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      <title>Man on the Moss</title>
      <link>http://www.manonthemoss.merseyblogs.co.uk/</link>
      <description>Out and about on Formby's highways and byways</description>
      <language>en</language>
      <copyright>Copyright 2008</copyright>
      <lastBuildDate>Thu, 28 Aug 2008 11:23:13 +0000</lastBuildDate>
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         <title>Not all gold at harvest time</title>
         <description><![CDATA[<span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image"><img alt="Harvestbales.jpg" src="http://www.manonthemoss.merseyblogs.co.uk/Harvestbales.jpg" width="500" height="286" class="mt-image-left" style="float: left; margin: 0 20px 20px 0;"/></span>
Work has just begun on this summer's cereal harvest. The number of fields being cut is increasing daily and soon I expect the road will be alive [albeit slowly] with tractors and trailors taking straw and grain from field to barn.
 But while farmers are able to get on the land hereabouts, it is not the same everywhere.
 Last night I was listening to the markets programme on RTE radio and it painted a completely different picture of the harvest in Ireland.
 Rain has brought a real dampener to the countryside there.
 Continual rain has meant that many farmers are finding it increasingly difficult to take heavy machinery on to the land, with serious consequences.
 Farmer Sam Houlihan was interviewed and spoke about life on his farm at present, where rain means he cannot start cutting his corn. If he took his machinery on, it would simply bog down.
 This meant that his workers were having to stand idle, or do unnecessary jobs. "We're sweeping the same yard twice," was his wry comment.
 The ground was drying out a little but the topmost layer was still damp. Walk on to it and your boots were soon caked in mud. Imagine taking a combine or baler on to that.
 Some farmers were managing to get on, but at a price, said Sam. Those farmers with straw choppers were able to work, running their combines over chopped straw. But this would present a premium in the future. The price of straw would rise in the winter as supplies shortened as so little was being brought into the farmyard because it was being used for this unusual purpose.
 Grain was also posing a problem. Moisture content had gone down to 21% but heavy rain on Saturday had seen it shooting up again, meaning more work for the dryer if it was harvested.
 Listening to Sam, you felt he was not complaining just for complaining's sake. Hopefully things will improve and we'll be able to get our harvest in without the same troubles on this side of the Irish Sea.
<span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image"><img alt="Harvestfield.jpg" src="http://www.manonthemoss.merseyblogs.co.uk/Harvestfield.jpg" width="500" height="263" class="mt-image-left" style="float: left; margin: 0 20px 20px 0;"/></span>
<strong>Music On The Moss:</strong> Not everyone likes cover versions. In the early days they were a way of English artists getting a quick hit with an insipid version of an American rock-n-roll original. But the attitude of the singer recording the cover makes a difference.
 I bought the last of the <strong>Johnny Cash</strong> <em>American</em> series of recordings recently, chosing from the five in the series mainly to see how he handled two non-original songs on <em>V</em>, the fifth in the series.
 I first heard <strong>Gordon Lightfoot's</strong> <em>If you could read my mind</em> when it was released in 1972, light and optimistic, realistic in the belief that if love doesn't work out there is time for a young man's heart to heal in the future. Cash's version, though, is the aching of a much older man, who knows that he's said farewell to his last taste of love, the heartache in his voice real and compelling. Rick Rubin's production lays Cash's vocals and his feelings bare in an intimate fashion that borders on the insensitive yet it is this quality which both men have been aiming for; you could call it truth, an honesty that a younger singer could never summon. It's certainly compelling.
 Cash has a more optimistic view of <strong>Rod McKuen's</strong> <em>Love's been good to me</em>. He's looking back at a life that has seen happiness and fulfilment, content to have tasted his chances rather than wasted them. 
 McKuen originally wrote the song for Sinatra [<em>Cash sings Sinatra</em> - a rare thought there!] but I saw him sing too many years ago when he toured England. He, too, took an optimistic, grateful view of the song with its lyrics about loves long gone in happier times. 
 ]]></description>
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          <category domain="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag">Cash</category>
        
          <category domain="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag">harvest</category>
        
          <category domain="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag">Lightfoot</category>
        
          <category domain="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag">McKuen</category>
        
         <pubDate>Thu, 28 Aug 2008 11:23:13 +0000</pubDate>
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         <title>It's not every day ....</title>
         <description><![CDATA[<span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image"><img alt="Blog2-CATERPILLARTub-1.jpg" src="http://www.manonthemoss.merseyblogs.co.uk/Blog2-CATERPILLARTub-1.jpg" width="500" height="367" class="mt-image-left" style="float: left; margin: 0 20px 20px 0;"/></span>
Every day I go across the Moss.
 Some days the Moss comes to the office.
 Or what could be thriving out there.
 In fact, it was thriving in Jack Richardson's garden.
 But what was lurking in the undergrowth of Palmer Crescent had him baffled.
 After all, what is as thick as your finger, even longer, and has four false eyes at its sharp end?
 Jack didn't know. Nor did his pals who tried to find out on the interweb.
 So he brought it into Elbow Lane.
 A little bit more research on the interweb threw up the answer.
 It was an elephant hawk moth catepillar.
 It was a great thing, too. When walking it stretched out to around six or seven inches. When worried, it retracted its head and thrust up its "shoulders" with the double pair of false eyes, hoping to scare off any predators.
 Now Jack has returned it to the undergrowth where, hopefully, it will pupate over winter and in spring emerge as a beauitful lilac/pink moth with a wingspan of 70mm.
 What a beauty.
<span class="mt-enclosure mt-enclosure-image"><img alt="BLOG-CATERPILLAR.jpg" src="http://www.manonthemoss.merseyblogs.co.uk/BLOG-CATERPILLAR.jpg" width="500" height="300" class="mt-image-left" style="float: left; margin: 0 20px 20px 0;"/></span>
 <strong>Music On The Moss:</strong> Perhaps it's a good tune for a reporter in transit, <em>False Knight On The Road.</em> I've been listening to two versions of it this week. One by <em>Tim Hart and Maddy Prior</em> when they were a duo on the folk circuit, the other when they were part of <em>Steeleye Span</em>.
 The first showcases <em>Maddy Prior's</em> heavenly voice as she composes a slow version over the twinkling accompaniment of Appalachian dulcimer. The second is faster, grittier, with <em>Martin Carthy's</em> voice twinkling at the ironies in the lyrics while the electric accompaniment gives it a hefty punch.
 TH&MP were a favourite of mine from the late sixties and SS produced some great music, although I've rather lost touch with them in their present days.]]></description>
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          <category domain="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag">Maddy Prior</category>
        
          <category domain="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag">Steeleye Span</category>
        
          <category domain="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag">Tim Hart</category>
        
         <pubDate>Wed, 27 Aug 2008 16:26:43 +0000</pubDate>
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         <title>Hidden places</title>
         <description><![CDATA[There are one or two places on my route to work which always fascinate, not so much for their beauty or grandeur but because they are so well hidden.
 If we were using the locomotion of years ago [horses or shank's pony] this would not be the case.
 But the motor car has the annoying habit of speeding you past those interesting places.
 All you have time to do is to have a brief look as you past, your overall picture of it being built up over weeks if not months.
 As the seasons change there is so much more to take in.
 I thought that this morning when I was able to have a good look at the site [when three tractors are stopped in front of you waiting to join a major road you fortunately have no option but to stop and look around].
 The place I refer to is a little triangular copse. In winter it is a bare, deserted place. Light is dappled through the taller trees and it always seems deserted of birdlife.
 As spring turns into summer to becomes a completely different place. While leaves of weeds and saplings push up in the middle, the outer boundary becomes a wall as the trees burst into leaf.
 But when I was stopped in the queue I could see that the interior was a carpet of nettles around the edges, with other smaller plants in the centre. Ivy was growing up the trees, one plant making use of another.
 But then the tractor convoy was on the move, I was, too, and I had to leave the scene until my next pass.
 Perhaps I'll have the chance to stop again when autumn is painting it in a different fashion.
Music on the Moss: There is nothing like a happy noise, and they don't come much happier than <strong>Jefferson Airplane's </strong>1969 live album, <em>Bless its pointed little head</em>.
 It is one of my favourite albums and just oozes energy and good times. The blending of Grace Slick's voice with that of Marty Balin is nearly ethereal - in a heavy way. Their voices rise and fall against each other's on <em>Somebody to Love</em> and Balin's composition <em>Plastic Fantastic Lover</em>. 
 Spencer Dryden's drumming is energetic and drives the band along, while <em>Jorma Kaukonen's</em> guitar screams and whips along wicked lead lines. <em>Jack Casidy</em> is one of my favourite bass players and he thunders away, moving the basslines into and out of the limelight with ease, oiled with the eprfection that only practice brings. Paul Kantner's writing and rhythm guitar helps them to storm along on a selection of songs that give new life to <em>Fred Neil's</em> folk classic <em>Other side of this life</em> and <em>Donovan's</em> song <em>Fat Angel</em>. 
<strong>www.jeffersonairplane.com</strong>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>Thu, 14 Aug 2008 16:35:51 +0000</pubDate>
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      <item>
         <title>Sorry I'm late, but ...</title>
         <description><![CDATA[It must be one of the most-used excuses trotted out by everyone from the excuse-laden executive to the timorous teaboy.
 "I got behind a tractor!"
 Well, expect more of it in the next few weeks.
 You'll have noticed from the straw in the road that farmers have already begun their cereal harvest. A couple of fields have yielded to the combine already and straw bales are now being carted from field to barn. Don't blame the farmer if you get behind one - he's on his way to work, too!
 Just a week ago a couple of fields of spuds at Downholland Cross were being picked. Now the field is tilled again, ready for the next crop. In the meanwhile, gulls are enjoying combing the broken soil for whatever they can find.
 A field nearby has seen a growing team turning up to take curly lettuce that have rounded up nicely in all this warm and wet weather we have been having.
 I'm pleased to have seen a couple of fields of oats roundabout, too. It was once a staple crop in these parts, mainly because it was grown as provender for the draught horses who did all the work on the land before the advent of the tractor. I'm hoping that somewhere someone will be growning a bit of barley as I always think that is a lovely cereal to look at, with its beard weighing it down.
 Wheat ears are beginning to droop a little now, too, as they reach maturity. Farmers will be waiting for it to acheive its correct levels for humidity and so on [farming's all hi-tec now, you know, and everything is tested scientifically] before bringing it in.
 There has not been much to report on the wildlife front recently. Woodpigeons are still exploding merrily from the hedgerows with no thought for where they're going. Over at Downholland the other night I was watching a crowd of 50 or so swallows really laying into the cornflies over a field of wheat. Their acrobatics re only matched by bats, and I love watching those, too, especially the ones which swoop in, round, over and through my garden in the dusk.
 <strong>Music On The Moss:</strong> there can't be many cowboys born in the city but <strong>Rambling Jack Elliott</strong> is one. Modelling himself on Woody Guthrie, he learned to pick guitar and search out old songs from old cowboys and toured Europe and America telling tales and making music. <em>Young Brigham</em> is his album I've just been listening to, one which he made when he had been cut free from the constraints of a label which wanted him to do more of the same.
 He tackles the <strong>Stones'</strong> <em>Connection</em> with a vengance, and comes up with what he calls the only night herding song a cowboy would ever sing round cattle - all the others would be likely to spook the longhorns, which panicked at the slightest provocation - as well as the first song he wrote himself, <em>1912 Greens</em>. It's a spoken blues-type, though it's not sad at all, just a fond looking back at a visit with guitarist Billy Fahr to a house at 1912 Toulouse Street in New Orleans and the events that happened there. His rickety guitar backing adds to the sense of homeliness that RJE engenders. 
 Speaking of Rambling Jack, isn't the interweb a wonderful thing? Seaching on it just brought up another Rambling Jack, real name Edmond Houlihan. A Fenian, he was blinded in a fight and had to go about earning his living playing the fiddle at fairs and suchlike. According to the article, "The anti-recruiting ballad is one of the great strains of Irish resistance songs. The story is told that in Ferbane, County Offaly, Rambling Jack defied the British Army when he sang an anti-recruiting song as a recruiting meeting was about to begin in the main street. The song was one of the finest, Patrick Sheehan, by Charles Joseph Kickham, the Tipperary Fenian who was the foremost writer on the IRB newspaper The Irish People. Both Kickham, who was partially blind and deaf, and Edmond Houlihan, would have identified with the character in this song, a young Irishman blinded fighting in the British Army in the Crimea." He died aged 92 in 1931, having lost his sight in a battle in 1867. From then on until his death his fiddling playing and Republican ballad-singing was all that kept him going.
 There, we've all learnt something. No doubt there are more Rambling Jacks around if we did but know it. 
 ]]></description>
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         <pubDate>Fri, 08 Aug 2008 15:30:37 +0000</pubDate>
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         <title>A road with a view</title>
         <description><![CDATA[Let me take you on a little detour.
 The Man on the Moss normally doesn't have the time to ramble but this morning I went on one of my favourite excursions.
  Fir Tree Lane is the gateway to the hidden haven that is Clieves Hills in Aughton. It's only a narrow road that twists and turns like a stream which has no idea of time.
 You pass one or two farms and the occasional house as you wander along. Hedgerows are neatly trimmed, birds sing and you hardly pass a car [mind you, I did pass a builder's merchants' lorry!].
 Turn off into Clieves Hills Lane and you can enjoy a tremendous view. It looks out over the whole of the Sefton coast. To me it is nearly as good a view as that of the West Lancashire Plain from the top of Parbold Hill. Perhaps one day I'll stop and describe what you can see from Clieves Hills.
 But do take a trip down there. But don't all go at once. It's not that sort of road!
 <strong>Music on the Moss</strong>: I only ever bought one <strong>Little Feat</strong> album, their first. But I always liked <strong>Lowell George</strong>. I've been listening to his first solo album. He had a soulful voice but not in the Motown way. This album showcases a variety of styles - even one track with a Paraguayan harp accompaniment - and shows why he is sadly missed. With Ry Cooder, he was one of the great modern exponents of the slide guitar.]]></description>
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         <pubDate>Thu, 24 Jul 2008 15:03:54 +0000</pubDate>
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         <title>Hedgerow haiku</title>
         <description><![CDATA[There are quite a few contrasts in the hedgerows as you drive over the moss.
 Some conscientious farmers have already been out with their flails, trimming the new growth over long lengths and leaving long white slashes against the green of the leaves.
 Other hedgerows have a shimmer to them, particularly hawthorn hedges. The new shoots are borne on red twigs and these cast a haze over the hedge, a scarlet veil through which you see the stonger colours of the green leaves and brown branches.
 There are still a few pieces of may blossom on the hedges but there is an awful lot of bindweed flowering at the moment. Shakespeare always referred to it as columbine, but gardeners call it other names for its habit of twining tightly around their favourite plants!
 Out in its natural habitat, it looks a wonderful flower, its large trumpet poised like a bold white structure among the hawthorn leaves.
 <strong>Music on the Moss:</strong> With ringing guitars and a particular penchant for a particular rhythm, <strong>Charlie</strong> were a group that could only be English. After all, their lead singer and writer was called Terry Thomas! But success eluded them here and they made more of a mark in America, which is a pity as I think Thomas was as an individual writer, with the ind of style that could only come from an Englishman, as Ray Davies. This 70s guitar band - which even added a second drummer once it crossed the water - produced some really catchy tracks. I've been listening to their second album, <em>No second chance</em>, and I'm surprised at just how good it is still is after all these years. The title track and others has a particular shuffle rhythm that Thomas uses to great effect to move the song along. The guitar breaks are clean and crisp, too, and the lyrics show a deal of sophistication. And only an English writer could pen an anthem to that stalwart of 70s heavy metal concerts, the <em>Greatcoat Guru</em>! You must have seen him in his Army surplus overcoat!
 ]]></description>
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          <category domain="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag">charlie</category>
        
          <category domain="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag">guru</category>
        
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          <category domain="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag">terry</category>
        
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         <pubDate>Wed, 23 Jul 2008 16:29:00 +0000</pubDate>
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         <title>Lifted up</title>
         <description><![CDATA[Work began a few days ago on lifting spuds in Aughton and Downholland.
 Soon the sight of monster machines creeping across the green fields will be more common. Already the gulls are enjoying the feast that spud lifting always leaves behind in the turned-over soil.
 Cabbages are being planted elsewhere and on Monday I noticed a field of hay had been mown and left to dry in the traditional manner rather than bagged as haylage. It's always nice to see rows of grass drying in the sun or being turned over to ensure even drying.
 Not much in the way of wildlife, though. I've been disappointed in the number of hares and have hardly spotted any in the fields. I wonder whether they are finding it harder to survive now they are not protected for coursing?
 <strong>Music on the moss:</strong> <strong>Buffy Sainte-Marie</strong> has long been one of my favourite singer/writers. Her early career in folk blossomed into some good rock music. I've been listening to <em>She used to want to be a ballerina</em> which features a wide range of songs, from the upbeat title track - I like the notion that "<em>Rock n roll will never be Tchaikovsky, but Tchaikovsky will never be rock n roll</em>" - to a great version of <em>Helpless</em> backed by <strong>Neil Young</strong> and <strong>Crazy Horse. </strong> Another fellow Canadian that Sainte-Marie helped popularise is Leonard Cohen and she does an evocative version of his <em>The Bells</em>. Even more striking is the portion of one of his novels which she set to an electronic score as <em>God is alive, Magick is afoot</em> on her brilliant <em>Illuminations</em> album. The lyrics are rather dense and you never understand the same way twice but her performance weaves them into a spell. Her voice and guitar were treated electronically to provide soundbite links between tracks, very avante garde in 1969. The other tracks range from really soft fluffy lovesongs to rock tracks which really bite. Try logging on to www.creative-native.com to learn more about her and the sterling work she does for the Native American community and her educational work.]]></description>
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          <category domain="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#tag">Buffy</category>
        
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         <pubDate>Tue, 15 Jul 2008 11:46:42 +0000</pubDate>
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         <title>Turn, turn, turn</title>
         <description><![CDATA[This week has seen cereals "turning." You know, when the green suddenly goes just a little bit golden, and a shimmer of colour wash goes across the field.
I've noticed ears of wheat which are just starting to gain faint touches of colour to them, and other fields are beginning to see the green fading away from stems and leaves.
 Potatoes, too, are turning. The purple flowers of Maris Peer are starting to show, the leaves already bulked up tremendously in the past couple of weeks.
 There does not seem to be much happening on the wildlife front. Kestrels seem common but most other birds must have taken to the nest, although the longer vegetation hides a lot of the birds with youngsters rummaging about on the ground.
<strong>Music on the Moss:</strong> I've been listening to <strong>5 Hand Reel</strong> this week. Scottish folksinger Dick Gaughan is perhaps the pre-eminent voice, though the contribution made by the other group members can't be overlooked. Tom Hickland's fiddle playing matches Gaughan's dexterity on the guitar, while Bobby Eaglesham's vocals and guitars provide a tonal contast. Barry Lyon's bass playing is really good, far heavier and intricate than you might expect for a folk band. And then there is Dave Tulloch in the crash-bang-wallop department. His drumming sets 5 Hand Reel apart from other folk-rockers. It has that distinctive Scottish marching band feel and he really set up a driving, swaying rhythm. The actual marching band drumming is tremendous [but only if you've ever taking part in walking days and processions and had to line up behind the band!]. I remember seeing them live several times and they were great crowd-pleasers. Well worth a listen, though it's handy to have a Scotsman standing by to help understand some of the lyrics. <em>Kempy's Hat</em> is a fine tune, <em>Wee Wee German Lairdie</em> is a fine song, the <em>Haughs O' Cromdale</em> is a particularly fine song very well arranged, and the band do some admirable treatments of Rabbie Burns.]]></description>
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         <pubDate>Thu, 03 Jul 2008 14:50:35 +0000</pubDate>
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         <title>Aerial attack</title>
         <description><![CDATA[THERE is nothing that upsets birds as much as seeing the outline of a hawk or falcon above them.
 Obviously this had upset a sparrow this morning when I was passing Lloyd's garden centre at Downholland Cross.
 Hovering above was the distinctive shape of a kestrel, its wings beating as it struggled to line up a potential victim in its eyeline.
 And battering around it was a little sparrow!
 It is common to see birds as small as sparrows or other finches mobbing a hawk as a group but you don't often see an individual bird taking on a predator.
 The sparrow had the sense to keep above the windhover, though; it probably knew that it would prefer to keep its position rather than chase after the sparrow. The kestrel is not really built for high-speed aerial chases. Leave the sparrowhawk for that - and the sparrow would probably not spot it coming, either.
 Bigger birds are upset by predators, too. Not too long ago I spotted a buzzard making a flog of seagulls uneasy at Greens Lane in Downholland. The gulls were on the ground but still feeling nervous of the big bird.
 Mind you, gulls can be just as predatory. The other night I was looking at a field newly-mown of hay in Lathom and spotted a greater or lesser black backed gull quartering the field in the same way that a barn owl would. For 20 minutes or so it kept up this repeated pattern, obviously on the look out for something tasty that no longer had long vegetation to hide in.
 <strong>Music on the Moss:</strong> This week it is an Irish folk-rock group <strong>Horslips</strong>. Long ago disbanded, they created catchy rock songs from reels and jigs, as well as playing traditional music. Their first album, <em>Happy to meet ... sorry to part</em>, is a brave expedition into celtic rock, paving the way for others to follow. A later album, <em>Dancehall Sweethearts</em>, shows a more aggressive stance, although they can still turn a ballad with the best. <em>Stars</em> is a good anthem while <em>Mad Pat</em> has a really good chorus. So, if you want your rock music tempered with some fiery electric violin and mandolin - not to mention uillean pipes and concertina - <em>Horslips</em> were the lads.]]></description>
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         <pubDate>Tue, 24 Jun 2008 16:11:34 +0000</pubDate>
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         <title>Who do you love?</title>
         <description><![CDATA[IT'S surprising just what a difference a week makes.
 And a lot of rain and quite a bit os sunshine, too.
 I'm thinking of the humble spud and the fields that have oh-so-quickly turned from barren drills into colourful mosaics.
 The tiny wisps of green peeping from the top of the drills have within a week or so really bushed out and pushed up. While there wouldn't be much in the way of tubers underground yet, there is an awful lot of growth going on.
 This current weather will really suit them. The sunshine currently encouraging people to walk out without their jackets and coats is doing just the same for the potatoes, powering it and encouraging it to get out into the open air.
 Elsewhere, cabbages are being planted in impressive blocks on some fields, with other crops being given the benefit of a plastic coat to keep them ever warmer.
 All this is giving the rooks a good reason to rummage round the fields. And am I right in thinking that flocks of wood pigeons are more prevalent this year than last? They seem to be everywhere.
 In Lord Sefton Way lapwings are trawling the new corn with partridges, looking particularly handsome when you glimpse them from the road.
 <strong>Music on the Moss:</strong> It would be remiss not to refer to yesterday's sad news about the death of <strong>Bo Diddley</strong>. I remember saving up to buy my first record player and having no money left over to buy any records! After two weeks of silence I'd saved enough to buy my first LP. It was <strong>Bo Diddley's</strong> <em>In The Spotlight</em>. For 21/- [or twenty-one shillings, or £1 1s 0d, or a guinea for those who love old money] it was a really good buy. I still have it and still love the music on it. 
 While at school we had thrilled to the old red-and-yellow Pye R&B label records that featured <strong>Chuck Berry</strong> and <strong>Bo Diddley</strong>, the latter apparently playing bass on many of the former's hits. They even recorded an album together, <em>Two Great Guitars</em>, with tracks like <em>Jaguar And The Thunderbird</em>. 
 Diddley's home-grown and much-copied rhythm - say "Shave and a haircut, two cents" and you have it - kept British groups going in the sixties r&b boom when rhythm and blues meant something entirely different to what it does today.
 With <strong>Billy Boy Arnold</strong> on harmonica, <strong>Jerome Green</strong> on those trademark maraccas - and sly reply vocals on <em>Say Man</em>, reputedly the first rap song even though it was recorded in 1958 - Diddley had a fiercesome stage act. Many people still believe Elvis the Pelvis took his leg moves from the man the called "The Originator."
 He was out on his own in employing women guitarists in an age when that didn't really happen. His half-sister The Duchess and then Lady Bo all helped power a catalogue of songs and sounds that kept up with musical fashion and electrical wizardry. Diddley was turning knobs all the way round to maximum long before it was fashionable or psychadelic.
 And if you were to ask me to name the real rock-n-roll guitar, it would have to be Diddley's square Gretch. A killer instrument in sound and looks, although he had a stable of similar instruments built by various makers.
 His music will live on. You'd be surprised at how many people have covered his songs. My particular favourite cover is <strong>Quicksilver Messenger Service's</strong> set of variations on <em>Who Do You Love?</em> over a whole side of their <em>Happy Trails</em> album.
 A great musician who was under-rated by many people but a legend nonetheless.]]></description>
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         <pubDate>Wed, 04 Jun 2008 13:26:18 +0000</pubDate>
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         <title>Little wheel, spin and spin</title>
         <description><![CDATA[THERE was too much rain and mist about to see them this morning, but I find the wind turbines on Burbo Bank are quite a sight now they are operational.
 On a clear morning you can see them from Clieves Hills in Aughton. They keep appearing on the horizon as you pass through Downholland, like silver windmills waiting to be tilted at by a giant knight.
 Once you arrive in Great Altcar they appear like a line of glimmering whirlygigs, arms turning rather more slowly than you would expect.
  I find they look particuarly impressive when seen against a dark, stormy sky. It really highlights them against the horizon.
 I know that there are mixed views about wind turbines but I think these are quite a feature along the coastline now that pmost eople appreciate.
 <strong>Music on the moss:</strong> Oh dear, a hippy-dippy moment. <strong>Steve Hillage</strong> was best known as the guitar hero on <strong>Daevid Allen's</strong> Planet <strong>Gong</strong> before launching into a solo career. Then he disembarked Britain to live in France where he apparently now does very well on the dance/trance music scene.
 His <em>Rainbow Dome Music</em> is the very essence of hippy-trippidom, composed as the ambient music for an event or happening or installation centred around some artwork or other. Whatever, it really does take you back to the days of tie-dye and tedium, bubbles and so on. Throughout there is a continual sound of running water which must have had people running off to the little lads and lassies room. I find it soothing, rather strangely, as the sound of running water is always one of the natural elements you listen for in the country.
 There is no recognisable melody, just lots of synthiser parts and electronic trickery. I reckon it is what Frank Zappa would have called "noodling." He had this theory that people playing avant <em>garde</em> music or experimental stuff could be put into two camps<strong>: </strong> those whose "noodling" demonstrated they knew what they were doing and those who were just making a noise. <em>Hillage</em> knew what he was doing but I don't think it really stands the test of time as some hippy stuff has. 
 To reinforce its place in hippy-dippidom, the original LP was pressed in a clear vinyl! Very odd on the turntable. They don't do with with CDs, although a CD I bought on Saturday of <strong>Miles Davis's </strong><em>Kind of Blue</em> had a very impressive scaled down print of the original LP, even down to the groove on the record. Neat.
 And the old folkies among you will recognise the title of this piece comes from one of <strong>Buffy Sainte-Marie's</strong> very early albums. Time to get some of her stuff from the loft, I think.]]></description>
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         <pubDate>Tue, 03 Jun 2008 10:55:53 +0000</pubDate>
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         <title>Llama Ted</title>
         <description><![CDATA[IT must be my propensity for whimsy that causes me to smile every time I pass Llama Ted's and see one of his llama's heads popped up over the hedge.
  We are not talking about a new cult on the moss, by the way [that would be Lama Ted spelt with only one L, a funny way to spell Ted I know] but the movement of Farmer Ted's herd of llamas to his big field.
 It must be a surprise to strangers to see these Andean animals grazing on a West Lancashire farm but, after a while, you look forward to seeing them there.
 If camels are said to have been designed by a committee, then llamas must have been put together by a small working party. Their camel-like neck, pointed ears and goat-like face sitting atop a woolly coat any sheep would be envious gives it a character all of its own.
 <strong>Music On The Moss:</strong> I read an interview in one of the quality papers with author-TV presenter-columnist <em>Clive James</em> that he was going into partnership with <em>Pete Atkin</em> again. Pete who? Thirty years ago, James and Atkin were a formidable partnership with James' lyrics matched with Atkins' music and stage performance.
 As you can imagine, their songs were erudite, witty and off-centre enough to make you smile. <em>Master of the revels</em> is a jaunty funsong which the original liner notes said featured the former Salvation Army tuba played on the <em>Sgt Pepper</em> album. <em>Have you got a biro I can borrow</em> is a wistful tale, while <em>Girl on a train</em> is another subtle twist on the boy-girl theme. <em>Beware of the beautiful stranger</em> is one of their better tracks, though few fall below the very good mark. Tracks like <em>Session man blues</em> show how perfectly Atkins could adapt James' lyrics to form a perfect song.
 If you come across one of their LPs in a rack somewhere, snap it up, though they're apparently quite pricey these days. ]]></description>
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         <guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.manonthemoss.merseyblogs.co.uk/2008/05/llama_ted.html</guid>
        
        
         <pubDate>Tue, 13 May 2008 16:39:25 +0000</pubDate>
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         <title>Casting clouts</title>
         <description><![CDATA[I THINK we can safely cast our clouts now. May is well and truly out.
 Not the month, but the blossom.
 The old folk always admonished youngsters taking advantage with a bit of early spring sunshine with the tried and trusted country saw <em>Cast not a clout until May is out.</em>
  They were, of course, in their Olde English way, warning us not to stop wearing winter clothing until the may blossom was on the trees.
 Once the hawthorns in particular had started producing flowers, then it was safe to cast off your winter clothing and wear something more appropriate to spring.
 The hedgerows are filled with blossom now. Gardens are pink and white with cherry blossom - and magnolia if you are lucky enough to have a tree - while the country lanes are bright with the white flowers of the hawthorn.
 Now the buds have burst [and until then they are apparently quite tasty as a countryman's snack] it really looks as if the countryside has come to life.
 The trees coming into leaf is exciting enough but the sight of the blossom always brings summer that much closer. Magnificent trees like the horse chestnut are also in flower now, tall splendours that they are.
 Other trees will also be in flower. Hay fever sufferers will already know that the silver birch is shedding its pollen as this is one of the major causes of early-season hay fever.
<strong>Music On The Moss:</strong> Back to the sixties again with <strong>Shawn Phillips</strong>, one of my favourite musicians. Red hair down to his waist, a 12-string guitar in hand and latterly a double-necked guitar, his music moves easily from folk through rock to jazz, aided by a voice capable of covering several octaves that was powering a music far ahead of its time.
 I'm listening to his first major album, <em>Contribution</em>, along with his second, <em>Contribution II</em>. From the stunning beauty of <em>Withered Roses</em> which opens the first to the way Phillips works with slow ballads, adding orchestra to a catalogue of rock heroes which include <strong>Traffic's</strong> <em>Steve Winwood</em> and <em>Jim Capaldi</em> along with session guitarist legend <em>Jim Cregan</em>, in a variety of styles which range from the complex to the simple.
 Phillips is still making music thankfully. Check out www.shawnphillips.com]]></description>
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         <pubDate>Mon, 12 May 2008 11:05:30 +0000</pubDate>
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         <title>Somewhere in my mind there is a painting box...</title>
         <description><![CDATA[That's the thing about spring, you notice all the new colours that suddenly burst forth.
 I was going down a tree-shrouded lane in West Lancashire the other evening when I suddenly noticed the effect of the sunlight on the new leaves.
 There was every shade of green imaginable in just a short stretch of road. Sycamores are differently leaved to whitebeams, chesnut to beech and so on. And the intensity of the colour is heightened at this time when they are still fresh from the bud.
 It's the same in the fields going across the moss, too. I think of a couple of fields which have been left fallow all winter and now they have a pallette of colours which sweeps into the distance.
 Yellow blades of stubble have green swords of new growth running through them, while there are plants that turn red and orange from weathering, particularly rain and frost.
 As if this is not enough, there are now brilliant fields of oilseed rape blazing by the roadside, almost dazzling you.
 Other fields have been ploughed, harrowed and drilled into a uniform brown landscape, though that will soon be picked out in green as the potatoes start to show through.
 <strong>Music on the moss:</strong> It's been a varied week. Legendary folkie <strong>John Stewart</strong> has been strumming away on his live <em>Pheonix Concert</em> recording. He helped make <strong>the Kingston Trio</strong> famous in the sixties, then ventured into a solo career. He came to prominence with <em>California Bloodlines</em>, a landmark album, then took on board <em>Fleetwood Mac's</em> <em>Lyndsey Buckingham</em> as his producer for some more rockier albums. Then there has been <strong>Hot Tuna</strong> with their blues-rock on <em>Yellow Fever</em>. 
 And just in case anyone is wondering where the title to this blog came from, it's the opening line of a song from <strong>The Incredible String Band's</strong> terrific album <em>The 5000 Spirts Or The Layers Of The Onion.</em> I wonder why they don't write album titles like that any more?]]></description>
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         <pubDate>Thu, 08 May 2008 16:34:23 +0000</pubDate>
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         <title>Red eye express</title>
         <description><![CDATA[WITH the rapidly growing cereal crops in the fields making a thick green curtain, pheasants are having a good time looking for insects and other food.
 The other morning the only way you could spot them was by looking for their red eye patches. It was as though there were lots of disembodied heads moving about the fields.
 Now in their brightest mating plumage, the pheasant cocks are presenting brilliant scarlet heads. It made them easy to spot.
<img alt="pheasant.jpg" src="http://www.manonthemoss.merseyblogs.co.uk/pheasant.jpg" width="500" height="439" />
 Also making a colourful addition to the morning was a charm of goldfinches near to New Hill House Farm, dashing for cover into the hedgerow.
 Hardly colourful but no less impressive was an oystercatcher flying over the fields in Lord Sefton Way, its beautiful black-and-white plumage presenting a striking zig-zag pattern as it passed over the fields.
 And I spotted my first pair of swallows yesterday. 
<strong>Music on the moss: </strong>The first <strong>Tim Buckley</strong> record I bought was <em>Lorca</em>, his first real expedition into jazz. It's an uncompromising record that sees Buckley using his voice as an instrument more than anything else, stretching words into syllables of sound rather than normal verses. The brilliant Lee Underwood backs him on guitar and pipe organ. ]]></description>
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         <pubDate>Thu, 24 Apr 2008 11:03:12 +0000</pubDate>
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