Thursday, February 18, 2010
The hills are alive
My friend Elisabeth popped in yesterday; she is older than me but celebrated her 60th birthday a few years ago by cycling all over Viet Nam; to top that she has just come back from 3 months skiing in the Alps. It makes me tired just to think about it. We discussed all of my medical adventures including having loads of my right lung burnt away and the subsequent need for some pulmonary rehab.
I was dipping my head ready to be bowed down by get on your bike type suggestions when she came up with a brilliant idea: play the recorder. I am not sure anyone from my old school reads this blog; the friends I kept are all a bit IT resistant but if they were reading they would by now have booked tickets to far flung places. I was not a natural musician and didn't get much further than "My dame hath a lame tame crane" on my standard school instrument. It is strange as my kids were, or in Joe's case still are, performing musicians and Sam can still get a passable tune out of the Swannie whistle we drag out at Christmas; his piece de resistance is the theme from Ski Sunday; try it just try it!
So on the way to the hairdressers this afternoon, still no clump falls, I am going to track down a music shop and buy a recorder and a song book. Our next door neighbours are moving on Friday which is probably a good thing for them under the circumstances but Elisabeth did initially suggest singing so to my new neighbours,I will say, things could definitely be a lot worse.