I wake up tired, I look for the light and there it is. Driving South I noticed how wide and open the sky had become, clouds hanging like cotton down upon the green hills and mountains. Some snow covered the fields as the blue of day cut a shape in the sky above. The road from Belfast to Dublin is non eventful but once on the road to Galway you can really see the expression of beauty in this wonderful country. My first show without Boo this week was in a small pub in Birdhill. I played a neat one hour set with stories and everyone stayed in the room with me. At the end I signed some books. I feel almost confident, but not totally. I fear my voice, I have to stand back and hope it does what its supposed to. My story seems to be ok, some fine tuning is required but that will come with a day off. In the pub tonight I was reminded of the loneliness of touring, as I sat eating fish and chips surrounded by the busy atmosphere of the night. I sat in my phone, bolting from one page to another, the screen it sacrifices so much. My car is full of me, my clothes are me, the night is me and the set is just long enough to embellish me with my incredible past. I have to start thinking about next year, as its almost here in cat years, I have to think about the show, where I play, what I do how I earn a crust. Lots of thinking caps to put on during my jaunt around this pretty land of Ireland. Once back in my room at the hotel I was taken by the floorboards, how each time someone walked by in the hall my bed moved up and down. Its a nice enough hotel but there is something missing, I think its love. Its not got very much love about it, being away makes me appreciate so much my home and how much Louise puts into our life. Bed, the lights go out, so do I.

Driving to Galway I zoned out, the new roads are empty out here there is nothing to do just watch the road and the sky for the future as it comes towards me through grey sky. I want to go home as I zone out, its been a week and more away, with myself. Babies screaming in lobby restaurants over the sound of tinny crap music piped in from the bottom of the ocean where most of the current chart music seems to rest. Like a sunken ship the industry that I once surfed on is now way out of my reach. I have to yawn reaching for a sense of humour, or a way home from all of this. As a tractor crosses a bridge above the road I see myself there, both of us off to work, across the day to bring home the crust of bread that we hope to layer thick with jam. Mud sprays from the back of the tractor as I glide in my office on wheels, clean as Childs nose. Sometimes being past tired is like being on drugs, phasing in and out of the day not really taking part in its glory. Galway is a place I think this will benefit things, it feels heavy, grey, the traffic and the shake and vac in the hotel room all add up to the tale end of a long journey. Two small children crawl about on the bar room floor and their mother gives them a mobile phone to take there mind from screaming. They look content, for a second. Then they climb up on the bar via a bar stool, this may be the future for them. Who knows, maybe me too.

Gusts of wind hit me without any warning sometimes, one interview I did some time ago was sent to me today, it is negative and not at all what I signed up for. I felt hurt and very misquoted. I was asked to talk about a festival the band are playing and they did what The Sunday Express did last year and take out the names from the book to sell a story. I was broken and thought this is the last time I talk to any magazine of paper about my life again, its the spin, the side wind and the turbulence in my day that I just cant handle anymore. I asked for it to be changed but it had gone to print, the online will be softer I hope. The editor told me that everyone he knew who had read it thought it was fine, everyone but not me. The book has created a web of sticky fibre that keeps getting other peoples feelings stuck to it, not my intention at all. I have to send out flares ahead of me to light up the possible danger zones where my words and other peoples expressions colour me pop. I will wake up, I assure you. On BBC 1 there I was on prime time with Bob Harris playing the Pointless game, we came second, this was filmed 18 months ago! I hope it looked good…how time flies and water under many bridges. If I knew then.

The dressing room in Galway was so cold, I could eat my breath, I was joined by Ella, who lives in my village and plays excellent fiddle. She joined me for the set and without a run through it sounded so great, I was taken from the woes of the day drifting like mist above the stage. The show went well, a small crowd of lovely people on a very wet night at Monroes.The long day capped off with the hotel rocking to some some traditional Irish music until the cows went home in the ballroom downstairs. The longest of all days followed with my three hour drive to Cork, followed by a 3 hour drive after the show to Dublin and the ferry. A three hour crossing, followed by a 6 hours drive back home. The Grain store was a wonderful place to perform, very nice people, perfect sound and very tasty food. A night I wish I had made more of but the journey was there on my shoulders, what a week it had been there in the Irish arms and eyes. I really enjoyed the tour and learnt so much about my show along the way, its a learning curve, even at this stage. Im not a natural, I have to learn the ropes, and re learn them as nothing comes to me without a folding. Ballymaloe seemed like a great hotel, the feeling in the house was very welcoming. But I had to make a dash for it. Now I’m resting at home looking at the rain feeling bashed up and wondering what on earth have I done. Tired, tubby and in a state of over driven but so glad to be home. The UK leg kicks off in a few days so just enough time to reflect re edit and find the deep soul.