August has been Sunshine and showers all the way, Lou and i had a very mini break in London which was bliss. On the roof above Soho, it felt like the South of France. Today as I’m writing this the postman delivered the new Squeeze album. It looks amazing and I’m proud of my part in its coming together, the foundation for our future has been relaid with 12 great songs. Who would have thought. It’s been a busy August and to be honest I need break, this won’t happen for some months so it’s deep breaths and focus thoughts. Folk festivals with men dressed as sparrows and ladies floating around in magical outfits. Slowing down is not an option although resting would be wonderful. The month began at Port Elliot a special festival that always wraps me with warm feelings. Good food and many stages filled with culture. I met Alan Johnson who’s books are very special, he is a big fan even if he thought I was Glenn. In the middle of August I hosted another writers week at Pennard House, a fun creative week with as ever so emotive songs. Great to hang out with Peter from the foundation, is such a sound person and proving to be a great friend. Our joint writing venture is in full flight now and as we keep on saying, this time next year Rodney! Our writers workshops are climbing a level, as you will see when you search through the new website coming very soon. The Buddy Holly Foundation have been so very generous, and all the writers who come on my weeks respect that very much. Done now, next year Detroit and back to Glastonbury with a possible new venue brewing in the wings. Tasty.

How quickly the months fly. The month was circled by the Purbeck Folk festival with Justin Currie sharing the stage with me, he sung Cold Shoulder and I shivered with joy. I then sat in a barn for three hours while I waited for my second show on a very wet bank holiday. I had just driven from Liverpool where I sang four songs in front a loving audience at a festival. This one in doors. The very beautiful Epstein Theatre in the very heart of the city. The day before that I was in Eastbourne it’s been a silly weekend of traffic folk and crap food. 760 miles in two days. I’m shaking with tiredness and nerves I really need to think these things through a little more in the future. Hay and sunshine, and showers. It’s almost back to school for me with chords a plenty and stages stretching out until Christmas. Barking. The future looks good, better than ever with a new Squeeze album and more of the same next year if things go well with the TV show. All fingers crossed. My stupid head can play tricks with me, so to keep it real i lean back on all things and wait and see, not to be disappointed in any way, to be in the  moment until reality finds me. But it is happening and it is great. Its incredibly delicious. Its almost as much fun as washing the car with your sister trapped inside. And i love a clean car.

I’m in a cowshed writing this the rain, people are drunk wet and dancing like elves, my stage is ready, the cows have come home. It’s time to put my solo show to bed and move on. It’s a little tired like me. The old songbook looks worn and the same faces hear the same stories and songs, so it’s time to put Ziggy to bed. The thick white Duke awaits. After the show i glide home along the South coast in my car tickled by how great the show was! it went down really well much to my suprise. I took my time on stage and in doing so revived the best in me. Ziggy still has some dust in him after all. I remember seeing David Bowie in 1972 in Eltham at the Collage, i walked home with a bottle of red wine, some five miles, singing and wanting so badly to be in a band, to be a writer like him. I never made his level up there on the top branch, but from here on a few branches below i can still smell the happiness of my journey from Eltham Collage to a folk festival in Dorset. David Bowie thrilled me with his daring smile and his crafted songs, i was in awe at how easy he made it all look. Surely i could get there one day. As i drove along the South Coast i remembered that night, i felt that young mans expression and joy, his hope and stupidity combined with a blind ambition to be a writer. And here i am, that person i dreamt of, and so my dreams must have come true, and along the way they have come true, today it seems such a long journey, such a long and complicated curse of being that only me could scupper its success. Cowsheds and Morris dancing, never too far away from a laughing Gnome.

Today is the end of the month, and im now home with the last gig ready to role, here in Firle at the Church. Arcelia in full supporting role, they are such wonderful people and singers they make me sound professional. The Church was filled with lovely people, Peter our Vicar held court and hovered around with such mystery and grace. I played my set with a relaxed temperature to be in keeping with the event itself. I played Battersea Boys as it was for a Hospice Charity and found it all very moving, but not as moving as knowing that the last time i stood there in the Church it was to be married to Louise. I feel very connected to Firle and the Church in particular, i will rest there im sure in years to come. Tonight closed the month with great harmony and hope. Suddenly i was there, i have made this journey, im so grateful for everything i have in my life, my family my friends and the music i seem to be a part of. Its a waterfall of wonderful notes and phrases that trickle over me on a daily basis. Summer seems to be over, its grey and the school clothes are out for inspection on the stairs, its time to refocus my thoughts towards the last quarter of the year. Tonight was very special, time will not hold it, it like grains of sand slip gently away, but i was there, and i know it was the place to be, next to washing the car and a good tiger wash.