And lo! The Lord said let there be record stores, and there were record stores, and it was GOOD.

Incidentally, the boy has reminded me that it's Record Store Day on Saturday. Now, I'm a bit out of the loop these days, what with Kittencat preferring reditions of Baa Baa Black Sheep and The Grand Old Duke of York to anything lovely put out by Kill Rockstars or Secretly Canadian, and I'm really unsure how she feels about Bedroom Community, but I do know that Record Store Day is a wonderful day, and that you Manchester types should get out of bed, put on your dressing gowns and shoes, get on a bus and stop by Piccadilly Records for a browse and a buy. Anyone not in Manchester can just sub their own location, the principle is pretty much the same. Now, I'm not going to tell you what you should be buying or what you should like, but there's some pretty awesome stuff available for Record Store Day, and going to record shops in your pj's really is what Saturdays are all about.

See you there, I'll be in the blue check pj's and my snazzy blue mocassin slippers!

In which the former made way for the latter...

Kittencat did good today. She knelt for a time whilst playing without the need for any support, and she did good eating of beans and vegetables, which is pretty good for her mere seven months of existence.

Woodcat sat proudly on the mat, batting toys around with Kittencat, thinking "I made that."

Turns out drinking gives you cancer

But it's bloody nice, isn't it?

I miss gin. With tonic. With a dash of vermouth. Oooh. Yes. Martinis. And vodka martinis. YUMMY.

Everything kills you these days, but it's an awful lot easier to bear if you're soused in booze.

Possibilities...

I've not been to a gig for ages. I think the last gig I went to was Wu Tang in August 2010, and the at-that-stage-not-yet-born small person got the hump, turned back outwards and elbows out and sulked. Horse Feathers played in Manchester about a week after the small person was born, and I missed it. In fairness, I never expected not to miss it, but I'm becoming increasing aware that I've not been to much in the way of anything for a long time. I miss music. I miss the cinema. Anyway, on Friday 27th May The Mountain Goats are playing at the Academy. The boy has suggested we go, and I'd really like to, but I can't plan for anything until the small person can be left with the mother, which is uncertain as to when that will be. Gah.

I am, however, thinking that we should be able to plan to leave the small person with the mother for a time in time for END OF THE ROAD!!! And Sam Amidon is playing, and Emmy the Great, and Joanna Newsom, and Bob Log III, and a veritable cornucopia of beautiful music for a musically starved Woodcat. Who could wear her wellingtons and cowboy hat and dance in fields with gin and her friends (order of priorities clear methinks).

And the prize for best newcomer goes to...

I haven't written here for a while. Much has changed. I met a boy. I had a baby. She is small, and beautiful, and right now she's asleep. I don't go out right now, but I'm having a whale of a time with my baby, and the boy and I are learning a lot about each other's television preferences. I can't believe I've never watched Seinfeld. It's A-MAZ-ING.