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Don't Eat With Your Mouth Full

Where can we live but days?

Recorder Workout
tree_face
steepholm
I always keep a recorder handy when I'm working. When I'm stuck for ideas, I often find that a bit of jamming on a descant really helps me think (while robbing anyone nearby of that capacity, sadly, but what are you going to do?). It's been that way for a long time - roughly since I gave up recorder lessons at primary school. My favourite instrument is a pear-wood one that I bought when my father died, but the plastic Aulos range gets a workout, too.

My daughter sometimes expresses wry exasperation that my one superpower is apparently the ability to play any tune by ear on the recorder, just the format in which no one would want to hear it, and I admit that the situation does seem to bear the fingerprints of a vindictive fate. People are sometimes intrigued by my party trick, but they don't stay intrigued for long: a distinct air of "You have delighted us long enough" typically settles in by the second minute. That's okay, I only play for myself, really, and, as I say, to help jiggle my neurons into more cooperative constellations.

I've had a bad cold for the last few days, which is very frustrating as this is a rare non-teaching week and I'd had it earmarked for all kinds of useful tasks, which are now proceeding only at a snail's pace. In these circumstances, after writing about Lolly Willowes and Madoka yesterday, it seemed a fun idea to play Kyubey's invitation to the world of magic, Salve, Terrae Magicae, with a black cat on my lap. So I did. (Breathing was a problem, of course.)