26 days on the up and up. That's what she tells me. You would think that God would be pleased with her endeavours. You would think that God would give her a break. A spot of spiritual salvation perhaps. Then again, God does work in mysterious ways and I know that because the bible tells me so. You can trust the bible. And politicians, of course.
Talking of mysterious ways, an unkempt Jamie Mann and his two unkempt friends were occupying the stage doing the earnest Glasgow singer songwriter thing with a seemingly unending series of strumalongs. It was indeed a holy thing that they did. Sort of.
Imbued with sensitivity was Adriaan Blom. Obviously in awe of the great British folk troubadours, he had the voice to back up his emotional proclivities even if his own songs tended towards verisimilitude. Ending his set on a couple of distinctly well known Dylan covers wasn't exactly a surprise and suggested a certain uncertainty in his own abilities.
Last man on was Dougsy. Whilst cursed with the moniker of a ned (that's chav for those of you south of the border in Englandshire) footballer, he proved to be a spirited performer ready to take chances and redefine other people's songs (such as "Billie Jean", for example) and make them his own. Admittedly, his own songs seemed weaker by comparison but there was no doubting that he wanted to make the stage his home.
Another night over. Another shiny penny finds its way into my pocket. Sometimes it almost seems worthwhile.