When I woke up this morning I was surprised at how much light was coming in through my bedroom window must have overslept, I thought. I padded off along the lobby and into the bathroom shaved, shower then padded on into the living room airing cupboard to find some clean clothes to wear. Looking up at the clock I was surprised to find it was still only 8.30 am the days are starting to draw out. On opening the blinds however it was still February. The weather outside my window was atrocious, high winds buffeting the trees and popping out for a paper, the rain driving along by the wind was cold as ice, another day off the bike. The weather has been so bad over the past days that I have hardly moved from the house, not even bothering to go along to the common room and onto the internet.
When I lived in Elie my sister lived next door, very handy, we would look after one another, go shopping together, to conferences and day or weekend trips together but still have our own space.
My sister was a knitter, I mean that seriously, you hardly ever seen her without a pair of knitting needles in her hand, along with a book, which she would read as she knitted. Our taste in books was quite similar, so if either read a book they thought the other would like we passed it on, normally it would be from Irene to me, she ate books at a phenomenal rate, I plodded.
I remember her coming in with Larsson’s book, “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” this would have been around the late 1990s, I think you will like this she told me. I could not put it down.
Two other Stieg Larsson books were to follow, “The Girl that Played with Fire” and “The Girl that Kicked the Hornets Nest” (Larsson died without seeing his work in print, he died in November 2004, after handing in his manuscripts).
At the weekend I had the mad urge to spring clean and started in the bedroom cupboard, there I found a large box and dragged it out. It was an odd collection of stuff I had put there when I cleared out my sister flat on her demise. Looking at it now, I wondered why I had kept such stuff, there was nothing of any value but must have meant something to me at the time. Amongst the odds and sods were the Larsson trilogy of books and three DVDs made later of the books.
That is as far as the spring cleaning went.
Like their fist reading I could not put them down, only stopping when my belly started to cry out,
“When are we going to eat?”
Or my eyes could no longer focus on the words. The clock has no meaning for me, I ate when I had to and went to bed when I could no longer concentrate on my reading. Now will come the withdrawal symptoms, no matter what I pick up it will seem dull and uninteresting after such a rip-roaring journey.
My ‘I Scot’ magazine dropped behind the door
I read the Dinwookie Interview of Aly Bain, of Shetland fiddling fame. I was surprised to hear that he never learned to read music. Back in the early days of Folk clubs around the UK, there was a twosome called the Corries,
They were very popular but never seemed to be seen on television until much later in their career. The reason for this was that they did not read music, so we’re unable to get into the Music Union, no union card no work on the BBC, unions were strong at that time. I wondered how many great artists were in this position in the 1950s and1860s? Strang how such thoughts are triggered.
I don’t intend to go back to my spring cleaning, as the Irish would say “The humour is off me now”.
Take care, you all.