Sparkling tells me it has been snowing again in Scotland. She's fed up with it. Whilst back in London today the sun came out. It was bright and hard this morning and such a change to actually feel warm. Well for a short time anyway. I had this notion this morning to go and play Bertha in the park. I wanted to see what it would sound like, up on the hill where the walnut tree used to be. Until it had been hit by lightening and then eventually died. Shame. There is a seat and table up there. it looks down over a built up estate fifteen minutes walk away. But it's nice up there and I wanted to hear what Bertha sounds like when sound doesn't bounce of the walls of a small room. It wasn't as secluded as hoped. Dog walkers were about, the odd Nepalese walking around as well. It was too late. Next time I'll be up there at 7 a.m. or earlier. Except at this time on a Sunday I'd rather sleep, and of course there would of been frost. At 10 a.m. the frost had all melted. Bertha sounded OK but I was distracted by the noise of cars on the road down below, birds, barking dogs and dog walkers. Dog walkers who seemed to me to be lingering about just to hear what the crazy man on the top of the hill was playing on his ukulele. I saved the world by not singing. Did my songs and got pissed of with the walkers, like they never heard someone attempt music. Well, probably not on the hill, not on a Sunday morning.
Sparkling said it was a public place. It was something to expect and she'd of stopped to listen if around at the time. Don't matter. Next time I will get up earlier, but if its frosty my fingers will get cold and it will not be much of a session. I think Bertha liked a bit of fresh air as well. I must learn those songs and the music to them better. It's got to be so they are burnt into my memory. Of by heart. I wonder if there's a song about frosty fingers which isn't too difficult to learn. Mind the good thing about a Uke is you never need a poop bag.
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