...but this weekend isn't playing ball at all.

I did go to the Mela yesterday afternoon, and around 1 it started raining and just never stopped. Horrible, cold, torrential stuff. I managed my steps anyway (almost £18k) and had the pleasure of listening to a pipe band (The Red Hot Chilli Piper's) play Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" on stage at an indian festival in Glasgow. In the rain. And, to paraphrase Thomas Hardy, no one present found anything extra-ordinary about this at all.

Last night I went to a concert by the Scottish Mandolin and Guitar Orchestra. It was in the very beautiful St Mary's cathedral, which is a hop-skip and a jump from the flat, and the players were talented and hard working. It didn't really move me (there was something missing. A piano maybe. And some wood-wind. A brass player or two).

I've been out for breakfast this morning (an impulse trip over to Cafe Rio - and damn me for missing their Tom Waits night on Friday) and people are setting up for this afternoon's West End Festival parade already. I'll wander off for that, I think, but the skies are already clouding over and I can see some spits of rain on the window, so I'd better change out of my shorts first, I think.

Also, the Dixie Chicks aren't really doing it for me right now - time for something a bit more git up and go, pardner. 

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