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Last Days of Summer (but it’s not over yet) – that’s 2 song titles right there!

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It’s T minus 5 days until I go back to work and the childerbeast will be another year higher up the school.
It’ll be the last year of primary education for my big girl. (sob).  I know she is in capable hands though (big-up to the Gene Genie, who is doubtless knitting a set of woollen genitals as we speak, for spring term Sex Ed). 

Bejesus, What was I saying about capable hands???  ;-p

Anyway, that’s sooooo next week.  Let us not get ahead of ourselves.  I have a camping weekend ahead for my one and only (micro) festival this year and past events to review.

Spent a corking few days in Chester, despite not being able to catch up with as many people as I’d have liked – mainly due to work commitments & chronic crapness on all sides.
Did have a lovely lunch at
The Church with Pops, my sis, niece and the childerbeast on Friday.  Pops then got stiffed for 2 pairs of Vans and some baby Doc Martens in Schuh while I had a child-free wander around the shops.

Saturday was the long awaited ‘Little Mix’ gig I got tickets for months ago.  My littlest is a massive fan and was gutted that she missed their show in York while we were in France, so I had to get tickets when I heard they were at the Liverpool International Music Festival (the new version of the Matthew Street Festival).
Of course that meant I had to get tickets for me and for her sister too!  £70 to watch a bunch of pop cheese, most of which I hadn’t heard of (but with added bonus of being able to embarrass the childerbeast with some Mum dancing to JLS
 -“My heart won’t beat again… beat again.. it’s killin’ me..”)

In fairness, I think a bit of comedy singing-along and only going to the booze bus once for a Crabbies Ginger Beer ALL DAY – I think they got off lightly.

Whoohoo!  booze!

Whoohoo! booze!

030        Still curly         032

At least I didn’t get fucked-up drunk like the rest of the cider mamas who were twerking the afternoon away (much to the dismay of their offspring),  or dress my child in identical stereotypical ‘festival wear’ as myself, with matching hairstyles & then purchase contrasting rain ponchos. even though it wasn’t raining….. or anything…

I have no words...

I have no words..

Neither did I get made up like a $20 hooker in what appeared to be a pair of P.E. knickers, a chiffon kaftan & high-heeled ankle boots & show the whole of Merseyside my ringpiece every time I bent down to pick up my bottle of Vodkat or talk to my toddler, so my P.E. keks disappeared up my sphincter! (I just had to look up how to spell sphincter).
No photos of that beautiful sight, as I was rather too close for comfort & after she generously let me see so much of her, so early on in the relationship, I felt that taking a picture would be a tad disrespectful.  She had a tatt on the back of her thigh too which I can only assume read, “
If you can read this, you’re too close”

Crikey love, I can see your tonsils every time you bend down!

All in all, it went on rather too long for me.  If there hadn’t been so many long gaps between bands it could all have been over and done with in under 3 hours.  Instead I was there for 1pm til 9pm and I’m still not convinced that The Vamps aren’t the same as Union J and they had just switched clothes!
Let’s be honest. I was about 30 years too old to even be legally allowed on the premises. 
Doing it for the kids!
    In their own words, it was “Payback” for all the bands they’ve never heard of that I have made them go and see at festivals over the years.

Fair play!


The mixing hour finally came at 7pm and I steeled myself – having promised the childerbeast I would get them as close to the front as I safely could, where they could still see.  I had also tipped them off on what to do if the crowd went nuts and we got separated. (I’ve done this kind of thing before. Lest we forget the accidental ‘Terrorvision’ episode of ’95 and the ‘Pulp’ gig of ’96 or my sister and I braving the big gay ‘splash zone’ of Kylie’s ‘Aphrodite’ tour and we shall say no more about almost getting bumfucked against the barriers during Ian Brown at Parklife!!).

It's mixing time!

It’s mixing time!

Snorky, Fleagal, Bingo & Drooper

Snorky, Fleagal, Bingo & Drooper

I may have tinnitus for a while yet from all the shrieking in my ear and even more recurring back issues from having the little one on my back for the duration but, have to say, it was worth it.  Just to see her so excited and happy for a change (not often that happens TBH!)   Also, in fairness – they could actually sing,  so it wasn’t as unfortunate for an old git like me to listen to as I had feared, especially when they did an homage to their female predecessors and sang, ‘No Scrubs’ by TLC.   A song I frequently sing to my girls, in the hope that subconsciously they will take the advice onboard for future reference. (Hey, just because I was a relationship jackass in my younger days doesn’t mean I can’t try and educate my children otherwise*)

Also worth it to see the older one bouncing about to JLS, despite not (apparently) being a fan. She still managed to sing along to everything they did I noticed!  We moved further back from the stage for JLS though, as I feared for my ear-drums and crazed-teenage-girl-wee staining my maxi!

Melman, Alex, Marty & Gloria

Melman, Alex, Marty & Gloria

As a perfect antidote to the tweenpop, Mum took us to see ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ in Chester Grosvenor Park the next day.  Glorious weather, lovely picnic, excellent performance!   I’d given the childerbeast a brief synopsis of the plot and explained it in the basest of terms as being,  “a little like Hollyoaks but in tights and with posher voices”
  With not one, but two, female, Welsh, Pucks it was, “crackin!” and could have only been more entertaining if Puck had uttered the line;  “Oh! What’s occurring?”

The childerbeast thoroughly enjoyed it too, so to quote another of the Bard’s works…
All’s well that ends well.


"If we shadows have offended, think but this & all is mended"

“If we shadows have offended, think but this & all is mended”

* just to clarify, my own mother gave me plenty of sage advice on men, but guess what?  I thought I knew better….
I was wrong!  (but it’s easier to admit that 20 years later).

Ciao Xxx


About TheDHW

Not loathed by totally everyone so that's good right?

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