I woke up this morning to the dulcet tones of my daughter asking “Mummy? Do you need my help?” Followed by the sound of her bundling her way through the stair gate that we put across her doorway to ensure she doesn’t wander off in the night.
It was 9:10.
She’s always been a good sleeper, but for us to get a lay in until that time of day is unheard of.
The next three hours of my life felt a bit like a fever dream. I know that my wife’s uncle and his girlfriend visited to see our new house, and I know I made some tea and breakfast for us at some point, but all in all, the morning was something of a blur.
This is what I’m a bit scared of – that life will be a blur. That things will pass me by without me really noticing. That they already have.
The Road
A blurry morning was followed by a silent drive to Redhill to perform another show.
Apparently the quiet drive wasn’t appreciated by everyone. But I’m okay with some silence. I don’t need music all the time. And as far as I’m concerned they were welcome to play music at any given point.
The show itself started off slow and quiet too, much like the day. But as it wore on and the interval passed, the audience warmed up and we had a blast. It was made all the better by a visit from our Buttons’ boyfriend who I happened to have directed in Shooting Star Entertainments’ North East tour of Dick Whittington just a couple of months ago.
Of course, I picked on him to come up and sing a song from his own tour.
The Life
Something of a blurry journey home in the dark was punctuated by an evening meal of my wife’s leftovers and a house to tidy.
Once that was done, I treated myself to a post-Christmas Baileys and spent 20 minutes or so playing around with my new keyboard, and trying to get better at piano.