So Hullavington happened again a week ago. Regular readers will recall that in my post on Harfest 2008 I refused to chronologise events, but rather reported them in a scatter-gun way which was intended to sweeten the memories when I came to read them again a year later. This worked so well that I have decided to do it this year as well...

• An african drumming workshop in a beer garden, AGAIN
• Scrambled Eggs with Michael Graves, AGAIN
• Being paid for jamming... in jam. AND WHISKEY MARMALADE.
  
• Stadium-level cheer for the duck song.
• The Return of The Reclining Chair Which You Had Brilliantly Forgotten Was A Reclining Chair (my film adaptation of this event will be in all good cinemas next month).
  
• Tamsin's miracle conjuration of Dandelion & Burdock at the perfect moment.
• Foot-smelling session with Pip.
  
• Being really, creepily tired under blue skies and watching children do sooty and sweep, with a trace of concern...
• Humiliating Santana gavotte in front of entire village (can you believe I don't drink).
  
• The world's sluttiest cat.
• Michael Graves, standing before us in the living room, reads dramatically from his own writings in the Peter Warlock newsletter (subject: a re-enactment of the great man's conception).
  
• Pip/Tamsin's ultra-ridiculous Paris hip-hop night to Michael Graves Band no sleep boneless, compounded by, in Tamsin's case, forcing me to watch a 50s French film in which a woman with hair walks around town going "Julienne...!" a lot, and staying awake for nearly half of it.
• Mindbending discovery of key childhood books.
  
• Inspiring kids with talk about how money isn't everything.
• The world's lowest shower.
  
• T-SHIRTS. (see picture)

I will never hear a glider swoop troublingly low over my head again without the slightly eerie sound evoking the pastoral memories of [cont. p94]