It ain't over until the Fat Lady cries...

Sunday dawned like no surprise – I let Grizz sleep in and we scrubbed up well, dressed and set off once again for the Covent Garden area of London, as he had decided to return to the Penguin store to buy a bag he’d liked the look of in the sale!  

First we ate lunch in a pleasant enough urban courtyard near Euston Station and joined the sweltering masses on the Tube system…   The bag attained, we moved on passing Pineapple Dance Studios and one of Jamie Oliver’s restaurants and a sale at Cath Kidston.   This meant I finally spent a (very small) amount of money on l’il ol’ me, but I did not glimpse Louis Spence, which made me sad.

This is Louis Spence, artistic director of the  Pineapple Dance Studios (allegedly!) - Such fun!

I was allowing myself to get ever-so-slightly excited at the prospect of Stevie, while still worrying that ter Grizz would absolutely hate it, when we decided to take our spoils back to the hotel to save tramping them in to the concert in Hyde Park later.

After a rest and a second shower – London isn’t half grimy when the heat is on – We headed for Hyde Park, with no real sense of where the concert was going to be held.

By this time, Grizz had mastered the Tube system and we disembarked at Green Park, because well that was bound to be Hyde Park, was it not?!

Several bruised tootsies later, we attained the entrance to Hyde Park and made for the venue, having been pointed in the right direction by some good old British Bobbies, bless them!

It was a walk in the park.   Having found a spot about half-way down the field away from the stage, where Grizz and I could put down my paisley shawl and hunker down, amid whole extended families and a few rock lobsters glistening after a full day in the sun!

I allowed myself to feel a small frisson of excitement at the prospect of Stevie;   This was enhanced by watching her road crew prepare her mic' with the ribbons, crystals and baubles that are her signature touch.

By the time Rod arrived to announce Stevie's set, I was all a-tingle, and Stevie did not disappoint.   I was watching through water, however, as the tears of absolute joy and happiness at seeing her perform solo overcame me...    I am sad like that.   What made me even more happy was that Grizz noticed and said he was so glad he had come to see just how joyful this had made me.

Grizz clapped and jiggled away - He has been brought up with Stevie's music from way back in the womb, after all.   He found Rhiannon to be probably the most amazing thing and loved the band.   He chose Landslide to sneak off and go and get us a drink, leaving me to wallow and watch through water again...   A pint of cider helped me nicely to recover my senses and oddly reminded me of the cider lollies I used to enjoy when I was a little girl...

By 'Edge of Seventeen', I had lost the ability to see, so watery were my eyes, but the large screens and excellent sound (at least where we stood) did the business, and I waved Stevie off with a silent wish that she would return to the UK to perform solo again.   What surprises me is that she doesn't think she has an audience for her solo stuff here in the UK, while her British fans know she could probably sell out the Albert Hall twice over...

What amazed me most of all was that Grizz also thoroughly enjoyed Rod's set - We stayed until half an hour before the end, so he got to see Ronnie Wood stagger enthusiastically onstage a whole song early, only to be shuffled off by Rod, 'so he could be properly announced!' - Magic.

Rod's band took the honours - A beautiful girl brass ensemble and perfect saxophone, teamed with blistering 'twin' drummers who were incredible, as were the guitarists and well, just everyone.

Rod's transition from soul song to blues just blew us all away and I never expected to hear him perform 'Handbags and Gladrags', which simply made the air in the Park crackle with electricity.   

Stevie came back onstage for a rousing rendition of 'Young Turks'.   I'm not sure that either of them get on together, but this duet was better than I had expected...      Overall, I was more impressed than I ever believed I would be with Rod, who was admittedly cheesey but back to the height of his faculties, but the night remained Stevie's.   I say night, but she performed in sunglasses on stage for the first time in her career - 

This was the hottest day of the year in the UK so far, and the light was indeed blinding.

So were Stevie, Lori and Sharona.   And the band played on...

I am so grateful to my gorgeous son for coming along with me in place of his dad, and making the weekend so magical.   Love you Grizz!

p.s. the sound was much more wonderful than these clips show, I swear, but I am very grateful to some lovely people on Youtube, who have uploaded them <3

And to my countryman, David A. Stewart, for weaving magical musical webs that shimmer...

The Music Lesson.

Never let it be said that Fhina doesn't listen - Hope the colours are gentler on the eyes, darling Suldog?   Mwah!

And so, on the morning I was due to travel to London with GJ, my ball and chain, he announced that his ankle had swollen to the size of a Christmas pudding and he would not be able to come with me.   Instead, he summoned the Kraken who awoke, and my nineteen year old son, Grizz, was press-ganged into accompanying me.

Cue half an hour of door slamming and furniture being kicked and lots of grizzling (yes, his nickname isn’t Grizz for nothing….)   (He has a friend whose name is Chaos – I should have known, really…)

Thankfully, by the time we had settled into our First Class train seats, for (GJ had upgraded our tickets as a redundancy treat for me!), and were tucking into some breakfast, Grizz had settled to the idea of travelling south with his ancient crone of a mother to a music festival in the Park.

By the time we got to London, I had realised that  1) the European Grand Prix was due to be on TV this weekend, and  2)  GJ might have been afraid to leave his new (second-hand) motorbike (curse E-bay!) on its own in the garage for three days…   Still, we reached our hotel safely, unpacked and set out onto London’s scorching streets in search of entertainment.  

We headed towards Leicester Square which, like most of London at the moment, appears to be clad in wooden fencing and polythene, while Boris the Mad continues his prettification of the City for next year’s Olympics!

Moments later we were sweltering in Covent Garden, shopping until we dropped for some bits and pieces of clothes and fripperies I owed Grizz from last Christmas (when I was terrified about my future and the money situation and literally proferred an IOU).  

Basically, I had plans to give Grizz his idea of a trip to London, rather than my own – I had been keen to visit artist Frederick Lord Leighton’s home!   Well satisfied and boiling hot, we stopped off for a sherbet drink in the Lyric Pub off Piccadilly/Soho which was very sweet and old and friendly – I really could imagine the women who would have swept up and down the narrow, rickety staircase over the years in their skirts…

Suitably refreshed, we pressed on looking for shoes – Now Grizz is not a man after my own heart, he does not resemble his mother when it comes to shoes – Each shoe is carefully weighed in his hands and severely critiqued – A ‘slightly askew’ or ‘not the right colour’ bit of piping is cast firmly aside and on we continued in search of the Unicorn of Shoes.   In Fhina’s case, on the other hand, it’s more a question of ‘if the shoe fits…’

Finally, (sans shoes), on Saturday evening we ended up in Brown’s in Covent Garden which provides reliable and perfectly serviceable food and drink for prices that don’t startle the horses. 

In fact, Grizz could hardly believe that we had eaten and drank till we were stuffed, (and, in the case of a six foot five male teenager, that’s saying something!), for less than 30 quid!

We had passed The Ivy earlier, and I’m sure you can’t say the same about that restaurant, although I ticked a box in my head to put it aside for another day’s visit, as the prices there weren’t as unreasonable as I expected and I was curious about the Art Deco stained glass and design of the outside of the restaurant…

And the days go by...

I have been listening to Stevie Nicks' silver words since I was twelve years old.

I don't think I ever thought I would still be here, singing along to the sound of her voice when I was almost fifty.

I never believed I would see Stevie in my lifetime, because Fleetwood Mac had disbanded and re-formed over and over throughout the years, plus Stevie never seemed to perform outside of the US, and I never would never have enough money to go to America to see her there.

But, making my fortieth year for me, I had the pleasure of seeing Fleetwood Mac for the very first time, when they toured the UK with their Say You Will album tour.   I might have cried during Rhiannon, because her performance was just so moving and magical.   There were tears in GJ's eyes too, as I recall.   And he's not a man to cry easily...

Then, a couple of years back, I saw them perform again, this time at Wembley in London, for their Unleashed tour.   Admittedly, these days they tour without Christine McVie because she prefers a quieter, English provincial, life but I honestly believe Stevie and Lindsay are the powerhouse of the band nowadays, leaving the bold, bad John and Mick to provide the same, solid, powerful percussive background that they have done for all of their lives together.

Yet, when I heard last year that Stevie was touring the USA with Rod Stewart I have to admit that I was puzzled.   I wondered how this pairing would work onstage and I have been guilty of castigating Rod over the years for 'selling out' (as I saw it) with songs such as ‘Hot Legs’ and wearing leopard skin leggings, when he could have been the biggest blues/soul singer the UK had ever seen.   (Do Google Python Lee Jackson's 'In A Broken Dream' for more evidence, mes bloggy dahlinks).

So when it was announced (signalled to me on FaceSlapBook by my fab friend, Saz, bless your heart, my sweet!), that Rod would be playing London's Hyde Park this summer with Stevie supporting, I rushed to Ticketbarsteward's website like a person who'd never heard the words 'redundancy,' 'unemployment,' 'penury,' 'penniless' and 'workhouse'...

This weekend has been an absolute dream for me.   I shall share more laters, m'dears!

(Always keep them guessing and wondering...   That's what the Gold Dust Woman would say, after all!)

Heart and Soul!

Have a fine weekend, friends!

This weekend, I shall be mainly rustling in chiffon, leather and lace and rubbing shoulders with rock royalty.

Hope there's not too much rain to dampen my spirits!

Enjoy, with all the heart and soul you can muster, mes braves!