Lay odl lay odl lay hee hoo

Except that's Austria, of course, and we've actually been in Switzerland: me, the fan, a mandolin and the Monkey. Flying with instruments was a slightly anxious experience. The actual flying was fine. The anxiety was caused by ground staff who don't know their own airline's rules, and later on just worrying that the Monkey might have found the flight difficult.

We both of us took a while to warm up. I'm playing so little at present. But it was OK. Tunes I played I remembered with few slips. I could be playing better, of course, faster, more fluently, with looser fingers. But our friends were pleased we'd made the effort. After all, it's not every day you get to play with bagpipes up a Swiss hillside.

All sorts of funny tunes...

Hands too cold to play particularly well this evening. Head full of tunes. Flett wasn't among them: I couldn't conjure him from anywhere. Instead I had Miss G, Home Town, Amazing Grace, Irishman's Cudgel, the Dragon...fragments of Murray (remember when!), Highland Cathedral (on my mind because it's a favourite of friends we're visiting soon), Hark the Herald (no idea). Horsburgh a bit hit and miss, Troy crashed out in the B part...

Maybe I should revisit some of those old tunes that never came to anything. But Miss G is about there, although sometimes a little uncertain om the last bar but two.

You hum it...

I was trundling between meetings today, out in the sunshine, humming to myself. I had a listen and realised I was humming Miss Girdle. Not sure whether she's sunk in through sheer persistence or through hearing her played. Either way I was sure the time was right, so once I'd trekked round the local supermarket, mislaid my car in the car park, sat in traffic, had problems parking at home and cooked dinner I hoiked out my pipes. I came in via A, which really wasn't comfortable today, and then straight to D and Miss G, and there she was! Second half of the second art needs work, but the whole of the A part is there.

At least... I *think* it was Miss G I was humming. It may have been the Shetland Fiddler, but as I am playing the two together I can' be sure....

Americana

Monday we dragged ourselves out to see a couple of pipers: Ross Ainslie and Jarlath Henderson, and boy, was it worth the effort. There were some whistles, of course, and some whistles and pipes, but also lots and lots of full on pipes: Irish and Border, one harmonizing around the other, or playing together. There were some Irish tunes that I was surprised to find were playable on Border pipes. Some of it was at a serious speed, and positively rock 'n roll, so it was no surprise to find that Ross was taught by Gordon Duncan.

Some of the songs were...not your usual folk style, let's say. The fan hissed "Gerry Rafferty" in my ear at one stage. Turns out one of the tracks on the album we bought was by him. I really only know Baker Street, and had always - wrongly, it seems - assumed he was American. There's a bluesy feel to that track, I suppose. Ross, with floppy hair and moustache and skimpy army issue shirt looked like a refugee from an early episode of M*A*S*H. So, for me, there was a general transatlantic feel.

But it was great - really invigorating and inspiring. I wish I could say that I came home and fell on my pipes, but the usual problems means I only picked them up this evening and creaked rustily along for a while until my arms started to ache. This really can't go on.

Back in your arms again

This week I've started to hear music in my head again. It's not there all the time, and it's mostly a song, but it's there, and I feel as though I must be defrosting, decompressing, becoming myself again. I was starting to feel like a person who used to play pipes, so it was a relief to be able to muster the energy and find the time tonight.

I began with A: I'm using the old trick of always putting the A chanter on before I put the pipes away. I fell straight into the Rowan Tree without even thinking, then Amazing Grace and  Galloway. Too much bellows action, snatched action at that, but it was OK, it was good.

Back to D I rambled about, my fingers feeling stiff and unpracticed, but the tunes came. Magersfontein, Flett, Dargai, Bee, Home Town, Drops of Brandy. The Dragon still floating about, wanting to be slow and lyrical, I think. The Cabot Trail kept crashing out in the B part. The Whaling Song was OK. Teribus popped up out of nowhere. Braemar stalled on the B part. Not even sure what I else I can play, could play - back in the day, back when I was a piper.

Oh  - but some foot tapping, out of nowhere. Good solid tapping that keeps time. But it only works when I'm sitting down. I can't tap and walk, obviously, but I can't tap and stand either, it seems.

I'll be glad when this rough patch at work is over and I can get back to doing the stuff I love and being myself.

Gone girl

I am still here. Just. A big project at work means I'm getting home late a lot with my mind on other things. Weekends away mean I spend my evenings doing the chores I had no time for at the weekend. I think I'm a tad stressed: all the music has been washed out of my head. I have no tunes. I have no time or energy for piping. I dragged the pipes out this evening. Began on A, moved to D. Remembering bits of Horsbrugh, which is good. Took a while to feel settled in , and by the time I did my arms were tired. Like I say, I'm still here. Just.