Brass Band Awakenings

[nedthemumbler]

As I may have mentioned elsewhere, I have moved across town to the East end of the seafront, in Weymouth.

I spent my first night here on Friday, and discovered to my delight that with windows open and minimal traffic wheezes  I can hear the lapping of the waves on the pebbles that comprise the beach at this end.  So I can drift off to sleep and wake up to nature's soft Rhythms swaddling me.  Bliss

To make the obligatory transition from brag to humblebrag, this morning at 11 a bugle sounded the last post, or reveill,  or something.  I stepped out to have a nose, and found great gaggles of bemedalled veterans gathered in the street.  Also there, lurking in 5 or 6 side streets, were lots of bits of brass bands.  They had a shifty air of being up to no good, half concealed as they were from the main action.

I got the hell out of town, just as what I took to be Spitfires buzzed up and down the front.  That was when the infernal brassers started up and out of their alleys, and I understood their shamed demeanour.  An awful racket, even if its but once a year is going to knock the shine off my new gained paradise


Fuck it post... Not even had an alcoholic drink yet, just quite frazzled in the heat.  Dont have to work til 2pm Monday!

What is everyone else making of the Sunday sun?

[Gregory Torso]

I read the title of this as lile sexual awakenings, as if you had suddenly realised that all you ever wanted to do was strictly oompah.