Weekend: Music, Injuries
- Via Three-Toed Sloth via Crooked Timber, it’s a cat research review.
- Saturday night, I See Hawks in LA was live at my old dorm. I’d never heard them, or of them, before, but they were billed as “bluegrass/folk/rock” so I got all excited. Of course I forgot that these words mean different things to people not raised by an old-time string band. In the rest of the world, “bluegrass/folk/rock” means “country for a different demographic” and not “Fairport Convention but with banjos and verve”.
But, after getting over a deep-seated sense of righteous indignation at a world that refuses to conform to my taxonomy, I quite enjoyed the show. Lead singer Robert Waller employed that classic bluegrassy style on the calling out across a parking lot side of singing; it worked most of the time, though the slower harmonic numbers didn’t get the careful blending they needed. It was a stripped-down ensemble, two guitars (dobros?) and bass, which supported the tunes (and they were fun tunes, a few quite catchy, with words and everything!) but really cried for ornamentation. Had the fiddler and drums been along – had I known there was a fiddler and drums – I probably would’ve snagged a CD. Maybe next time.
- Persimmons. Yum.
- My awesome backyard neighbor has been hinting that I should try my hand at prickly pear jelly from her prickly pears, so I could share the results. I gave it a go, and aside from having little prickles floating round the kitchen for a week, I burned my thumb on the hot jelly syrup last night. Rather than finishing the jelly anti-botulism preservation, then, I held ice on my hand for a couple hours (sugar syrup is hot). Now I’ve got three little jars of jelly (which really did gel!) in the fridge, rather than in the cupboard where I wanted them, and a bandaid on my thumb where I didn’t want it at all.
Prickly pear jelly: tasty, but not at all worth the trouble.
- I just now cut my finger on a yogurt lid. I will not rest until all ten fingers have bandaids!