‘Tired but wired’ was yesterday’s theme. Three more days of events to go to, but I’m hanging in there. Still amped to be part of the Tauranga Arts Festival, even if I am having trouble remembering names or formulating appropriate words to come out of my mouth. I have an inkling that this might somewhat be how a new-born’s parents might feel.

The Southgate Band was Irish charm meets American hoe-down. I was transported to believing that I was sitting around a campfire with my friends on a starry night; tales told through song, curling into furls of smoke and released into the midnight sky. The wine glass dropping to the floor near the bar was merely a clinking of vessels, adding to the scene.

I wanted to run away with The Southgate Band. I wanted to join them around my imaginary campfire; with Emma’s silky smooth vocals that carried enough soul to capture my heart and pull it from the bluesy south to an Irish pub, to hang out with the fiddler who astonished me using his mouth as an instrument, and to have the guitar and double bass provide the beat to Nic’s hot step. Unfortunately for him (and us), he had come with a metal cane because of a leg injury and we weren’t able to see his dancing prowess. But if the music was anything to go by, it would’ve been sure to impress.

Outfit of choice: A blue tank top, blue blazer, a cream skirt that looks like it had been crafted from one of Nana’s doilies and brightly coloured heels on my party feet.

Love ‘Is It Possible To Have Caffeine Intravenously?’ NJ

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