Since my last blog post, it’s fair to say a little time has slipped by! While I’m fully aware that most of my rambling waffle is probably only read by my mum and a few very supportive family members — all of whom I’m genuinely grateful for — I do owe you an apology for the radio silence.
I can only imagine the sleepless nights you’ve all had, desperately wondering what I’ve been up to, hanging on for the latest updates from my incredibly exciting and important life! Thankfully, the wait is finally over…
Looking back over the last 12 months, it’s safe to say our Anniversary Shindig completely took over our lives — along with all the stress, chaos and “what the heck have we taken on here?” moments that came with it.
For years, I’d toyed with the idea of putting together an event so spectacular it would send shockwaves right across West Cornwall. Admittedly, my ambition does have a habit of running slightly ahead of reality, but blind optimism has always served me surprisingly well. Deep down, I always had a feeling that one day we’d actually pull it off.
The fifth anniversary of A Goldstitch Christmas seemed like an amazing excuse for pushing ahead with the plan.
Since launching our fundraiser back in 2021, it’s become a huge part of my life. It’s grown far beyond anything I ever imagined and has introduced us to so many amazing people and opportunities along the way.
Now, whilst we may not quite be reaching Captain Tom Moore levels of fundraising just yet (there’s an old topical joke incoming), I can confirm we’re also not busy building a luxury spa and sauna complex in our back garden either!
Over the years, we’ve been incredibly lucky to have such amazing support from friends and family. What started as a small fundraiser has now become a proper part of our Christmas tradition.
Making our donations each festive season now feels just as important as settling down to watch the TV ad breaks in the hope of catching the Coca-Cola Christmas advert for the first time, or picking up the festive edition of the Radio Times to see what’s on over the holidays.
It was during an evening with David Baddiel that the very first spark of an idea began to form. That night, the Princess Pavilion seemed to speak to me. Possibly even sing to me.
I experienced one of those proper “if you build it, they will come” moments from Field of Dreams — except with slightly less baseball. I knew then that it would be possible – whatever “it” was.
That night, I arrived home still replaying an awkward and slightly embarrassing encounter with one of my comedy heroes, David Baddiel (the full cringe-filled details can be found in a previous blog post), and decided to do what all great visionaries do — turn to Google and start wildly researching ideas with absolutely no real plan in place.
Somewhere amongst the late-night searching, enthusiastic overthinking and blind optimism, the first rough outline of a proper plan slowly started to come together.
As it turned out, getting the ball rolling was actually far easier than I’d imagined — especially for a complete amateur like me with no real experience in organising anything on this sort of scale.
Before I knew it, the venue was booked and I was already making plans for the bands who’d be performing on the night.
Now, when I say I was “well on my way”, that perhaps makes the whole process sound slightly smoother than it actually was. Getting everything over the finish line proved to be a little more complicated than expected, but in the grand scheme of things it still felt surprisingly straightforward — almost as easy as popping into Woolworths to pick up a new CD back in the day.
We knew that if we were really going to do this — properly do it — then we had to think big. No playing it safe. We were aiming for the stars.
Right from the very beginning, there was one band sitting firmly at the top of our wishlist. The band we all agreed would make the night feel genuinely special. Everyone’s favourite indie-pop icons, The Hoosiers!
At this point, I’d just like to clear up any rumours regarding court injunctions, restraining orders or cease-and-desist letters connected to my relationship with The Hoosiers. As far as I’m aware, they’ve been perfectly comfortable with our level of contact, and any suggestion that they’re uneasy about our blossoming friendship is wildly inaccurate.
In fact, there have even been occasions where they’ve messaged me first. And honestly, if that doesn’t scream “completely mutual friendship” then I don’t know what does.
The learning curve throughout all of this was definitely steeper than I’d expected. There were a few tense moments along the way too — nervously waiting for contracts to be signed, dates to be confirmed and constantly refreshing emails like my life depended on it.
But eventually, somehow, we managed to get everything over the line. The venue was secured, the bands were booked, and suddenly this mad little idea was becoming very real indeed.
Now all we had to do was sell the tickets… which, naturally, sounded much easier in theory than it did in reality.
The aim of the Anniversary Shindig, as we rather grandly named it, was always about much more than simply celebrating our five-year milestone.
From the very beginning, the plan was to donate every penny of profit to the organisations we support. In our heads, with enough ticket sales, we could kick-start the year with a really meaningful donation and make a genuine difference right from the off.
So naturally, we threw ourselves fully into promotion mode. We were determined to sell, sell, sell — probably to the point where friends and family were terrified to open social media in case they were confronted with another ticket reminder from me.
In the build-up to the big night, we somehow found ourselves doing proper media appearances like seasoned professionals. We were lucky enough to be featured on BBC radio, chatting about the Shindig and our fundraising efforts, which felt slightly surreal considering a few years ago I was probably just shouting into the void on social media.
Our brilliant local station, Rewind Radio, also invited us into the studio for a few hours to talk all things fundraising, music and the upcoming show and they interviewed Al from The Hoosiers. On top of that, we started appearing in gig listings, local press and online news sites.
For a brief moment in time, I genuinely started to feel like a big-shot music promoter. And honestly? I rather enjoyed it.
As the day of the gig crept closer, the nerves really started to kick in. By that point, we’d printed hundreds of posters and leaflets, spent countless hours posting on social media, and employed every possible ticket-selling tactic known to mankind — including emotional blackmail, mild guilt-tripping and possibly one or two methods that probably shouldn’t be discussed publicly.
More than anything, I desperately wanted the night to be a success. Not just for us, but for the bands, for everyone who’d bought a ticket, and most importantly for the fundraiser itself.
For the first time since this whole crazy idea began, even my usually unstoppable blind optimism and enthusiasm were starting to wobble slightly.
But then suddenly… it was happening.
I arrived at the venue to discover that The Hoosiers were already in town, casually wandering around Falmouth and posting Instagram stories along the way — even tagging me in them just to keep me updated, naturally, because that’s what close personal friends do.
At that moment, everything started to feel very real indeed.
As I busied myself stocking the dressing room with the rider — carefully separating the different coloured Skittles in line with their extremely strict and definitely-not-made-up demands — I remember feeling equal parts excited and absolutely terrified.
A wise man once told me that you should always expect the worst, because anything better than that feels like a bonus. Under normal circumstances that’s probably solid advice, but with my blood pressure already somewhere near dangerous levels, a full-on doom spiral really wasn’t going to help matters.
Instead, I had to keep reminding myself what was actually important — the night itself, what we’d managed to build, and what it all represented for the fundraiser and everyone who had supported us along the way.
Before long, Irwin and Al returned to the venue and we greeted each other like old mates who hadn’t seen each other for at least eleven months or so. There were hugs, plenty of chatting, and me desperately trying to act as relaxed and cool as humanly possible.
As we stood there chewing the fat, I could genuinely sense a real emotional connection forming between us. It was a special moment. In fact, if I’m reading the situation correctly — and I absolutely believe I am — I’d say there’s every chance I’m now firmly on The Hoosiers Christmas card list.
Leaving them to enjoy their carefully arranged, colour-coded confectionery selection, I retreated to the tiny office that would become my home for the next few hours.
By this point, the nervous energy was absolutely surging through me. I could practically feel my pulse thumping through my neck as the reality of the evening finally hit. Naturally, in true “prepared for disaster” fashion, I took a precautionary migraine tablet — just in case.
A little while later, I finally started to relax slightly as I wandered into the main performance area just as the band were about to begin their soundcheck.
At that point, apart from the band themselves, two sound engineers and the tour manager Lewis, I was the only person in the room. Which meant that I was about to receive my own exclusive private performance from The Hoosiers. Priceless.
As the venue slowly started to fill up later that evening, and friends and family began arriving to show their support, I could finally feel some of the fear and anxiety starting to melt away.
Up until that point, I’d genuinely convinced myself that the night might end up consisting of me, Haytor, The Hoosiers and about five loyal friends gathered together for a slightly awkward and deeply intimate singalong. The sort of evening where you nervously nod along saying things like, “To be fair, the acoustics of an almost empty room really do give Worried About Ray quite a haunting quality.”
The night itself got underway with Rewind Radio getting the crowd warmed up with a proper selection of indie classics, helping to create exactly the kind of atmosphere we’d hoped for.
Then came our support band, the brilliant Haytor, who absolutely smashed it from the moment they stepped on stage. And honestly, remember the name — because they are going to be huge. You heard it here first – well, not quite first, but you heard it from me too.
By that point, standing in the middle of a busy venue with live music blasting out and everyone enjoying themselves, I finally realised… this was going to be one hell of a night.
The sense of relief I felt at that moment was enormous. And when The Hoosiers finally walked on stage and launched into their set, it suddenly hit me — we’d actually done it. A proper gig. A real live event. Something that, not so long ago, had only existed as a ridiculous little idea in my head.
For months, I’d been stressing over every detail. Constantly trying to sell tickets, spread the word, and, of course, relentlessly tagging the band on Instagram at every available opportunity. There were definitely moments where it all felt like it could collapse into complete disaster.
Now, financially speaking, it may well have hovered dangerously close to that category… but I’d still like to think that everyone who came along that night left feeling they’d been part of something genuinely special and hugely entertaining.
The Hoosiers never fail to give it their all on stage and I couldn’t think of any better bands to headline our Anniversary Shindig, making it as memorable as it was.
We left the venue that night absolutely buzzing after what had turned into a spectacular evening. Everything we’d hoped for — the music, the atmosphere, the support from everyone who came along — had somehow come together perfectly.
And as for me and The Hoosiers, it was obvious that our bond had grown even stronger over the course of the night. In fact, it seemed pretty clear to me that Irwin and Al were just as delighted as I was to have officially welcomed me into their inner circle. Whether they’d describe it quite so dramatically themselves remains open to interpretation, of course.
Aside from the chaos and excitement of the Anniversary Shindig, 2026 has also brought its fair share of challenges along the way.
Personally though, I’m doing well and generally feeling pretty healthy, which is always something to be grateful for. There has admittedly been a slight issue involving dangerously high blood sugar levels, but I’m fairly confident that has less to do with any serious medical concerns and far more to do with an enthusiastic relationship with donuts and cinder toffee.
Our biggest concern this year, though, has been my dad’s health. His heart condition has affected him for many years, but more recently things have become much harder for him.
After being diagnosed with Amyloidosis a few years ago, alongside the ongoing heart failure problems he was already coping with, his health has sadly deteriorated quite significantly.
It’s been incredibly difficult for him. Life has changed a lot, and while he’d probably be the first to admit he was never exactly training for marathons, losing the ability to do even the simplest day-to-day tasks independently has understandably left him frustrated, upset and struggling at times.
Some days are better than others, and thankfully he still has good days where things feel a little more manageable. But when he has a bad day, he really feels it, and those tougher moments can take a lot out of him both physically and emotionally.
My mum carries the vast majority of the responsibility when it comes to looking after him, and it’s taken a huge amount out of her too. Broken nights of sleep have become normal, along with helping him with everyday tasks that, only a few months ago, he would’ve done without even thinking about it.
Dad’s two recent hospital stays have frightened him as well, which is completely understandable. Any kind of infection seems to take a huge amount out of him, knocking him backwards just when he feels like he’s starting to regain a bit of strength and momentum again.
That’s probably been one of the hardest parts for him — just as things begin to feel a little more positive and manageable, something comes along and sets him back again.
Between the infections, low blood pressure, water retention and even suspected Sepsis, he’s really been through the mill over the past few months. There have been some genuinely frightening moments for him along the way, and at times he’s openly admitted that he feared his days might be numbered.
The older you get, the more you realise that poor health slowly becomes an unavoidable part of life — whether it’s your own health, or that of the people you love. It’s one of those difficult realities that creeps up on all of us eventually. As we get older, so do the people around us, and suddenly hospital appointments, medications and worrying phone calls become far more common than you ever imagined they would when you were younger.
Like every family, we’ve had our fair share of medical struggles over the years, and sadly my dad isn’t the only person close to us going through a difficult time at the moment.
That’s one of the reasons I consider myself incredibly lucky. And as a two-time cancer sufferer, that might sound like a slightly strange thing to say. But the truth is, throughout everything, I’ve never felt desperately ill in the way that so many others unfortunately do. Comparatively speaking, I’ve been very fortunate.
My treatment has generally been kind to me too, and at the moment my troublesome lymph nodes are behaving themselves nicely, which is all I can really ask for.
Sadly, not everyone around me has been quite so fortunate. Friends, family members and colleagues have all faced their own battles with illness, many of them far tougher than anything I’ve personally experienced.
The whole aim of A Goldstitch Christmas was always to try and turn something negative into something positive.
After my second cancer diagnosis, I found that I needed to something with the nervous energy, worry and uncertainty, and rather than letting all of that consume me, I wanted to channel it into something meaningful. Even if it only made a small difference, the hope was always to use that experience to help people who were going through difficult times of their own and who were far less fortunate than I’ve been.
The five-year anniversary we’re celebrating this year really belongs to everyone who has supported us along the way. Every person who has donated money, toys, games, books, raffle prizes or simply shared what we do and helped spread the word has played a part in everything we’ve achieved.
Without the incredible support of our friends, family and the many brilliant local businesses who have backed us over the last five years, none of this would have been possible.
Now, I’m under no illusions here — I know we’re only a very small drop in a very large ocean.
What I do genuinely believe, though, is that in our own small way we are making a difference. Even if it’s only a modest contribution, we’re still part of something much bigger — a small but important cog in a much larger and very important machine.
And who knows — as we head into the second half of our very first decade, maybe it’s time to take things up another level. Maybe this is where the A Goldstitch Christmas movement finally goes properly viral.
The dream has always been to keep growing, reach more people, spread the word even further and encourage as many people as possible to get involved in whatever way they can. Because if the last five years have taught us anything, it’s that small acts of kindness from lots of people can add up to something pretty special.
This year, we decided we wanted everything we do to have a clear theme running through it all — something that really reflects what A Goldstitch Christmas is all about.
So, with a respectful nod to our very close personal friends in The Hoosiers, we’ve chosen the word Compassion as our theme for the year — inspired by the title of their recently released sixth album.
And honestly, it feels incredibly fitting. Every single person who has supported us over the last five years has done so because they care deeply about other people. Whether that’s through donations, fundraising, sharing posts, giving up their time or simply showing kindness, it has all been driven by compassion.
Because without that care for one another, what sort of world would we actually be living in?
“So how can I help?” I hear you ask. Conveniently, that’s a very easy question to answer — and there are loads of ways to get involved with A Goldstitch Christmas.
First of all, simply liking and sharing our posts makes a huge difference. Helping us spread the word, grow our following and introduce more people to what we do is the first important step on our carefully planned journey towards total world domination.
We also have our donations page, where you’ll find links to our JustGiving page, along with options to donate directly via links or QR codes. Whether it’s a little or a lot, every single penny genuinely helps and goes towards supporting the causes we care about.
Then there’s the merch! Our online store is steadily growing and is the perfect place to grab yourself some Goldstitch goodies, including t-shirts, mugs, sweatshirts, wristbands and plenty more besides. The range is always expanding too.
And let’s not forget the limited Anniversary Shindig posters featuring the highly sought-after signatures of The Hoosiers and future legends of British music, Haytor. Investments, obviously.
Keep an eye out as well for new events, raffles, competitions, sponsored challenges and plenty of other fundraising ideas throughout the year. And yes… someone definitely did say Kernow Killer.
