Once again apologies for not writing for a while. The February weather has thrown all sorts at us. I'm sitting outside in the sun today in only a few layers. Last week this would have not been possible. There were days of snow and river was icing over with ice even on the inside of the boat some mornings, although the stove had stayed alight overnight. The week before was another reasonably balmy one for February. We never seem to know from week to week what to expect although, to be fair, I probably would if I bothered to consult a weather forecast more often. Sadly the stove fan (sometimes referred to as an eco-fan) has not worked this season. I thought I would have to buy another one, but in typical fashion I haven't got round to it though it seems mine could be repaired. Today, before writing this letter I followed the instructions on a YouTube video after purchasing something called "thermal paste". So far it hasn't worked ... oh well.
While I think about it, I'm going to add a link to a long-time friend's blog. He writes beautifully about his daily walks near his home in this third period of lockdown and he has a way with a camera too. His blog contains many stunning kingfisher photographs, which I am unlikely to be able to produce for these occasional letters. Maybe if I bought a camera ...
To other matters, I have not picked up an instrument for several months and I have found writing and composing very difficult. Recording anything has been impossible. It feels so selfish and indulgent to admit that I have been feeling low when people have been dying from the effects of this wretched virus. The depressive funk is why I suspect I have found it difficult to make some music. However, for the past week I have been able to make a point of playing something pretty much every day. After not playing for about four months my fingers have been stiff and tender, but I am gradually toughening up. Surprisingly I can remember the lyrics and chords of most of my songs as well as the drum rhythms and harmonica parts, so I suppose things could be worse.
At a single day's notice I was invited to travel twenty-five miles to and twenty-five miles from a hospital for the first of my covid vaccinations. I wasn't expecting to be summoned for another couple of months, but it appears the hospital got through its own list so quickly and efficiently that it was able to start relieving other nearby centres of their lists of patients. The jab took place in something now called "The Inspire Centre", although I don't know what sort of inspiration is likely to be forthcoming. This is a building in the grounds of the hospital and I have been there two or three times before, albeit many years ago. In those days it was a social club for the hospital staff and my band played a number of ceilidhs there. The room looked much the same, but was obviously set out very differently. The whole experience was surprisingly painless. Given a choice I suppose I would have opted for the AstraZeneca product, but no choice was offered. I have been jabbed with the Pfizer vaccine. If the covid sceptics were worried about Microsoft nanobots entering their systems I was rather hoping that a German jab would improve my ability to speak German. Sadly it hasn't, but the hospital staff, and presumably volunteers, were very efficient, jolly and kind. There were a lot a smiles. though I imagine that many of the paid staff must be almost exhausted through having to deal with so many very sick people, deaths and bereavements over the past year. I was given a paper listing possible side-effects of the vaccine. More than a week later none of these have been manifest. There wasn't even any discomfort at the injection site on my arm, so I've no real excuse to stop playing.
Given the improvement in the weather again this week, I am feeling more inclined to spend time outdoors. Who knows, maybe I'll even attempt a walk for some exercise ... mañana.
I did take a walk from the farm to the road a few days ago and clearly spring is in prospect. Snowdrops have been out for weeks and the daffodils are pushing through. Within weeks, the river banks through the village will be a carpet of daffodil yellow.
The struggle with the new laws on the waterway continues. I am pleased that my local MP has taken the trouble to pass my letters on to the navigation authority who have steadfastly refused to answer some of my more difficult questions, but at least he is communicating with me and is receiving a response from the authority. An update as to where we are might be due at some point.
A friend sent me a link to the Culture Matters website suggesting I might want to submit a song to something called the Bread and Roses Songwriting and Spoken Word Award 2021. I do have a couple of songs that would fit the remit, but competitions and awards ... seriously? They have never been my thing. I suppose if I do decide to submit anything, the songs might be heard by a few more people. I did have a nice surprise this week when another longstanding friend, Jane Clayton, selected me as one of her "featured artists" on her West Norfolk Radio broadcast. That meant that three songs from "Head Above Water" were played back-to-back four times this week. It's a simple thing, but it pleases me.
So back to reality. Another friend is having a 60th birthday celebration this evening. A party would be wonderful, but it is another Zoom meeting. The sun is beginning to sink towards the horizon and the wind is getting up. I think it may be time for a late lunch and I need to press my party frock for tonight.
Thank you once again, dear kingfisher, for continuing to brighten my days in every way possible.
Love and best wishes as always,
marsh
