29 November 2017 is the date I started my blog, initially as an expressive outlet for some of the myriad thoughts whirling incessantly round my head. My intention was to attempt to attract people that were interested in my music and the life of a freelance musician to my website. Just over a year later, in one of my now regular stock takes and decluttering episodes, it’s become apparent that quite a few people enjoy reading what I write.
My blog has already served its purpose in that I’m able to express in writing far more quickly and clearly what I most often struggle to shrink down into spoken words. This has helped me in more ways than I imagined possible.
My style of writing is instinctive, emotional and creative so if it’s grammatically immaculate facts your after (pun intended), this probably won’t be your thing. If you want an intuitive and occasionally indulgent written meander in colourful language whilst picking up a few pebbles to skim over the surface of that stream water, let’s jump in - the water’s quite nice.
Tonight I have no idea which direction this new page will take. All I know is that it’s a journey I’m ready to explore. Coming with me? What are we waiting for?
I’ve started a writing course, just for fun and as an experiment, and to get me out of the house and around people. I’m really enjoying it so I’ll be writing for 15 minutes a day whenever possible and publishing my writing there and then, unedited. Images will probably be random and unrelated to the content. Any feedback most welcome!
The freshly washed laundry billows gently in the breeze. Pristine planters brimming with seasonal blooms adorn the sage green wooden fence. A hula hoop hangs casually over a small wooden hut, a construction that belonged to my previous next door neighbours, handed down to my neighbours 2 doors down for Jo’s first grandson, Theo. A selection of jumbo vehicles are strewn higgledy piggledy along the astroturf, stalled for the time being after a bout of bumper truck fun and games. The swing is motionless, begging to fulfil its purpose. The door to the cat enclosure is open. I wonder where it is. I often hear its loud pedigree vocalises. Next to it is a pop up greenhouse, its flimsy plastic walls concealing its contents.
I look up to see small hills half a mile away, reaching up towards the puffy silver white clouds. A buzzard circles way up high, lazily using the thermals to pursue potential prey. Thick patches of dark green trees punctuate the landscape. A sequence of telegraph poles join wires, connecting, communicating.
It’s been an interesting day. Up at 5.30 sharp, I had an important therapy session at 9.30 and I wanted to get an arm and shoulder workout done before I left. Ouch. No pain no gain and I know how important it is to maintain muscle at my age. I often put off arm and shoulder day because it takes a couple of days for my muscles to recover and I need them to do their work so that I can do mine. I’ve been craving protein. Food is a massive preoccupation and is definitely masking something. It’s become beyond foodie level. It’s about survival I think. And that’s ok. I’m not a great cook but what I make is edible, bordering on tasty and it’s definitely cooked with that secret ingredient – love. I haven’t, to my knowledge, killed anyone yet. I absolutely love it though. Chopping cures, hacking heals, mixing mends, whisking whets the appetite and I’m hungry again!
Therapy was hard work. I felt drained afterwards and that’s a sign of progress and learning. We touched on some very deep issues (paternal abandonment/toxic mother) and how I keep falling into the same black hole, or maybe stumbling pretty damn close to the hole. I managed to escape again. I have so much trust and respect for my therapist. She’s a real gift. The hour flies and my head is full of thoughts all the way home.
I did 1.5 hours decent practice then slept for the same amount of time. Sleep is top of the list at the moment and last week I indulged in my fair share, making the most of my innate ability to power nap. At the moment I could sleep all day. Last week was difficult. I felt very low and that’s part of the process. It’s also knowing that the lows won’t last forever. This depression is different from past depressions. It feels like a protective numbness and I’m able to function but it doesn’t feel like full on technicolour life. I know from experience that the depression is here to teach me a lesson. I need to process and express. I need to grieve but there are no tears.
I get my emails done promptly and I practice diligently although some days fighting the fog is impossible and I give up and carry on with something else. I know tomorrow I can be in the zone again. I used to be able to memorise easily. These days it’s an impossibility. My brain is like an overfilled hard drive.
I teach a bit, not much but it’s enough to keep me ticking over and I like helping my students. I’ve had a couple of enquiries for lessons and I will give trial lessons after Easter. I’m not ready to meet new people yet.
I’m tentatively planning mentally stimulating activities. I really want to try a creative writing course but the reviews for the local college are uninspiring. I emailed and called them at the end of last year and received no response. After a Google search today, I found a weekly course in town so I filled in the form and we’ll see what happens. Even though it sometimes feels as though I’m merely going through the motions, exercise is ingrained already (it’s aerial hammock yoga tomorrow night, yippee!) but I could do with another activity to engage me mentally and creatively.
Doing the walk of life
I’m visiting friends in London at the end of April and in Lincolnshire mid May, and A and I have just booked a group walk in the Lakes so that’s exciting. Somethings to look forward to and to dread in equal measure. I manage my anxiety. Being extremely early is super useful. Except when it isn’t. I had a podiatrist appointment in town a couple of weeks ago and arrived 1.5 hours early (don’t!) as I was worried about missing my appointment, finding the place and whether I’d need to arrange to have my car moved if I couldn’t drive due to cortisone injections. The appointment lasted 20 minutes and I was given insoles which should improve my Morton’s Neuroma so all that worry was for nothing. I’m to go back if it gets worse and then they’ll do an ultrasound and maybe injections. Phew.
When I got back from visiting my family in Wales, a white envelope awaited and I knew already it’d be trouble. It was a fine for not paying the full amount for the time I was parked at the infirmary. I hadn’t realised I should have paid from the moment I drove in. £60! I contested it and they generously reduced it to £25 to cover the admin fee but still… I could have parked for free on the street outside the clinic premises! I’m glad I don’t do much city driving these days – I’d spend my fee in fines. And therapy.
And I’m not going to fight it. I have no energy. My joints and muscles ache and my head can take only 3 chapters of a simple book. And that’s ok. And please don’t interrogate me on those 3 chapters! This won’t last forever. It’s a necessary part of the creative cycle. Just being.
I’m going to see if I can cook. This could take some time!
I find myself blessed with the unexpected gift of a few spare hours today. Our 10 mile walk turned into a torrid 2 mile outing, thwarted by raindrops that pelted like glass bullets, buffeted and bulldozed by a wind strong enough to knock down a small child. Suddenly alone again, our dialogues abridged due to adverse conditions, I thought I’d share what I’ve been up to the first week of the year.
It’s a notoriously difficult time of year in the northern hemisphere for sufferers of SAD, and I am one of them. The lack of daylight and poor weather conditions make going out an act of sheer willpower, requiring a steely determination so as not to be engulfed by maudlin thoughts and melancholy moods. Knowing the 2nd of January was upon me, I decided it’d be a good idea to try a few new things. I booked myself on my first ever webinar. It was a creative workshop led by the wonderfully inspiring Liz Gilbert whose books and podcasts I have enjoyed immensely. A gifted storyteller, she’s an enthralling speaker too. Her ideas on creativity and inspiration were encouraging and realistic and my main takeaway, other than to be completely uncritical of any creative ideas and inspiration that arise in me, is to show up every day regardless of whether I’m in the mood. The muse will show me a sign when it’s time. I love that. Just keep doing the work.
Of course this opened me up to a whole world of permissive possibilities and I’ve been having fun with my reading, writing and playing since Monday night ❤️❤️❤️
Next up was a mission to find a new source of fitness motivation. I have Morton’s neuroma (a nerve problem) in both feet but it’s worse in my left foot. I’m petrified of having the cortisone injections which may or may not alleviate the condition, let alone the surgery which was recommended to me as another option. 6 weeks off my feet and it might or might not work? Ummmm… I also want to improve my upper body strength and balance. So I looked into a small group activity locally which would get me off my feet, quite literally. I found an aerial/hammock yoga class less than 15 minutes drive away. It was the first session on Wednesday night and I’m hooked!
We warmed up gently, hammocks dangling temptingly from sturdy looking chunks of scaffolding riveted to the ceiling. I watched with fascination as the others inverted themselves with ease and thought I’ll NEVER manage that. Over I went and lo and behold, I didn’t tumble gracelessly to the shiny pine floor, entangled in the swinging sling. I couldn’t stop silently gasping as I surrendered my body to the force of gravity. It was such an incredible feeling. I learned about trust on Wednesday night.
The studio was cold but not uncomfortably so and I was equipped with multiple layers and gloves and socks just in case. The subtle purple lighting lent a comforting darkroom warmth to the space and I couldn’t make out my classmates’ faces or expressions, another good thing – they wouldn’t be able to see me clearly either! Anonymity whilst exercising is a bonus.
An hour flew as we did some flows. The session ended and I eased myself into the silken cocoon of the hammock much like a pupa, preparing to do the relaxation exercise, readying myself for the big wide world again. I hugged myself and caressed my arms. Self love comes in many guises but who knew it could come to me in a repurposed mill in Milnsbridge on a cold rainy Wednesday night in January?
My final new “toy” for the week was signing up for a creative writing course. I tried to enrol on a class at the local college but the lack of communication inspired me to believe this path may not have been for me. Gareth (my long suffering friend and business coach) suggested I try a course with the Centre of Excellence, and here I am! So something must have shifted?
Abandoned walk participants – these things happen for a reason An hour later!
I laid down in the attic this afternoon after doing a core and abs session (strong back required). I looked up at the sky and I felt truly content. I get goosebumps writing that. I believe this is the reason why:
Under armour
I went for a run this morning. It was cool and sunny and I absorbed the rays and the beauty lavished before me deep into my core. I had a perfect day. Beautiful gentle harp practice with no fighting or control. I listened and I felt in flow with everything all day. I am so grateful.
I’m about a quarter of the way through restringing my harp. It’s having a much needed service next month and new strings help with that. I’m also hoping fresh gut, nylon and wire will inspire me to do some practice, and maybe even enjoy playing a few pieces I love simply for my own pleasure. Focus is challenging with so many distractions but I aim for hour long blocks in the morning and 30 minutes later in the day. The long days with so much more daylight can be confusing and it’s definitely siesta season – olé!
I went for a walk late morning to pick up a dress from the seamstress and drop some stuff at the tip. Straightforward right? Take less than an hour I thought. Just past Morrisons I saw what looked like a ditched mobile case on the floor. It turned out to be a phone. I paused and looked around – there was nobody to be seen. I decided to pick it up and put it on the Facebook lost and found. 10 minutes later the phone rang. I replied. It was the sister of the woman who’d lost it. She explained where she was, what she was wearing (a purple fleece and green bag) and I told her I’d turn back to meet her. 5 minutes later the phone rang again. This time it was the owner. She sounded emotional and relieved in equal measure. I told her I’d come to meet her. I waited somewhat impatiently. I was getting hungry. There was no sign. The phone rang again – where are you? I told her I was waiting where she said she’d be. Oh no, you weren’t there so now I’m on the steps here. Did she think I was Wonder Woman, able to fly? I’m not a slow walker but I’m not THAT fast. After a few minutes I saw a woman wearing a green fleece carrying a purple bag walking towards me looking ecstatic and I knew I’d found the phone’s rightful owner. She started to explain what had happened. She was with her grandson, got distracted putting his coat on and the phone fell out of her unzipped bag. She was beyond delighted to retrieve her lost property. She told me I was heaven sent that day (😇) which I thought was a slight exaggeration but there might be a grain of truth in that, just today mind you. Then she asked me her name, told me hers and said that she was Ukrainian. She went on to talk about god and religion and how she was a Jehovah’s Witness and she asked me to take a card and look up the QR code on it to find out more about the faith. I obliged, thanking her although I felt awkward. I’m not interested. She thanked me again so sincerely and gave me a hug and we went our separate ways. As I passed the bin near where I found the mobile, I deposited the card in it and put the entire episode behind me. I can take people like that into my day and I didn’t need it. So why am I writing this? I suppose I felt bad for throwing away the card which had so much significance for her. I’d want someone to return my mobile to me if I lost it but I wouldn’t try to converting them to my ways. Now that really would be a travesty.
The moral of the story? Do unto others but expect nothing in return. Amen!
I started walking properly in November 2017. I’ve come a fair way on my journey since then and I’m definitely fitter and in better health than ever now I’m in my early 50’s. Given the choice between an hour outdoors or an hour of Netflix, the outdoors wins every time. I’m hooked!
5 years ago, I smoked 30 cigarettes a day and I was an emotional binge drinker. Nowadays I’d say my only vice is vaping and I’m determined to wave goodbye to that nasty habit this year. When I stopped drinking I developed a sweet tooth but I undertook an Ayurvedic cleanse designed by Sue Cowlishaw in April and haven’t had a binge since. I’ve had the odd bit of home baked cake during a walk mind you – the calories burn off pretty quickly out on the hills.
Hills glorious hills
The hills. Oh those hills! After every single walk I feel slightly different than when I set off. I often feel transformed after a long walk, as though I’ve lost something but gained in other areas. It’s hard to explain. It’s as though I leave a part of me where I’ve walked and integrate part of the place I’m walking inside me. I can always tell if my mood is low – on these days I can’t “see” anything – my focus is internal, my brow furrowed, my gaze directed downwards.
Walking has the knack of lifting my gaze though. Walking is amazing! Walking is therapeutic. I went for a walk after dinner on Wednesday night. It had rained all day and I’d all but abandoned hope for the evening treat I’d been looking forward to all day. At 7pm the rain suddenly ceased. I seized my opportunity. I’d already decided where I was going and I knew the first mile or so was a steady climb, easing off after that. I got to the top and had a fit of the giggles as the endorphins kicked in. I absorbed the plenitude of the feast spread out all around me, the luscious grass a purer shade of green after the rain. The lapwings kewed their yearning plaintive cries. The colours change dramatically by the end of May – the trees are full and thick, dark and weighty with foliage.
Last night I walked alone and I equally enjoy walking with friends. It’s a different experience. I walk with my friends Gareth and Sue at least once a fortnight. There’s a different energy walking with others. We walk at a similar pace and Sue is very strong on the ascents. Gareth does his own thing and about 3/4 of the way through a walk, he seems to find his inner accelerator pedal and zooms ahead, sitting waiting for us nonchalantly on a clump of gorse. We enjoy meaningful conversation and return to our internal dialogue whenever the mood takes us.
I was much slower when we started walking together and I’d get frustrated at being left behind, so I practiced walking faster on my own instead of dawdling and now I’m able to keep up and catch up after getting distracted by photogenic moments, quite often featuring the remains of dead animals which fascinate me and to whom I pay my respects to honour their beauty – I momentarily mourn the loss of a precious life.
A couple of weeks ago we tackled Black Hill again. Those two words used to fill me with fear. It’s a hill you can see on your left from the A635 from Holmfirth to Manchester and it’s always swathed in a shroud of darkness. I asked walkers I met how far Black Hill was and whether it was difficult to climb. It became almost mythical to me, the introverted little Welsh girl who hardly walked anywhere 5 years ago, not even to the local shop half a mile away.
One day I set off, determined to reach the summit of Black Hill. I allocated significantly more time than I needed. I packed way more gear than necessary, more plasters and tissues than I’d ever get through in case of calamity, and more snacks, coffee and water than I could consume. Better safe than sorry. I decided that the services of Mountain Rescue would not be required that day. I reassured myself I could have as many breaks as I wanted. Want them I did as I approached the steep section before the brow of the hill.
An itinerant trio
Black Hill is probably 3.5 miles from my house but in my mind it might as well have been 35 miles. It feels like a different world up there, especially once you pass the second stream – the main road home seems an awful long way away. Arriving at the trig point was quite an achievement on my walking journey and I now look forward to any opportunity to go up there again. The views are spectacular.
When I walk with Gareth and Sue we always congregate for 15 minutes before setting off, just to catch up and check in with how we’re all doing. That sets a good tone for the walk – we look out for each other and the motto is “we start together and finish together”. Nobody gets left behind. There’s plenty of cheerful banter during the first mile, then I go quiet as I have to really focus on getting up the first climb. My breath becomes laboured, which used to embarrass me but now I realise most people get breathless going up. After about 20 minutes our mood becomes giddy as the endorphins kick in – you can’t buy that at Aldi.
I always notice the birds. We often see kestrels, owls, buzzards and the occasional sparrowhawk and in late spring there are plenty of lapwings, curlews and oystercatchers as well as the irritatingly invisible cuckoos. The young lambs are starting to lose their newborn cuteness but there’s something about seeing new growth at this time of year that never fails to fill you with optimism and a sense of possibility.
Exactly a year ago I completed my longest walk to date – the Yorkshire Three Peaks. That was an unforgettable experience and it has to be the highlight of 2021. I was well prepared and I’d been training physically and mentally for a couple of months. Gareth Boot mentored my adventure, planning every detail meticulously. Whenever I started to stress about the walk I remembered his words – it’s a mile 25 times. That helped with any overwhelm. Having a fixed fitness goal was extremely motivating. Add to that the fact that I was walking with my team and I certainly didn’t want to let anyone down so I took it very seriously. I was quite sure I could manage 25 miles, less so the 4,000 feet of ascent since uphill walking isn’t my forté.
Well, we did it and in a good time too, under 10 hours. There were obstacles on the way. In my giddiness at walking up the first peak and after seeing the sun rise from the top of Ingleborough in the most spectacular manner, I ran a little after we got down, stumbled and hurtled to the ground. Blood was lost, bruises bloomed and most critically, I lost most of my precious water, but there was no way that was going to stop me. I should have blogged about this walk. Now there’s a thought. Stay tuned…
Sunrise from Ingleborough
The best thing about being outdoors is connecting with nature. The energy out there is incredible and you can take it with you into the next few days.
I was always averse to exercise. I had a few avid bouts of swimming and I love being in the water but I’m not a particularly strong swimmer and for some reason I never stuck it out. I went to the pool religiously before the pandemic but the pool closures put paid to that good habit and I’m wary of going back in case the chlorine aggravates my psoriasis, another covid legacy. So exercise didn’t come naturally. I wasn’t a sporty child and we lived a mile from the nearest town so we drove everywhere. Walking wasn’t a thing. I was never much good at PE and garnered an unfortunate nickname at school which left me slightly traumatised! I’m sure you’ve all had moments when you wished the ground had swallowed you whole. I had one of mine in a gym class. I feel very uncomfortable in gyms to this day but I now have some decent weights and equipment in my attic to help strengthen my body. That’s my responsibility, not the NHS’s!
Why walk? It’s a great form of exercise, it works wonders for all aspects of your health, it’s accessible to most people, and all you need is a decent pair of walking shoes (trainers are fine for shorter distances), a waterproof jacket, curiosity and a spirit of adventure! You can’t really get lost, all you have to do is turn around and retrace your steps. I’ve discovered so many fantastic walks from my doorstep and there are many more to discover. Go on, the outdoors is right there waiting for you. It could change your life!
At last! I’m away in the morning and it seems like morning will never come! It’s been the longest day and I got shit loads done – did an 8.5 mile trot in the warmth but left later than planned due to technical issues. My phone’s playing up (look at that for timing – 48 hours before I go up to deepest darkest rural Northumberland with a slightly decrepit car) and I pressed reset last night in a vain attempt to resolve the issue, which prompted a whole host of new issues and it took me a while to put everything back in place as best as I could this morning. Most important was linking my watch to my phone so I could log my miles and see my stats. Meltdown!!! I did it though so kudos Rare Bit. Off I went on my trot:
A budding beginning
After a quick temperature check in my back yard I decided it was bloody cold so took way too many layers which I promptly peeled off after half a mile. It was the kind of weather you could stay out in all day. I didn’t have all day but a long list of to dos and I made a hasty retreat after 4 miles. I always worry about getting up the last steep section but I don’t know why. I always manage it. I might run out of water and get heatstroke after twisting an ankle. I didn’t. I’m also struggling a bit with my new shoes, they’re about half a size too small and my toes bang uncomfortably against the front on my favourite descents. This is the downside to buying online I suppose. Despite some discomfort and mild cramp, it was difficult not to dawdle and I tried calling mam as an excuse to stay out longer. No signal. Blast it.
Location location – no signal but wanted mam to close her eyes and hear the stream
I threw the dirty laundry in the wash and got on with the biggest task – mowing the lawn, AKA making hay while the sun shone. It took about 30 minutes longer than planned as I weeded too but it looks better and any burglars will at least see I take care of my garden. I pegged the laundry on the line and had a 30 minute rest on the sofa before resuming my activities.
What next? Food prep obviously after a quick shower. Maybe they don’t have food in Northumberland? Of course they do, and they definitely have fish and chips, Mr Whippy and hot fresh sausage rolls, but I had some leftovers to cook and a few basics to take to my self catering cottage. I’m keen to keep to my new healthy eating routine while I’m on holiday – this morning I’d lost a few ounces and that felt so positive! I’m so excited about going away but the run up to leaving is always a quasi ridiculous farce worthy of a scene in a sitcom. Instead of relaxing I find a million things to do and you know what? I haven’t even packed! But that won’t take long. I’m taking my yoga mat and some basic equipment as well as candles and bath salts. Yes! There’s a bathtub and the weather forecast is so poor I might spend most of my time in it!
I played for a wedding yesterday a couple of hours away. I’m often asked why I leave so early and yesterday was further proof to justify my near neurosis. The motorway was shut for 4 junctions and the diversion added a palpitant 30 miles to my trip. I was still on time so neuroses have their uses. Maybe it was the warm weather. Maybe the venue? Or perhaps the fact that I have so much to look forward to and be grateful for but I had the best time playing I’ve had in years, quite literally. I was just in the zone. No inner critic (she was probably knackered from all the ranting at the motorway symbols 🔼⏺️🔽◀️⁉️⁉️⁉️) and I didn’t question my ability or ineptitude or need to reassure myself with reminders of my years of training and experience. It’s a great feeling that. I’d forgotten and I know I can’t chase it. It’s there or it isn’t.
And it was.
A pinker shade of white and carefree in the hills for a couple of hours Playtime. I can just imagine dragging this down to the stream – what fun that would be!
Last Wednesday saw my last shift at the local convenience shop where I’ve been working part time for over 3 years. Little did I know that what started as an interim job to support my harp business would become a lifesaver during the unexpected (understatement!) pandemic. I thought I’d be there 6 months max. Music can be a solitary career and one of the best aspects of working in food retail is human contact. There’s no better feeling than cheering someone up with a simple “good morning, how are you?” when they entered the shop on a gloomy Monday and, when the work got tough, I made that my aim. It occasionally got me in trouble as I wasn’t as efficient and I wasn’t paid to chit chat, but I couldn’t help myself. From my experience, people will always remember great customer service – I believed it would encourage them to come back for more, spend more time and money in the shop. Some customers were clearly in a hurry and in no mood for conversation so I tailored my service accordingly. I learnt a huge amount during my time there, mainly how to read people and how never to take things personally. The job helped me overcome my introversion and shyness and in many ways, as soon as I put on my burgundy and orange uniform, I stepped into character, a faster moving quicker thinking lighter brighter funnier version of me. It was knackering but I always worked a better shift with an attitude of gratitude.
I noticed I lost some of my imagination and my sense of humour since I turned 50 and I was less cheerful and happy go lucky. Life’s events were starting to get to me and I couldn’t face reading the news or keeping up with current affairs. It started to affect my performance and I became less tolerant and more impatient.
It became clear during the past 4 months that I was going to have to make a decision as things started to open up again and the enquiries for background music and harp lessons thickened. Mum wasn’t well before Christmas and her health is deteriorating as befits an 86 year old woman, so I wanted the freedom to be able to go to Wales at the drop of a hat if I was needed to support my busy sister.
It’s Monday and a week ago I was more than half way through an 8 hour shift. Everything happened so fast! Management had been extremely accommodating of my attempts to try and balance my life. I requested a sabbatical and then my circumstances changed again so I handed in my resignation. There’s the added complication of steering my way through the menopause. My experience is that it affects my mood and food along with plenty of brain fog. I have hot anger, a murderous rage which boils up uncontrollably at a breathtaking rate that took me by surprise and made me quite concerned. I’ve been taking HRT for about 5 months and I haven’t really felt any benefit. Having more time to myself now will allow me to have greater awareness and more space to manage my mood swings.
As for food, well, there must be a phenomenon around this. Being surrounded by groceries but unable to eat any became almost unbearable. Despite my best intentions there were times I couldn’t help but snatch a brown paper bag of cookies in passing the bakery section, putting it in my basket beside the yellow stickered bag of spinach and pack of courgettes after my shift, a “treat”, a “reward” for the mental torture I’d endured for the past 8 hours. I’d be fine until midday, then every pre-packed triangle sandwich became the object of my desire. I’d have eaten cheese I was so hungry, and I’d just had my break and my oats, fruit AND coffee. I had an apple and a banana in my bag but they were of no interest. I needed sugar and carbs and lots of them, and fast!
Back in the safety of my car I’d have one cookie, then another and another until the entire pack was gone in the space of 2 minutes. Did I enjoy it? I didn’t consider evaluating. It was all about pushing my feelings of frustration down.
Half a stone heavier (I can really feel this when I run), I learnt that addiction to music is a damn sight better for me than food and having resumed my practice routine yesterday, I wake up with my head full of notes again and ideas for fingerings which would improve the quality of the music. My shoulders have dropped about 10cm and today my technique is in fine working order. My students pop up into my head too, and I find myself thinking of ways I could help them with their musical challenges. I’m able to reply to enquiries quickly and draft contracts as soon as I need them. I like this fresh start, I like it a lot.
Tonight I’m going to Pilates class, I haven’t been since lockdown started. I couldn’t face going back out after a 7-15 shift in the winter months but I know how important it is to me not to self isolate now and to be around people on a regular basis. Who knows, I might join a running club and if I’m too slow, perhaps I’ll set up a speed hiking group.
Last night, I booked myself a holiday. This is a great big massive deal for me. I’ve only really stayed in chain hotels for work purposes, promising myself that I’d return to the area one day to spend some quality time. So at the end of the month I’m off to the North East for 4 nights to celebrate my new found freedom. I found a little cottage in an idyllic rural location with plenty of long hilly walks. The sea is about an hour away so I’ll spend a day there exploring Bamburgh, Alnwick, the Farne Islands, Boulmer and Craster, and I’ll drive back home along the coast, stopping in places I’ve always wanted to visit. Watch this space for some holiday blogging… And I’m already planning my foreign foray!
Rare Bit Blogging 