gig a few weeks ago. It was all pretty good and constructive, they liked our songs, said we needed a drummer (hmmm…) and few other little details. Even if it was all bull it made me happy, (despite the dodgy Sunday gig the other OOTBer’s described) our Thursday night experience now seems to have been worthwhile. Having said that I may have beer glasses on a the moment and they could be affecting my mind and body…



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Fire and Mouse Hunts

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Monthly mouse Hunt #2

Less ice this morning, this means that the previously frozen tundra that makes up the car parking area has turned back to plain mud. A simple turn of the steering wheel is enough to create a ploughed field effect and a series of tsunami mud waves under the car. This mud should be packaged and sold as glue as it sticks to all it touches, cars, shoes, houses, fluffy white slippers, rugs and carpets and so on. The solution is simple: buy a big builder's size bag of bottoming stones and then, with the appropriate physical effort spread them to cover forever the November Somme like surface. Must get round to it..

Our oil supply is running low. Oil, once hidden in a tank is hard to measure if there is no dipstick. We are supposed to check the level by viewing it through an opaque tube that is discoloured, dirty and frozen. In the end a wild guess is made and we decide the oil is indeed running low, so Ali phones the oil company. The oil is used to heat the boiler and so is the coal fire (different boiler). These dual systems seem to dislike one another and despite their ability to produce heat cannot easily coexist without conflict. This seems to defy a few of the laws of physics. The oil system needs to be on when the fire is on so the pump will run and power the hot water round the pipes. However the oil boiler stays on when the coal fire is on still burning up fuel as vigorously as the coal fire. Then after a short time a strange fossil fuelled climax occurs, the pipes and water tanks vibrate violently and then spew a torrent of hot water out onto the patio from a pipe in the roof conveniently located directly above a security light and our garden furniture. Of course for this to happen the fire has to be alight. My technique for fire lighting is clumsy. Paper, sticks, firelighters, coal and the occasional log are placed in the fireplace. You would think that a lighted match applied to this incendiary heap would produce a roaring fire in no time. Well no, you get smoke, flash, red glow, smoke and then a serene stillness descends on these defiant materials as they refuse to burn. Few things make you feel less manly than being unable to light a decent fire – I stare at cold black coal and dream of sharpening pencils with my Swiss Army knife.

We are also planning a tree management expedition, to be set in the small bit of woodland north of the house. The main idea is that a few inconveniently growing trees will be removed with a few swift axe blows in order to give us a clearer view of the silvery Forth. There are some snags, firstly the trees are on the wrong side of a wall (six foot drop), they are wild with surrounding vegetation and there is mud and no doubt some animal life hidden in this tiny jungle. The trees also belong to someone else, not us, never good. Of course we don’t propose to fell any of the giants of the forest, we only want to carry out some simple pruning of otherwise untended braches and growths so that we may honestly adjust the viewing gaps between these trees. On an earlier expedition I did succeed, without specialist tools and using brute force only, in snapping of a few annoying branches. The more radical surgery will have to wait until the time is right, maybe some moon lit night or Sunday afternoon – preferably when the wood can be seen for the trees..

Recycling is complicated. Waste streams are not obvious; they do not flow in straight lines. Paper, light cardboard and magazines can be mixed but not with envelopes (?) Is somebody taking the piss? What are modern envelopes made of? Is it the glue, the sticky glue substitute, the ink? What can the problem be? If this country is ever to embrace any serious recycling work then envelopes must be included amongst normal waste paper.

An unbelievable headline in the redtops: “Garry Glitter faces a firing squad” - if only it was for musical crimes and not the sad reality of his unhealthy appetites. So it set me thinking about appropriate punishments for music crimes: “A hung, drawn and quartered farewell planned for Stock, Aitken and Waterman", “Roasted on a spit verdict for Katie Melua (and Mike Batt for that bicycle song), “Ten years in Barlinnie for Axl Rose” (for everything), “Bono sentenced to 140 hours of community service” (for nothing in particular), “Enya fined fifty quid” (I don’t need to explain).

Somerfield till receipts: “Your manger is, you were served by, you saved £3.49 (because you got a free battery). The date, the time, the phone number of the store are all there, why?

Monthly Mouse Hunt

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Monthly Mouse Hunt.

Country life is full of surprises. Living close to a Blair Witch wood, a pond, a happy hunting ground and a dog-walking track, the local wildlife of all sorts enjoys a cosy, claustrophobic and unpredictable relationship with us.

Last week the cat woke us a five by making a peculiar tapping sound on the bedroom floor, about two feet from my head. The tapping sound was made by the rhythmic tossing of a mouse against the laminate floor. That was followed by the cracking and crunching noises he made as he devoured it under the bed. In circumstances like this the hair drier comes into it’s own. This weapon of mass cat annoyance was very effectively used to get the cat and his mouse meal out of the house. So far it has been three mice in as many days. The cat is on a roll.

I was wondering if those scientists who are speculating about life on the Blue Moon (Earth’s fictional but likely twin) had thought about eating any of the creatures they had invented. A Blue Moon cookbook might go down well (?). Science Fiction dining and gastronomy: “Skywhale pie, skywhale fillets, skywhale risotto”. Probably best not explored.

On Sunday I was a true gentleman of the road however, managing to warn on coming vehicles of two horses meandering up our road towards a blind summit. All the smiles and waves of gratitude made the effort worthwhile. People do generally slow down for horses. It was a day of mixed fortune as this happened just after the bathroom cabinet fell on Ali’s head trapping her in the room while I chattered on the phone blissfully unaware. Her plaintive cries eventually made it down the corridor and I mounted a full scale rescue operation. A large gin was required to ease the pain. We also found the abandoned mouse nest on Sunday afternoon, obviously belonging to the now digested 5am visitor. The mouse nest was under the fridge and seemed to be in the early stages of construction, our vigilance and respect towards visiting rodents and their creativity is now set at a higher level.

The rabbits in the garden are of course oblivious to everything apart from their own determined eating. Each night they set of the security lights and bask in a floodlit arena of green as they munch their way across what we hope one day will be a lawn. The cat peers at them out of the window and flicks his tail in a kind of concentrated and focused way we assume reflects his thoughts of hunting. So far no rabbits have arrived at the door, unlike at Inchgarvie where a steady stream of rabbits fell victim of our little tiger.

Today I nearly got an Alsatian (and owner) as a result of a half iced windscreen, a murky lane and a slight hangover. I’ll try to do better tomorrow.

The pheasants are just plain stupid and have no road sense or sense of their own mortality; they get hunted by the folks from the estate. We think that hunter’s are out tonight (Ali heard a pheasant impersonator in the hedge) so the cat was brought in early. As Erin had brought her tame but wild rabbit around it was important to keep them in separate rooms, not easy. The rabbit liked the cat’s bed; the cat remained imprisoned in the kitchen munching his tea from an ashtray. The rabbit was surprisingly agile and liked to jump onto the couch and eat portions of one of Ali’s suits or a cushion. It also hid under the TV and enjoyed being rolled up in the cat’s blanket. I accidentally dropped it into its food dish after it had scratched me, after that it seemed to avoid me and did a lot less jumping. She (Pippa) has returned home to her warm hutch and some more Marks and Spenser sliced cabbage, a particular favourite I am told.

So getting back to where I started a monthly mouse hunt looks like being the new thing – for next month.

Sorry about the lack..

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Apologies to all regular visitors to this blog (and our other web ventures) about the lack of new material here or there. We are having huge problems getting broadband set up at our new address. Hard to believe that the provision of BB could be so tricky and that our BB host cares so little...but that's how it is. Even our dial up option is flakey...moan, moan!

Please don't abandon us! The creative juices are still flowing, infact I've just written a tune for Mazda, though they don't know about it yet.

Apples and Currents

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Apple to the core

Took a few days away from work
Ended up on the sidewalks of New York
Looking out upon the Empire State
New Jersey seems so cold and grey
Had some coffee and some toast in Saks
Froze on a bus but tried to relax
Buy a bagel pay 8% local tax
Eat a breakfast and some fast food snacks
Helicopter squeeze and an Indian hood
Something in the heart of this city is good
Something in the people misunderstood.

Here’s the spot where Lennon was shot
Bob Dylan walked there and some say even talked
The Algonquin’s toilets are so clean and small
The biggest thrill is seeing and feeling it all.

The Apollo theatre and the Fifty cents
The ladies big hats and the Frankincense
Donald Trump never looked so attractive
Time Warner stays so interactive
Ground Zero means zero ground
What goes around can confound
In the neon and the aftermath
In the traffic and the ghetto blast.

We sit in some executive lounge
Drinking wine and sucking crackers
We stay in where the coins and corners are round
And move when the tannoy tells us
We all try to be like Elvis
Be as big as Elvis
They want to buy and sell us.
In some hotel or parking lot
The elevator that time forgot
A TV memory is all we’ve got.

Current situation.

Moved to the country
But BT and Wandoo don’t want to hear
We’ve had a month of disconnection
Blogs and websites get no attention
So we put up curtains and shelves (and build)
And settle in this place we've hid
And try to kid ourselves we might be kids
And have a party and big sleepover
And then some fish pie and a huge hangover.

News Update!

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News Update!

Impossible Songs – Emergenza Acoustic Showcase 10th November

Impossible songs will be playing a 25 minute set at The Jazz Bar, Chambers Street, Edinburgh at 7.30 on the 10th November, (also on the bill is the powerful acoustic legend Lee Paterson). Other acts will also be featured in what will be a great night of varied acoustic styles of music – don’t miss it.

Tickets are available from us, at the reduced rate of £4.00. Contact is@songs.fsworld.co.uk and we’ll do the rest.

John & Ali

Arts festival over...

The South Queensferry Arts Festival 2005 is over as of this afternoon. I spent a (fairly) quiet afternoon in the Priory Arts Centre, chatting to visitors, tidying up, searching for keys, and playing selections of OOTB tracks from the “Out of Bounds” compilation to unsuspecting punters. Tracks that seemed to work best in the large and echoey space were:

Lindsay West – Newcastle
Meursault – A small stretch of land
Colin Donati – Klingons
Impossible Songs – Rainy Friday
Big Jim – I found love
The Clevelands – Miles of clear
Jill Hepburn – Groovy enough for two
Lisa Paton – Here come the Vampires
Lindsay Sudgen – My disgrace
CBQ – Very small
Norman Lamont – Anywhere but here.

Popular Artworks (based on my observations):

Alison Hutton – Evolution
Fiona Graham – numerous small and interesting pieces (wire & paper)
Mike Spring – Spanner Man
Carrie Thomas – Worlds


There were many events running throughout the week, film, music, walks, displays and exhibitions – I’m looking forward to next year. It will be bigger and better.

I enjoyed Saturday the 10th the best: Tommy Mackay, Norman Lamont and the Innocents and impossible songs played in an unusual evening of music and (short) art films. The mixed media idea is great – the films and our eclectic music and differing styles really worked well.

Songs we played were:

That’s my baby
All the vows
How I hate
I miss that boy
Happy like
Rainy Friday
She’s a waitress
Twin song

The hugely talented Nelson Wright (from Flowers for Algernon) joined us on djembe and the hugely prolific (songwriter & sound scapemeister) Norman Lamont played bass on a couple of songs. Dave O’Hara twiddled the knobs and made it sound good and did some early Christmas shopping.

Highlights? Tommy’s “Zoinks! a tenner”, easily the best first line of any song and of course the “Rock critic who swallowed McFly”. Norman’s “Callback/Fallback” and “Ballad of Bob Dylan”. Impossible songs? Well I like battering out “how I hate” and the wah wah on “Twin song” and Ali’s vocals on “I miss that boy” are pretty spine tingling. Next time who knows what?

Of course there would be no festival without the hard work and commitment of Gary Smith at Common Ground Arts (and the rest of the committee). Contact Gary at commongroundarts@onetel.com

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You were in the gallery

You were in the gallery

I brought you a cup of tea

In the SETI Institute thermal mug

Not many customers had turned up.


We are here today, brushing the leaves.

Sweeping the silence, that I still believe

You came home with cakes

And hot chicken and bran flakes.


Heating up food and cooling it down

Saturday rain, Sunday comes round.


We do family duties,

We love so far and wide

We plan our time

We delete all the cookies

Sniggering at the angels in the snow

Turning round to see how far to go.


I’ll be standing in the gallery

Will you bring warm coffee to me?

In the friendly mug of your choosing

Through this space that we are using.

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outside

Outside there is the sea and ground
There are lots of things that can be found
There is the sun and moon that make day and night
And big fat spiders that give me a fright
There are birds that fly in the sky
And chocolate and sweets and blueberry pies
There are animals that live on the ground
Doing what they do as the world spins round
Houses and farms as you’ll see
Bushes and very tall trees
There are boats and cars
That takes you quite far
Cats and dogs we keep as pets
And when they’re ill we take them to the vets.

By Olivia

(Probably inspired by the view across Fife and the River Forth, as seen from Inchgarvie House)

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my space

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Impossible songs have opened up a small gold and butterfly mining operation on a tiny plot of cyber-land somewhere floating out on a miles away cloudy cyber-sea. We call it our little fluffy, toughy, cool and considerate, musical and mystical, heretical and political, fanatical and fantastic space.

As Jimi Hendrix once said “It’s very far away, takes about a half a day to get there, if we travel by my dragonfly, no it’s not in Spain, but just the same you know it’s a groovy name, and the wind’s just right…”

The space is www.myspace.com/impossiblesongs

Interesting places..

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Interesting places where you sometimes find yourself #1

In this particular case a church in the lovely village of South Queensferry. This is where much of the South Queensferry Arts Festival will take place. All sorts of events are on offer, music, exhibitions, films, family activities; dance etc. www.normanlamont.com has much more detail. It is likely most events will be free or pretty close. We’re on from 0730 on Saturday the 10th along with Norman L and Tommy M – the first ever SQ Songwriter’s Concert in the venue pictured above. The start of something…

Lots of (well a few) pubs, decent restaurants etc. A grand day out (if the weather’s fine).

So back to interesting places where you sometimes find yourself, churches, bus stops, in a queue at a supermarket, waiting on service in a bar, at the traffic lights, in the shower, standing beside a tree, tripping over a fallen bicycle, walking through leaves, Leith, the top of the Eiffel Tower, asleep in bed, asleep on a bench, Newton, the fast lane, in a shed, locked out, in fog, in a rowing boat, Disneyland, at a Todd Rundgren concert, staring into a CD player, at the waste bins, charity shop, OOTB, a drive-thru, under a conker tree, cat’s home, hospital, Pictish village, a stranger’s house, a tent, a duty free shop that isn’t one anymore, beside a pie van…zzzzzzz

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Impossible stuff - South Queensferry Arts

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From the top : Birthday Balloon, Yellow , Alba Iron II, Alba Hardware 1.

These and more will be on view at the South Queensferry Arts Festival from 9th Sept.

For a full catalogue of "impossible stuff " please use the email/comment facility.

South Queensferry Arts Festival

Impossibles in the Dark - Photo by Big Jim.

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Impossible Songs will be playing in the South Queensferry Arts Festival: Saturday 10th September at 7.30pm in St Mary’s Hall. It promises to be a good night of varied music and styles as also playing are Tommy Mackay and Norman Lamont & the Innocents. Three short films are included in the evening’s programme, art works will be on display and wine (hospitality?) is on tap. PA is by OOTB, hopefully manned by the ubiquitous David O’Hara.

The Arts Festival runs for a week and we are participating in this “songwriters concert” and in the Arts Exhibition at St Mary's. A number of our pieces will be exhibited and up for sale. More details to follow...

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My kids think I look like this dog.

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Some kind of an unkind pug of a dog of a beanie baby of a freak-show of a Chinese toy in a plastic bag with a plastic tag and a cold black nose and funny eyes and a tiny body and squashed in face that was in a Happy Meal of chicken strips, carrot pieces served with a vanilla shake and bought at the South Queensferry Drive-through on 3rd September at 1435 - and it looks like me they say...

Is this better than the Virgin Mary's image on toast? Jesus in a pizza crust? Winston Churchill in a maternity wing? John Lennon on the head of a pin? Gerry Garcia on a T-shirt? Or even the shadow of a street lamp on Mars?

The dog is called "Pug".

Live at Lamb's

Photo by Norman Lamont - Sunday 21st August.
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Impossible songs playing live at Leith as our part of the OOTB "out of bounds" Fringe week.

We are having a serious amount of fun and hearing a great deal of good music with well over 30 Scottish and international acts playing original music every night this week. If you can please join us at Venue 237. www.outofthebedroom.co.uk has all the details.

If you can't manage down ask us about the double CD "out of bounds" that is currently on sale and features many of the OOTB acts.

More Saturday stuff and Leith again

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Spent the afternoon in Leith preparing for OOTB “Out of Bounds” as our part of the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. Lamb’s House looking a lot better than I’d expected. Everybody has done a fantastic job so far – let’s hope the shows are well attended. Lunch in a small café nearby with Ali, Joe, Liv and Tommy Mack before Ali & Tom went of to distribute fliers. We returned to SQ to chill out (on the East Coast) (www.theg.co.uk) and watch two Harry Potter DVDs. Ok so far..

www.outofthebedroom.co.uk has all the info about the Lamb's House gigs and open spots - every night from 9.00 pm.

A house is not an excuse

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A house is not a home nor is it an igloo or a sandwich: We have a new place! Next month farewell to our beloved Inchgarvie (after 3 years – see the cool painting) and hello to the run-down but spacious Upper Parkhead. Lots of work to do but we hope to have fun and make this exciting new piece of living space as warm, welcoming and inspiring as we can. Extra rooms (of all shapes and sizes) will certainly help, open fire, oddly smelling but large kitchen, utility room, big garden, two loos, two showers and a bath, a mysterious pond in the woods, a garage and large parking area. In the hot weather the house looked very impressive despite needing obvious TLC.

Late Leithstock Stuff

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Leithstock, later than planned, a few of the few pictures I took before my phone / camera froze, Tommy Mackay, Scott Renton, Norman Lamont all in some kind of action.

Leithstock - late incoming pics from CBQ

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In a cumming piece of blog piracy I've taken this rather artistic little montage from http://crispycat.co.uk (that'll lead you to the CBQ blog). This is only because my phone froze (and Ali and I are in few of the pics).