Today, i was going to build a clay oven in the garden. there is a hole four feet deep where I extracted the building material and I suppose I ought to fill it in before someone falls into it.
But, today, it looks like it might rain and I need to buy some sand to mix with the clay and seeing as I still am not allowed to drive, I decided it will have to wait. I have some enthusiastic friends who are fellow bakers and who are anxious to help so perhaps I will recruit them for the stomping and mixing part later in the weekend. I promise there will be pictures.
Alas, the kids came along, the banjo went in the loft and I became a respectable member of society, father-of-two and wage-slave. I forgot my wild youth, put aside frivolous passtimes and settled down to a domestic bluegrass-free existence.
But my ears still prick up when I hear the strains of "Foggy Mountain Breakdown" on the telly on some advert or other.
I shall end with a popular joke from my bluegrass days:
Q: What is the difference between a banjo and a trampoline.
A: You take your shoes off to jump on a trampoline.