Whistling

Out unbearably early to meet Dug and wait for the delivery of hardcore. And blimey, it actually came on time. On time for me to watch it being delivered and leg it off for a music practice. A few of us are going to be scraping out a tune or two at the boat club Burns Supper, y’see. And most enjoyable it was though Jim & Rob are such seriously lovely musicians that it brought back why I gave the bloody thing up. Playing a tune? Tick. Done. Playing music? That’s something that requires an altogether higher level of accomplishment (sound of fiddle breaking over knee).