Saturday at Electric Picnic

The tent was snug. Wussy hubby brought the duvet on top of the sleeping bags. Breakfast on sausages and tea cooked in the tent. Proper camping.

Walked an awful lot. The nice, clueless, security wouldn't let me into the arena, something to do with tractors and wood chips so walked a long long way to Soul Kids to leave my teaching stuff then onto try and rescue a lost Diva and back again to find I'd missed uiscebots gig at the Literary tent.



Legs ached so much from heaving my wellies out of the mud. Sat down. Caught some of the hard-working Dermot Bolger interviewing George Seremba. Jon Snow was in the audience, wearing a suit and tie and big wellies. Surreal. Followed by Kevin Power and Michael O'Loughlin. Wandered around Mindfield. Ran a fairy story workshop at Soul Kids with a hugely talented set of girls. Big Bag Wolves watch out!



Missed Julie Feeney and Marina and the Diamonds.

Sussed a good reading spot in Body and Soul and diva-ed up to do a guerilla Poetry Diva Collective reading in the bog cottage. One member of the audience remembered us from last year. And what's more, she chose to come and listen again. Result! Another member of the audience was dressed as a cow so we did a participatory reading of my cow's arses poem. Everyone was moo-ved. The audience was invited to recite at the end and Uiscebots obliged.


Another, mojito in my tiara. Then caught some Rita Ann Higgins. She said she's no longer flavour of the month, which is a shame. I like her stuff and the way she reads it. The chemicals in the Heineken had mellowed her.


She was followed by the inimitable Tommy Tiernan who read spiritedly from William Burroughs' mad book Naked Lunch.


I last saw Billy Bragg, I think, at Greenham Common. (I was still at school)


He was in fine fettle. Angry still. Great singalong and packed the tent out, which he was obviously delighted about. As he said himself, we could have been watching Kid Creole and the Coconuts instead. Had another Clonakilty black pudding roll on the top of the double decker bus. I ate a lot of meat and carbs and relish. No fruit at all, unless you count the lime in my mojito.

Then instead of Bats for Lashes (cancelled) we saw some Jape, who were new to me and good. Also good looking and apparently from Crumlin.

Lisa Hannigan on the main stage was let down by the sound IMHO.

Stopped in at the Word tent in mindfield and saw some of Marty Mulligan from Mullingar (book the Divas, Marty) followed by the intriguing and eclectic Book Club Boutique from Londond, (Soho I think)


On to one of my highlights, Imelda May in the Crawdaddy tent. I'd seen her on the box but she was infectious. In a good way. Rockabilly/blues type thing. I kissed the barman for some Southern Comfort beads too. But only because hubby wouldn't. Honest.

Met some photographers who were boasting about the length of the lenses but did the Leinster Leader come to the Literary Stage to photograph a local poet made good? I didn't see him if he did.

And then front of stage for Madness, the Nutty Boys. I've seen them years ago and they were as good as ever. A good mix of new stuff and old reliables with a loopy saxophonist and headcase singers. Exhausted by the end from running on the spot but carried on regardless.
And on again to Body and Soul. Chilled around the fire in the teepee with some tea. Talked for hours. I love that place.