Sorry for the infrequency of these blog posts. Because we spend a lot of days traveling, concerting, eating, singing, and getting lost or nearly run over in strange countryside side streets, it’s been hard to find time to write. Nevertheless, I’ve been having great fun on the UK leg of the tour, and finding touches of home in the strangest places — for example in the warm welcomes of the farmers at a nearby market in Queen’s Park in Glasgow.
My new writing solution is to tap out posts on my iPod while riding in the van. Here’s one from a couple of days ago, when we were riding off to Manchester:
Yesterday after an evening workshop we went to our first English pub, the Duke’s. It looked like the inside of a nice hotel with conservatively striped crimson wall paper, gilt framed mirrors, and a wood stove helping to warm us up where we sat by mahogany tables. At the bar I ordered a Shropshire gold, a mild pale brew that almost overcame my distaste for beers. I sat next to an young English couple, one of whom was studying forensic science in college, the other of whom was taking a gap year before going off to university. On a pop culture note, the forensic scientist told me that the TV show glee has just made it to England. And the English have a special holiday called Red Nose Day every other March: a day when all sport red noses and act silliy to benefit charity.
I had such wonderful vegetarian hosts here; it’s so nice to be in a house with young kids, energetic puppies, and parents who laugh at each others’ jokes (or groan knowingly, as the case may be). I shared with Molly a taste for garlic, with Aeife an interest in swimming, and with a Liam a love off instruments. (He played about five.) I need to learn more languages and more instruments!
So many if my sentences here begin with it’s so nice! Or look at that! I suppose I’m noticing and enjoying the words, the accent, the sheep we pass by on the highway. Lynn looks at me when I say these things and sort of smiles and nods in a doleful way. That dampless enthusiasm again. Will, when I lope around the Steiner school yard in the morning before two hours of driving in the van, calls me a leprechaun. I wish I had someone to share these enthusiasms with as fully as we share our music on stage. (But hey — I’ve been told that when I’m not around, all confess to actually enjoying my puns. It’s more bark than bite when Will jokes about reinstating his policy of punches for puns).
I’m looking forward to Glasgow tomorrow. I’m sorry that my postings have been so rare, but time has been spare, and it’s hard to escape the feeling that writing takes me away from all these wonderful experiences. So I’m typing this out on my iPod as we drive to Manchester and discuss the horses we see on the side of the road. (Please forgive the wigliness of spelling, capitalization, and such). I’m loving England so far. I’ll let you know, when I have the chance, what I think of Glasgow!