The Here & Now.

Moving on.

So - a personal blog isn't really my thing anymore. Read about me learning cello over on Fugue State, and my mum and I are starting a food blog called Aubergine & Eggplant. Leave a comment if you'd like to be updated when A&E launches.

Springing, finally

Oh, it's almost warm. So close. Some people are already shedding their tights but I'm not quite ready for that.

I counted the days wrong in my diary and I thought today would be the release from hormone-induced clumsiness, but it's not until Saturday. Which is not good timing because I'm wrestling with some intense deadlines at work and stressed out partners at home.

And I can not be getting all teary and upset when trying to input Greek and English texts for confusing contemporary classical music programmes. I just can't.

I'm in love

I love you beautiful shoes. Why do you have to cost so much though? Can't you just fly to me through the window?

Monday morning.

I never know what to do. When you're thinking about having a baby, but you're whole extended family seems annoyed and irritated with you for moving to another continent, even though things in the old country were stalled with no future in sight, and things here are good and open and full of future. What to do. Their needs are not your needs, but it feels churlish to ignore them.

But what do you say? I know you're feeling panicked and abandoned, but we're staying here anyway?

The pressure is mounting, and it feels like every holiday ever in the foreseeable future is being claimed by various arms of the family. I haven't spent a weekend alone with Christopher away from our flat in probably two years.

I think this would all be easier if they were horrible, selfish people, instead of loving and generous. It makes it all much worse.

And, secret confession: I've had my first viable idea for a novel. It makes sense and I like it, and even if no one reads it but Christopher, my mum and myself, I'll be fine. It involves some research. Very excited.

I miss vinyl

Historic moment: every Sunday I listened to Unwound's New Plastic Ideas, I was fourteen. It was formative.

No more pegbox photos please

So I've rediscovered the joy of well-written food blogs. That's the downside to writing a subject-specific blog about learning an instrument. It's not really filled with photo opportunities you see. There are only so many photos of my cello, my cello and a cup of tea, my music stand, etc I can post. Maybe it's my editor day job coming out, but I don't like images unrelated to the narrative posted at random. Maybe one day when I have a practise room with a window out to a beautiful garden I'll take a photo every time I practise. But that's not quite yet. 

Anyway, two new blog favourites are Delicious Days and Smitten Kitchen. Go, revel in their wonderfully up to date posts and photographs. 

Seasoned

I stood next to a puddle while the wind blew waves across it, but the sun was warm enough to make me look up at it squinting. It's properly, almost, spring.