Saturday 21 January 2012

If I could only have some hot water

My kitchen is FULL of amps, guitars and drums, coils of wire and tangles of wire, as we try to re-organise the music room, the rehearsal room, the room with so many years of dust, beer stains and coffee spills. Notice the beer never gets spilled... Great vats of soup for the workers (i.e various band members from various bands who can turn their hand to carpentry and heaving heavy equipment) and various drop ins, long haired drummer, round guitarists etc friendly birds of prey ready to rescue anything we're chucking out, and our lovely Alan doing the electrics, all delighted at soup and bread and freebies. Pandeflippymonium!

And, the water heater by sink has been broken for weeks. Had engineer in twice. He’s coming back today. He’s never seen one of these machines before… He gets the hot water going and it runs really well. He turns off the tap, I sign a thingy and out he goes. Ten minutes later I turn on the tap and no hot water…
Today I’ll lead him through the maze of musical/sound stuff and MAKE HIM HAVE A CUP OF TEA (white, lots of sugar, no doubt) and then try the tap again. To prove that it's not the way I do it. Is it?
Hey ho.

Got a bouzouki to try out. It's sitting on the kitchen table and now and then I get it out have a strum and put it back. Words and airs keep floating through my head. And just now, I read a poem written by a Padre, during the war. It's not a famous poem, it's possibly even twee, but I tell you what... it made me cry.

Off to the gym.

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