DIARY DATE 11th of August 2006

Here I am again faced with the dilemma of how to make another boring day seem interesting. A particularly interesting task given the fact that I am quite drunk as I write.
But hey, it worked for Dylan Thomas and countless others as somehow the lady in the bottle become the muse Euterpe, or Calliope. Hopefully somewhere Thalia’s knocking around as well.
Thalia muse of comedy, what kind of a woman would she be?

It would be good to knock out a laugh or two though, but I’m in touch with my own writing to know that what may seem brilliant tonight may seem crap in the morning. Tough if you don’t like it, I’m editing sod all.

I am relieved to say that I finally have all my essential paperwork done, guest list and even got my compere rota done. We have FOUR this year. As much as Phil and I love the job, Saturday is a fourteen-hour stint, Sunday, nearly as long. I’m an old old fart now, and Phil is actually fifteen years older than me (honest), and was a DJ when radios still had VALVES in them, and music only came through wires when the disc jockey blew down the other end.

So enter ANN WILSON & SARAH LEDGER both well equipped and qualified for the job Ann being South Cumbrias own Poet Laureate and Sarah has established herself on the stand up circuit and one FUNNY LADY! I know that they’ll get a huge welcome from everybody. It also gives me time to take BLUESMONKEY out for a spin or two.

Anyhow, when I’d done all the paperwork it was on to the pushbike (how cool is it having a festival site that you can actually cycle to!) and down to Tarnside Farm Adam had been there since last night, his bike (motorised) was cumbered with some Motorbike Sickness and was stuck there. So, I went down to cheer him up and to get out of the house. I could now without feeling guilty.

So I did, and spent a peaceful hour cutting the remains of bushes cut down for the new fence installation into small bits big enough to go in our fire can. Two of my bestest buddies Ben and Trina were coming down so we needed warmth.
Ben and I are the Glimmer twins, but which ones Mick and which ones Keef.
It is his fault and responsibility for the drunken state I find myself in. But a great evening was had by a fire in a field, Karen had joined us; brought by her daughter Louise, so she was able to drink too. Fantastic sunset by the way, Adam bike had been fixed by Wilsons eldest whose name I forget. Everyone was happy.

Good God it’s half past bloody three. I need my bed.


The Wizards Pot

An archive of the life and rantings of The Wizardmarra. www.wizardmarra.com The Best Storyteller In The World.

About Alan Whittaker

A storyteller like no other. Weaving traditional storytelling with madcap posing and stand up comedy riffing. Taking the listener from here to there and back again at break neck speed; with panache and a fine sense of the ridiculous.For more information about Alan, read his biography.

Comments are closed.