D for divorce

It's been the hardest two weeks so far, and it's pretty much all been down to difficulties booking bands. I lost it at one point and the word 'divorce' was mentioned. Not since Kate and I went kayaking in Florida and we inadvertently drifted into an allegator infested swamp, and I 'slightly' lost the plot, has Kate had to use such shock tactics.

DSF is new and untested and partly due to our committment to be kid friendly, slight uncool perhaps compared to other older, more established and hipper fests. Consequently booking really great bands has been much harder than I thought. But despite this we have finally got a line up we only dared dream about a month ago. Thank you Claire.

I finally feel that we have got something to shout about, and a festival programme that I would find hard to resist. We now have to make sure that everyone finds out about it.

I'm 40 today. The second half (fingers crossed) of my life didn't start very well as I had to go back to bed for a couple of hours nap. This exhaustion was due to a day spent with Andy asking shops in four local market towns to put up our posters in their windows, very tiring for an office bum like me. I was pleasantly surprised how lovely everyone was that day apart from the witch in the Thirsk elderly ladies hair dressers. We also avoided the local carpet mafia who are also staging an event on July 17th and are turning up the heat in the PVC roadside banner war.

The need for a proper van is increasing again, as we speak my Golf has an 8ft bar sticking out the back of it. Our garage owning friend is looking out for a sensible Transit for me. I have however found that VW transporters come with added 'lifestyle' which I shall find hard to resist despite the premium in price.

Only a week until Tuesday night football plays a team of Spanish Air Traffic Controllers in Barcelona. Hopefully a collision free game.