It has been hot all day and there is no better listening on a day like this than to listen to Josh Rouse. So I have been trying to get through all his albums and here at about 9.00pm I am about half way through. I would have got through them all but was caught short over 1972 and had to listen to it twice and then ended up listening to Subtitulo three times.

He is almost a guilty pleasure.

When I saw him play at Leaf a few weeks ago I was almost put off by the cat who has the cream grin he would give off every so often. But then if I was him I would probably be giving off the very same grin.

With the the sun high in the sky I took youngest daughter to Clairmont Farm to pick strawberries. It was just about to get busy. I should have brought my camera to try and capture the field of bent bodies and the swallows in the air overhead.

It took us both 30 minutes to pick a punnet full. They were not too ripe and had a slight sourness to them still that would be well cut through by a dash of pepper.

Before we ate the strawberries we had another barbeque. This evening it was a chicken, spatchcocked and marinaded in garlic, paprika, lemon juice and olive oil.

It took longer to cook than I was expecting but when we got there was very good.

It had been warm all day and over lunch the sun had come out over the Cottage and we ate outside – although all-around there were clouds – we seemed exempt and the air over the Cottage stayed a clear blue. Late in the afternoon moving towards evening a pale low cloud came over but when you looked directly up there was still a hint of blue sky.

There were three boats fishing for mackerel off Owen Island on the incoming tide and a shallow golden mist had fallen over the Mizen. Having fallen it seemed to rise again. It was gold as the sun caught it adding other colours and depth so that behind Carberry Island it became impossible to tell what was cloud and what was the faint glimmer of the Mizen Head. After a few minutes it cleared so that the Mizen and its mountains rose above the line of mist floating over the water inbetween.

I could see them standing in the boats as they came in, and that suggested activity in turn suggested that in the twenty or so minutes whilst the light and cloud had played over the bay mackerel had been caught.

I started the writing of this sat in the garden watching out over Dunmanus Bay towards the Northside of the Mizen, Canty’s Cove and the peak of Knocknamadree. There were three pied wagtails making short runs across their corner of the lawn. Behind me the great fuschia hedge that runs the whole length of the eastern boundary of the garden was in full bloom with its dancing red flowers. If the wind was still there was a hum of bees from the hedge but even the slightest touch of a breeze would rustle the New Zealand flax in the corner drowning out other sounds and for most of the time the sound was of the paper rub and rustle of dry leaves scratching away in the backround.

The view is important because coming up from Durrus it is what we see. Durrus is situated at the bottom of the bay and is from where the road follows the coast until it passes Ahakista and then beyond to the head of the peninsula. As you drive the view opens up and the whole space of it expands, the bay widening until the Atlantic can be seen and the view from the garden takes shape.

So after the Grant Hart excitement over breakfast I had a message from Harvest Sun to tell me that the tour had been pulled and Grant Hart would not be playing in Liverpool. So up and down in a day.

To cheer myself up I bought a new piece of BBQ equipment from The International Store, a metal rack for cooking fish in. It may need some modification to expand it so it can take a large fish.

I then bought two large Grey Mullet from Wards.

In Ahakista if you stand on the pier you can see Grey Mullet cruising the water in packs of four or five. They are scavengers picking on the shreds of mackerel and crab that have not been taken by the gulls. ‘Living in shit and eating shit.’ They are difficult to catch with a hook because they have soft lips so that even if you hook them their lips will split and they will be free.

Wards get them from Anglesey where they are a by product of them catching Sea Bass. They are cheaper and far better value than Sea Bass and great for the BBQ.

The metal grill was just about big enough to hold them. Before they went on I stuffed them with slices of lemon and fennel.

The metal rack was too big for the BBQ and the heat was too hot when I put the fish on to cook. As a result I could not put the lid down properly and the fish cooked too quickly. Luckily they have thick skins so they weren’t too burnt.

We ate them with a green bean salad, roasted peppers, salad from the garden and new potatoes.

We listened to Phosphorescent and his bleached out guitars.

Well it is a quiet house this Saturday morning with children at sleepover, work and abroad.

The sun is out and the sky is blue and there are at least two snippets of song going round the back of my head that I can’t put my finger on. To try and banish them I have put on an old Grateful Dead album to listen to whilst I drink my morning tea and write this.

Having done that I pick up a listing magazine that was brought home yesterday and see that as well as John Grant and Phosphorescent playing in Liverpool later this year Grant Hart is playing in Leaf on 31 August. Shit. All this courtesy of Harvest Sun Promotions. I probably owe them a beer or something.

Grant Hart used to be in Husker Du.

Husker Du were one of a group of bands (REM, The Go-Betweens, The Replacements) that came out of the wood work in the early 1980’s that seemed to offer a new beginning for rock music after the onslaught of punk and new wave. In a lot of ways Husker Du were the best.

The name comes from a Finnish board game that translates as ‘do you remember’. They took the sound of The Beatles and the Byrds and put them through a blender of fast and loud guitars and drums and then wrote some good songs over them

They were famous for a corruscating cover of Eight Miles High. But for me it was a version of Helter Skelter that appeared on a B’side that did it. It eviscerated the original (and the desecration that U2 visited upon it) and spat it out as if it was the last song that was ever going to matter. It was a live version and on the fade you can hear them starting on Daytripper. It must have been a good night.

Grant Hart was the drummer and wrote half of their songs with the other half being written by Bob Mould. They made half a dozen or so albums over about five years.  New Day Rising is one of my favourites and through the guitars you had almost pop songs like The girl who Liked UFO’s.

They split messily. Their last album was Warehouse:Songs and Stories and after a few beers I will occasionally try and make out their argument that when that album was done with and the guitars and drumsticks had been put down there was no point in any other band having a go.

The last song on the album was written by Grant Hart and called You Can Live at Home. It was a break up song and as it came to a close you could hear the drums and guitars almost fighting it out with Grant Hart singing over the top ‘Walk, walk away, keep on walking away Go.’

Grant Hart then released a solo album and some more albums under the band name Nova Mob.

Years later we went to see a band play in a hall in Reading called Zu Zu’s Petals and it was only when we got there we realised that Grant Hart was playing with a band. He was brilliant and even played a few Husker Do songs.

He is about to release a new album which is a concept album of sorts centred around Milton’s Paradise Lost. Rather bizarrely I saw that he played in West Cork a few weeks ago. If I had been there I would have made the trip to go see him.

He is playing in Liverpool 31 August. I will be there.