Rusland Hall

Rusland Hall, Lake District, Cumbria.

Flooded fields in the foreground after the deluge of the night and morning before. The water is picking up the reflection of the Hall. The red colouration is the autumn tint of the Virginia creeper that coats the walls. Dark, broody clouds hang over the Hall with sunshine to the south.

This wasn't meant to be a backblip, but the glacial slowness of our computer confounded all attempts to load this blip earlier in the evening before we went out, and a second time when we got back.

This evening we went to see guitar legend Robin Trower playing in the Brewery in Kendal, he of Procol Harum and later as a soloist, his iconic album Bridge of Sighs. A friend emailed me a picture of him a couple of years ago, he looked like a Galapagos tortoise, only with a small amount of hair. In person, he turned out to be quite sprightly, the tortoise look comes from his habit of sucking his cheeks in when concentrating on a guitar solo.

The audience demographic was interesting: grey, balding, middle-aged men. I felt quite at home. Though I haven't cultivated my beer belly as well as most. I realised at one point that I was still wearing my Tori Amos t-shirt under my fleece top, and that if exposed, it would mark me out as something less than a classic rock man.

He might look like a giant tortoise, but he can still play dreamy guitar. The decibel level in the confines of the Malt Room was a bit over-bearing though, even for the deadened ears of many of the hardened fans - two people in front of me actually collapsed to the floor. Wifie beat a sensible retreat to the foyer, where the sound level was more tolerable and she saved herself ringing ears.

Earlier in the day, we did a little of the Art Trail - when this was taken - and ventured through the flooded lanes of the Rusland Valley in the south Lakes.

Best of all today, Bob the Cat came home from his break in the cattery - as usual sleeker and slimmer than when he went in. Perhaps we feed him too much?