Monday 30 July 2018

It's the same old song

Not everything I can hear here is stuff I'd rather not. Late yesterday evening I realised the outside wind, and the rain, the bands playing live for the carnival celebrations, plus the avian, canine and human neighbours had all become more or less silent and I could sit with a chamomile tea and the window open listening to the waves breaking on the shore down the hill. Absolute bliss!

I give thanks for Reginald D Hunter's rather interesting Songs of the Border including actually playing the Mexico/US fence as an instrument. Also for catching up with Ben Fogle's trek across the Empty Quarter with James Cracknell, inspired by the travels of Wilfred Thesiger...and remembering reading his books with their wonderful photographs many years ago.

Today I give thanks the anaesthetic cream made blood taking less blood curdling and for standing my ground and insisting only the outstanding anaemia tests be done. They'll do all the others at the hospital next week anyway so why waste resources and my nerves? For the moist and mizzly weather dampening down the tourists so I could have a cuppa at Eastcliff and peer in between them to the murky view.


I have been very tired this afternoon and not done half the things I meant to. In the middle of half heartedly trying I had a sudden random urge to put down the task in hand and play my guitar. But you can't, I said to myself... Yes you can, I replied. And I did...more or less! Less well than I used to obviously, but much better than I have done since then so that it was more pleasure than pain. Well to me anyway... And I was playing a song I wrote half a lifetime ago so no one else would have known if it was reasonably recognisable or not. Maybe I fell asleep and dreamt it?


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