HeeleyBridge

Baby, Do the Philly Dog - The Olympics

Thanks for all the s. Much appreciated. The painkillers are taking the edge off now, my eyes have stopped watering finally. It really does get me down sometimes. The cricket from Trent Bridge is cheering me up though, as England have just broken the record for the highest ever one day international score with the last ball 444-3. Of course, Pakistan have still to bat.

Back for sale. Comes with lots of pain and free sciatica. Guaranteed useless and totally unpredictable. Back on the stomach wrecking medicines again. Grrrr... And the letter I went to pick up is still on the doormat.

Morning all. My head is all at sea this morning. What flippin' day is it? Things to do people to see, can't work out what or who. Time to consult my phone. B*gger. Has anybody seen my phone? Did I ever mention that I HATE BANK HOLIDAYS they stop my internal clock. Have a nice day everybody, I may be some time

Little Darlin' - The Diamonds

Only You - The Platters

It Doesn't Matter Anymore - Buddy Holly

Indian Love Call - Slim Whitman

Yup, me too. I first started playing guitar using my Dad's old Framus archtop acoustic and Bert Weedon's Play In a Day. Then when I was about 14 I met Bert, when he played the Sheffield Companions Club. He showed me a few chords and changes and told me to practice them and he gave me a 'Bert Weedon', plectrum. About nine months later he played there again and much to my surprise sat me down, gave me his guitar and said show me. It's a good job I had practised (lots). Later, he had Dad up on stage playing rhythm guitar for him. Now that was FUNNY. So I will never forget what a nice, kind and funny chap he was. Oh and I still have the plectrum, never been used, wrapped in cotton wool in a little cardboard box. And so from happy teenage memories back to the present. Shiny sunshine outside, warm enough already for me and getting warmer. Mrs HB is off out with grandkids again today. Me? Maybe I'll get the twang stick out and give it a sound thrashing at some point, after of course completing the tasks detailed in the "while I'm out can you just ...." list.

Only The Lonely - O

Dad's Austin Somerset was patched up with sheet metal that was taken from scrapped trams, (pop riveted on of course) and painted (up to the top of the sills) with the leftover paint from the tramsheds/bus depot, where our neighbour worked as a coach painter. The mix of the blue and cream was a very distinctive colour. As kids we used to go around spotting things painted with it (as it was acquired in gallons), from the car, to petrol cans, trailers, spare wheels, Granddad's lawnmower, the garage doors, my bike ...

C'mon Ev'rybody - Eddie Cochran

Dad would have been out with an old gallon oil can, tin snips, wobbly Black and Decker and the pop-rivetter.

Up until now I'd never actually heard this, heard of it of course. Loved the guitar and the sound. Great playing too, but in the 'not my bag' category. I refer the gentleman to the reply I gave earlier. Now, this I at least understand . It needs banjos and mandos though. Many non-British guitarists under-rated? I can't remember the last time somebody mentioned a British guitarist to me, apart from Hank the Plank of course and then only by people that don't like him. Competitive guitaring? Not since the Battle of the Bands in the mid eighties. I told my mates it was a fix. We still played. They were most aggrieved when we didn't win. I'd told them it was a fix. They were most annoyed that the band that won got a 'record deal'. I'd told them it was fixed, I knew that the band that won had 'signed the deal' two weeks before the competition. We'd never have won anyhow, the other band were pretty good, we were there. And so into another morning of Bank Holiday weekend liquid sunshine, which I can almost see through the fog.

It's Only Rock 'n' Roll (But I Like It) - Said Florence, hopefully Strolling Bones Rolling Stones

So, all I said was "Landlord! A pint of your most excellent and finest falling down water please and a large and succulent steak with trimmings and chips. oh, and a pint of cheap lager and bag of pork scratchings for t'woman" Posted from my phone app in the shed at the bottom of next doors garden.

Thankfully I remembered that today is Monday yet again. Bank Holidays don't half sneak up on me. So I'm off on my run (!) to the Post Office shortly to see how badly the staff can screw things up today. Then off to Mum's calling on the way for essential supplies. My ever loving and attentive (and thankfully usually absent) sister showed up last week with yet another cunning and devious plan to separate Mum from her savings. Her latest ploy seems to be convincing Mum that she is becoming forgetful. Unfortunately for her, Mum is as sharp as a pin and has a grip of iron on her bank books. She thinks my sister is trying to get her to spend now, so that when the inevitable happens she will have nothing to leave to me, once costs are satisfied and everything wound up. Mum saw this coming some time ago and her will has been made to rule out such possibilities. Somebody is in for a big surprise. The sun is back here after solid gloom and heavy rain all day yesterday. Tally Ho! Have a good day all.

Sweet Little Pretty Thing - Crazy Cavan and the Rhythm Rockers

Wild Thing - The other Mr Presley and his friends the Troggs

Summertime Blues - E. R. Cochran & Mr Gretsch.

Morning from the valley of the Sheaf. Bright, sunny and too warm already. Mrs HB has gone 'elephant hunting' with grandkids. Apparently there is a herd of pachyderms (of the jumbo variety, not hippos!) loose all around Sheffield. The Children's Hospital are fund raising again. I am doggy sitting the neurotic yorkie again, as #2 son has taken the other grandkids to the seaside for a couple of days. They were supposed to be going to some water fun park, but Mr Bump, the youngest grandson has broken the bones just behind his knuckles on his left hand and is in a pot again. Last time, about 3 months ago he broke both bones in his left forearm playing football. This time he fell out of a tree. He broke his leg a while back 'falling' off his bed ... We have a feeling that he is destined to spend the rest of his life in pot, and were thinking of preempting the next break and just encasing him from toes to neck to save time. he's only six and already broken more bones than the rest of the family grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins included. Of for a protracted sniff walk with dozy Rosie now, then settle down for an afternoon of cricket. Have a good day all.