idle ramblings

You can tell a folkie can't you. They have a certain look. It's essentially a kind of lolling posture combined with a self satisfied smirk.

That sounds derogatory, but really I am full of admiration for those guys who sit in the corner of the pub and play so loosely and freely. To be able to play like that would be the only reason I would ever take up the violin. I learnt to play my musical instruments from written music and I have never been able shake off those shackles and play from ear. It's a shame.

I was contemplating this after a very nice evening out in Glasgow with Steph and Rosie on Saturday. We sat for the majority of the night in a smoke-free pub with the afore-mentioned folkies noodling away in the background.

In my opinion the smoking ban in Scotland is excellent but for one major drawback. The absence of all that stinky smoke leaves opportunity for other noxious odours to creep forth. Think room full of men drinking beer and eating nuts... Not nice, I can tell you. Still, the odd burst of fart is miles better than constant cigarettes, and my clothes didn't smell all farty in the morning either.

On Sunday I went to watch Nick play his French horn in an orchestra concert in Stirling. It was nice to actually be able to see him as well as hear him. The last concert I went to, Nick was sitting right behind a big stone pillar and I could only see his left elbow.

Oh, and on Friday I sold my house in Sheffield. What a relief! No more worries about damp patches or leaky roofs or complaining tenants. Just a nice fat cheque in the bank. Thanks to everyone who helped out with the house while we were away, especially Jane and Phil - cheers guys, drinks are on me next weekend.