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Meanwhile, back at the shack... Thursday 30th May 2019

After a few long and very frustrating months of not being able to get up to Whippet Lodge (our little retreat and soon-to-be holiday let cottage in the Scottish Borders), for one annoying reason after another... after another..., we decided to bite the bullet over the bank holiday weekend and have a drive up from Durham to make sure it was still standing.

The cottage is located in the tiny village of Swinton, which lies between Coldstream and Duns in Berwickshire. There’s no shop, no mains gas, intermittent mobile phone signal and hardly a soul to be seen (there is a lovely pub, but it’s Edinburgh prices so I’ve only been in once!). A total boring nightmare, you might think. But offset that against the magnificent Borders landscape, the abundant wildlife everywhere, the peace, the quiet, the privacy, the beautiful walks and the many, many interesting and beautiful places to visit in the area, it ain’t so bad at all.

I’d missed the place badly, and was looking forward to a long-awaited jaunt North, even though we had intended to stay just the one night. We set off at Saturday lunchtime, Gary driving, me riding shotgun as usual as I don’t drive.

The weather wasn’t exactly the best for sightseeing on the way, so we decided to work in the car. It’s surprising how much you can fit in to an hour and a half sitting in a car when you put your mind to it.

Gary’s mammoth Mad Martins CD and book project is to be performed live at the Durham City Theatre during Durham Book Festival in October this year, which is really exciting, but we had so much to do and hadn’t started any real planning as yet. Feeling a bit overwhelmed as to where to start, we put the album on in the car, I got my note pad out, and we started listening and making notes. Gary needed to whittle down 50 tracks to fit into a two-hour show, with probable interval, and narrated intros for each track. No mean feat, but it had to be done, so we bit the bullet and cracked on.

Being pretty ruthless, Gary got the track listing down to around 24, keeping only tracks that are integral to the telling of the Martin brother’s story. This was equally important for me, as I will be producing back-projected visuals for each track, and needed to know how many I have to complete before the beginning of October. Blimey, 24 illustrations and a load of promotional stuff on top of my other commissioned work. I’m going to be a bit busy.

We pulled up on the cottage doorstep just as the last track was playing, perfect timing. I went in while Gary parked the car up. I felt a bit sick, as we had to have the cottage completely gutted after a burst pipe at the back end of 2017, and we are still on with the renovations and decorating. I really couldn’t face going through all that again, especially after getting so much of the donkey work done, with just Gary, me and my Dad Pete for labour.

I crept in, looking at the ceilings and walls, afraid for the beautiful wallpaper I had nearly killed myself hanging, Gary’s hours of painting and my Dad’s lovely new flooring. Apart from a dripping kitchen tap, a bit of a soot fall from some birds nesting on the chimney and a grey stain on the sitting room wall, all was pretty much ok. It just needed cleaning and airing out.

We got the kettle, immersion and heaters on, and I cleaned the place while Gary went through a mountain of junk mail. That was pretty much that, we were too knackered to do anything else, so we shoved Last of the Mohicans from the cottage DVD stash on, Gary knocked up a quick curry from fridge stuff we had brought from home and we downed a glass of wine or two sitting on the living room rug, as we don’t have a sofa in there yet. Not comfy, so we just went to bed!

Feeling a lot more rested after a bit of a Sunday morning lie in, we were determined to get on with some proper work in the peace and quiet. I commandeered the double bed as a makeshift studio and Gary set up his guitar and other gear in the living room.

I got nowhere for three hours. I was trying to get my head round the Mad Martins stage visuals, but it just wouldn’t happen. Total garbage was churning out onto the page. Then I had a half way decent idea, and it worked out. Wahey.

Gary was being really productive, working on his Butcher Baronet folk opera about John Duck (“Durham’s Dick Wittington”), as obviously all of the Mad Martins music is already written. We had a chat and decided we should make the most of the peace and quiet to work in and stay another night. I was over the moon, as I didn’t want to break off from the drawing I was developing. I was in the right headspace at last.

The piece is to illustrate the opening song of Mad Martins, ‘Three Mad Martins – A Prophecy’, which is told from the perspective of the brothers’ mother, Isabella Martin, as she considers her life and the future of her sons from her death bed. Isabella was not afraid to die, in fact she heard ‘the trumpets of Heaven’ as she lay, sure in the knowledge her precious boys would go on to be famous across many lands, so despite its subject matter, Three Mad Martins is a very uplifting song with a rousing tune – a great opener for the show. Bearing this in mind, I didn’t want to make the illustration a sad one. It is instead a very calm, peaceful image, incorporating a serene looking Isabella, smiling, her hair having been brushed out across her pillow by her caring niece, with her three sons depicted as martin birds swooping around her and her soft bedding morphing into the Northumbrian landscape that was her beloved home. It’ll be nice when it’s finished, as me Mam would say. Hopefully it will sit well as a testament to Isabella when it’s projected behind Gary and the other musicians as they play the song live.

After two days of the usual Borders drizzle, the sun came out at teatime. We had run out of wine (!) and had nothing in to eat, so we decided to venture out to the Co-op in Duns and go for a walk to give ourselves a break.

We drove to Duns Castle and had a walk around the lake and woods. If you’re ever near there, go. It’s just lovely. Last time we were there, the fields were full of sheep, but this time there were loads of beautiful young bullocks, which we stood and had a canny chat to over the fence. We are both vegan, and it made us really sad to think that these gorgeous creatures were destined for the pot.

One huge rolling field next to the lake has no fence, the animals just wander freely across the path if they fancy. Pretty funny when it’s sheep, following you, then when you turn ’round they stop and pretend they weren’t. Love sheep! This field was also housing these beautiful young cattle, just casually lying in the sun, surrounded by pairs of dozing, loved up mallards amongst the cow pats. The ducks are so used to people they don’t bat an eyelid as you pass. It was baby chick season, and there were loads of ducklings, tiny moorhens and coots. The swans were on the lake, just to complete the line- up.

We didn’t stay too long, just a pretty quick walk through the woods to a road and back, putting the world to rights and me being overawed by some humungous rhododendron trees. Wish I’d taken a picture of one of them. Next time.

After nipping to the shop for supplies, we went back and had some tea. Pasta I believe, or gnocchi or something, in case you’re interested, but you’re probably not.

Gary wanted to get some video footage of the songs he had written that day (so that he doesn’t forget them), so we set up the tripod and camera and got to work on that. The video footage is so handy for Gary critiquing himself and his songs, and you never know when a moment of genius is going to happen. He was really satisfied with the results of his song-writing efforts, particularly ‘City of Dreams’, which describes John Duck’s hopes on entering Durham for the first time.

That night’s retro blockbuster DVD selection was Troy, but neither of us could be bothered to watch it till the end and went to bed.

We set Monday morning aside to catch up on some stressy and/or boring admin we had been putting off, then set off on the journey home. We had already planned to utilise the time by again going through the Mad Martins tracks, but this time for Gary to decide what instrumentation was going to be needed for the live show. Basically, he randomly shouted out instruments and I tried to write them down quickly enough, ending up with me feeling car sick. At least it got the job done. All in all, a pretty productive weekend, but as always, it’s nice to go away, but just as nice to get back home.

A few photos from the weekend, but some from the back end of 2018. Whippet Lodge and Duns Castle.
Created By
Helen Temperley
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Credits:

Helen Temperley

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