Or what I got up to in Aberdeen in March…

We’re hurtling through the year and fast approaching the end of April.

More visitors have come and gone. Biblical floods have arrived then ebbed just as rapidly as they came.

The weather has ramped up a notch and we’ve gone from glorious clear skies and warm days/cool nights to hot and muggy and great mosquito breeding conditions.

But back to March, and Maurice played his first ever public performances. He has been rehearsing with an assortment of musicians and a legendary blues singer, Tha Lady D, and their first  performance was at the Lyons Avenue Renaissance Festival in March. Quite why this was called a ‘Renaissance’ festival is anyone’s guess as there were no re-enactments of medieval battles and no-one dressed up in strange garb in evidence.  There is an established tour of such festivals in the USA, with Houston hosting the Texas events in October and November. I guess it has to be when the weather is cooler given the ludicrous costumes that are mandatory at such festivals.

But this was no traditional Renaissance festival. It was a street party, an excuse for music, food and drink and lots of it! The band delivered their set and were a hit with all present. Check them out.

The next day we headed for Europe – Maurice to The Netherlands and me back home to Aberdeen.

I had a lovely trip home and caught up with a lot of friends and relatives while there. I also met the step-grandson, Zack for the first time and he was a wee cutie. He’s growing fast.

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Maurice travelled to Aberdeen to meet him for the weekend and I managed a trip to firstly Crieff for the Rankin reunion and then on to Glasgow to catch up with Iain and his girlfriend Holly.

A whirlwind trip was blessed with reasonable weather –  not too cold and the sun shone on more than one occasion. I ate haggis, fish and chips and a rowie or two and even managed a shopping trip to Marks and Spencer’s. Yes, I bought underwear.

So six women and a dead cat went out on my last Friday.

We were celebrating Barbara’s birthday and as many of you know, our dearly loved Barney who had been adopted by Linda, passed away just before Christmas. What to do with his remains? Well, he was cremated as the other two previously were, and a little wooden casket had been held at Linda’s until our meeting in March.

Barbara was a little uneasy about looking after him for a night but she kept him safe until I got there on the Friday. We had a table booked up the road at the Palm Court, and Barney came too, in a carrier bag.

We got quite merry, as you do on birthdays, and had a lovely evening with good food, drink and company. By chance we met another ex-colleague from RGU and stopped to chat before leaving for the night.

Hugs and farewells outside the Palm Court and I made to take the short walk back to my sister’s house and I suddenly realised I was missing something.

“Oh no, Barney!” I shouted as I realised I had left him in the pub.

I rushed back to the table we had been sitting at and there he was, inside the carrier bag. Phew!

“I left my cat behind” I explained to the ex-colleague at the next table.  On looking confused I helpfully added “It’s ok, he’s dead”…Not sure that it reassured her and probably just served to confirm her opinion of me as being a tad eccentric.

I then had to decide what to do with the little casket of Barney’s remains, since smuggling him in to the USA would no doubt cause all sorts of problems. I could not take him in hand luggage in a sealed casket without someone thinking I was carrying illegal substances and putting him in the hold might also flag up a strange object on the x-ray.

So I had to find a home for him in Aberdeen.

While Margaret kindly offered, the recent loss of two pairs of shoes in her house served as a reminder that while she has plenty room, perhaps Barney too would get lost or forgotten about in one of her many storage facilities.

So I took him to Sheila’s. Sheila is the new mum to our other cat Angus so I though it quite apt that we reunite the two pals.

I was to stay overnight on the Sunday so arrived clutching the carrier bag.

“Would you mind looking after Barney?” I asked.

“But he’s dead.” she said.

“I know that, but we just need somewhere to keep him until we come home”.

She looked shocked and horrified. “But, but, he’ll be decomposed by now and smelly maybe?”

Oops, I forgot to mention he was now a small collection of ashes in a little wooden casket.

She was relieved to learn this and has given him a temporary home in a corner of her house. No one will even know it’s Barney.

And so we came back to Houston after our respective trips.

The first weekend back was spent in Chicago for a gig with the legendary David Gilmour.

Chicago was baltic – absolutely freezing – and it snowed. The first snow I had seen in a long time so it had to be photographed!

Apart from the snow, the gig exceeded expectations and was up there as ‘one of the best’. Maurice says that I say that about every gig immediately afterwards and perhaps I do. But this indeed was something special. I don’t imagine I’ll see him again.

So many old rockers are passing on to the great gig in the sky.