Mary Branscombe (marypcb) wrote,
Mary Branscombe

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Lousy kitchen luck

The kitchen luck hasn't been good recently. I broke one of the big latte mugs I got sbisson for Christmas one year (grey-green and slate and inscrutable chinese characters we think mean nice things but might be Western Consumerism is Rife for all I really know). The switch on the kettle stopped turning on so I wiggled it and it came out and now the kettle doesn't turn off (it's a wiggle of wire under the switch and it ought to be easy to put back but...)

And then last night when we got back from Rhythm Sticks... Thala Maksoum, meaning rhythm divided - Pete Lockett, Rony Barrak, Steàfan Hannigan on Uilleann Pipes, the tallest cutest double bass player called Monteverdi and an Algerian fiddle player who looked young and nervous in his embroidered shirt but sounded haunting - two hours of drumiing on tabla, bodhran, custom weird sit-on drums, clay pots, knees, cymbals, the side of the double bass... the drumming was great but I love the fusion of sharp/soft/fast/slow drumbeats and the wailing fiddle and the boppy/poppy/stately/steady bass with the pipes or flute moaning and hooning through it... one long piece called Circle was the standard ensemble piece with slots for solo, held together by the double bassist playing the same in/out/down/up four chords over and over, in perfect time for I don't know how long (except for his own solo) and why is it that so many double bassists are gloomy (the strain of lugging so large a partner around?); he was the happiest musician I've seen for years, so relaxed and engaged and smiling! We had wondered about an evening of drum solos (and we even did the old 'when drums stop - big trouble! when drums stop - bass solo!' joke), but it was great.

Coming home on a sticky train wasn't such fun, but we walked home debating the merits of Nando's chicken wing salad or mozzarella salad and as we got to the cat feeding point, there was a huge, horrible, discordant, banging crashing sound in the kitchen. A pair of shelves came off the wall, shedding tins of tea, plantpots and my collection of jugs and teapots. *Sigh*

The only breakable that didn't was Simon's space shuttle mug... My green japanese teapot has a chipped spout, the terracotta habitat teapot has no lid, the blue susie cooper teapot my mum gave me is in pieces, the Villeroy and Boch pot I bought to go to University has no handle, the Chippenham pottery tankard I got for my 30th is in fragments as are the Spanish blue jug, the ironware blue jug, a pretty yellow Ikea jug I bought because it was the yellow of my favourite bowl as a child, the blue glass jug Olivetti gave me when they launcehd a 'beep blue' portable PC and two Royal Doulton plates my mum gave me with jolly coaching scnes on...

Some of it was valuable, some sentimental, some I just liked. I'm not weeping floods of tears, but I am a little sad...

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