Wednesday, 14 September 2011
I was 7 years old when Marc Bolan died.
I don't remember much about it as Elvis had died a month earlier and my Mum was so devastated there was little room for much else upset.
When I was about 12, around the time I started to develop a crush on Adam Ant, my Mum suggested I listen to some T-Rex - it was a men-in-make-up-thing.
Without the internet and music channels, I didn't really see Marc Bolan perform so I mostly listened and read biographies.
Time passed and Marc Bolan had slipped my mind until I heard that our local theatre had written and produced 20th Century Boy.
My husband and I loathe the back catalogues of pop stars being turned into musicals, having been traumatised by Tonight's The Night and some paper sailors hats.
So there we were, slightly cautious, sitting in the theatre with my Mum and step-father. The lights went down, the play started and then 'T-Rex' came out on the stage.
I was hit by an over-whelming surge of emotion which didn't seem to leave until the lights came back up almost three hours later.
It's a great play - really great - and the acting is incredible. By the end it felt as though we were at a rock concert, everyone was up dancing and cheering. I was even waiting for an encore.
After three glasses of red wine on an empty stomach, I told the chap who played Marc Bolan how amazing he was, more than once. I think I even told him I wanted to kiss his shoes - is that what you do to rock stars?
Poor lad is 21......
Oh the shame.
Thursday, 8 September 2011
This photo was taken at Felixstowe on Saturday. You wouldn't believe how blue, sunny and warm it was when 24 hours later it was cold and gloomy.
Scarlett learned to fly a kite and the importance of holding on to it - even when you fall over.
In a week, we had a cold afternoon on Thorpeness beach with a friend I hadn't seen for years, a two day stay with a close friend in the sun at Aldwick / Bognor and then the lovely Felixstowe beach hut.
We have the hut this week, our last visit of 2011 no doubt.
Tuesday was my nephew's final day before he started school so we refused to be held indoors by the weather. We marched up the promenade in winds so strong I nearly lost the children. We ate at our favourite restaurant and then we returned to the beach and ran around in the sand.
I'd like to say we all slept well that night but Scarlett was woken by a failing nappy and a wet bed at 2.30am and didn't get back to sleep until nearly 5.
Wednesday's trip to the beach hut then was all about me drinking black coffee and trying to pull myself together.
Back tomorrow ....