It’s a chilly Tuesday morning in October and I’ve been up a fair few hours already. Like many people I’ve spoken to, it’s challenging to find a sense of purpose these days. My professional life now revolves around the shop and I’m starting to feel like part of the family having been employed there for almost 2 years. I recently passed my measure 25 test, which is when Sainsbury’s send out a mystery shopper to test the staff. A youth I suspected to be underage tried to buy a bottle of cider one evening and apparently I went through the correct process with textbook precision and refused the sale. I can’t tell you how much this means to me and I felt a sense of achievement akin to having performed a successful concert. It’s still a job that feels alien and unnatural to me and I often get things wrong but I’ve really embraced my work with serious gratitude recently as all my remaining bookings for 2020 are being moved to next year. I try not to worry and thoughts of “I should be practicing” dissipate as I realise there are more important priorities, namely my physical and mental health. Whenever I get overwhelmed (mainly when I start thinking too far ahead) I remember to be in my body, not my head, and return to the feeling. I close my eyes for a few seconds which always helps me calm down and feel more grounded.

Looking back, I used to write some fairly amusing vivid blog posts about my experiences at various events and occasionally about what I got up to in my free time. It looks like most of my activities for the next 3 months will revolve around home and that’s quite nice actually. I still don’t miss driving although I miss live performance immensely. I also miss the possibility of visiting my family in Wales, especially as that could involve exploring new hills and mountains and maybe even a stretch of beautiful sandy pebble strewn beach. A holiday abroad will have to wait!

My focus lately has been on improving my home environment. Slightly late to the great British DIY party, I finished stripping that blasted wood chip wallpaper off my bedroom walls last Saturday. What a relief that’s gone and I’m keen to keep working through the rest of the house while I still have time and enthusiasm. The inventor of wood chip wallpaper ought to be hung, drawn and quartered, chopped up into tiny little pieces and then shot just to be on the safe side before they invent anything equally offensive. I’d rather have cracked wonky walls than walls that look like they’ve had rice pudding projectile vomited all over them. I got a quote from a painter decorator, a friendly local chap who suggested putting lining paper up first before painting. I’d rather not do that but the alternative is ripping the old black lime plaster off the walls and putting up new plasterboard. I know how I want my bedroom to look. I’ve got a stack of inspirational screenshots and I’ve even got sample pots of paint to try but if I change my mind, I worry that in a few years time I’ll need to strip the whole lot off again. A wallpaper steamer borrowed from a friend has been a godsend but stripping is still a killer for my hands. And yet, stripping has kept me occupied and warm. Even with the window open it’s been like a hot sauna in there in snug smug cosy contrast with the fresh coolness of autumn outside.

Other than DIY, I’ve been experimenting with my cooking and going even further on a journey through different styles of culinary art focusing on vegetables. My friend bought me Meera Sodha’s book, Fresh India, and I’m always flicking through the pages, toying with interesting ways I could play with a butternut squash and a clutch of courgettes or some aubergines. I’ve always been tentative about Indian cuisine and its specialised spicing, and past attempts were deemed less delicious than anything I could buy from either of the 3 takeaways we have in the village. Not so after Sodha’s book. I started amassing spices at the start of summer and I’m gaining confidence with cumin, courage with cardamom and gratitude for garam masala as well as trust in turmeric. I have as yet to find a flair for fenugreek. I’m now on the lookout for ajwain seeds for her journey bread recipe made with chickpea flour, which has become one of my staple ingredients. It’s so simple and it involves kneading which is good for my hands and my head. Then I get to use my rolling pin which is always a bonus. I love the flavour and the health benefits of chickpea flour, and my body loves it too. All the recipes I’ve followed from Sodha’s book have been simple and successful and I much prefer having an actual book than looking online. Typing the name of a recipe I want to try into that search engine can lead me down an online rabbit hole so confusing I forget what I was looking for in the first place!

When I lived in South Africa there was a little shop in an outbuilding adjoined to a house round the corner from where I lived. I still remember it 20 years later, the Daily Deli. I still have thoughts of setting up something on the lines of a Derwent Daily Deli here. I’m sure I’d have to do some training and health and safety stuff but it’s at the back of my mind. It feels very important to be passionate about my work so I might need to give this one some careful thought. It’s one thing baking a cake or two for myself and my friends and neighbours. Baking greater quantities on demand even when I don’t feel like it sounds too much like work!

It chucked it down all day on Saturday and I was going to run but I didn’t want a soaking so I tried a HIIT session on Youtube instead. I couldn’t do all the moves but within a few minutes I was puffing and panting and sweating. I’ll definitely be doing that again. I had a fit of endorphin induced giggles half an hour later. A day without exercise is unthinkable and laughter still is the best medicine, especially when music isn’t quite cutting it for me at the moment.

Earlier this week there was a demonstration in London organised by professional freelance musicians about our plight and how our livelihoods have been devastated by the current pandemic. I’ve barely been online this week, a week dominated by shifts, so I’ve only caught a brief glimpse of the event. I glance at social media out of the corner of my eye and I’m sure I could be accused of being flippant and whimsical or avoidant with what I put up but I prefer to try and focus on the positive at a time when the catastrophic thinking part of my monkey brain could pull me down very low very quickly. I’ve taken on an extra shift tomorrow and next week I’m doing an extra 8 hour shift, a 9 to 5. I’m hoping I’ll have a Dolly Parton day, she’s a funny feisty lady. Working in the shop can be challenging and the additional safety measures leave me absolutely drained for a few hours after a shift. I wear a mask for the duration of a shift now and I realised a lot of the older customers depend on reading my lips to understand what I’m saying. After 4 hours, I feel I’ve been shout speaking a bit too much and I’m ready for a lie down in a darkened room. With all its pitfalls and stressors, I feel very lucky to have a job even though it’s a far cry from where I thought I’d be at this stage in my life. I keep telling myself it’s a transitional job, that I’m on a path to finding work that satisfies my creativity and it doesn’t matter that I don’t really know what that is yet. Given the current situation, it might not be in music as work will be even scarcer than it has been recently.

Next week, I’ll start practicing again. I’ve had a mini sabbatical since just before I walked up Snowdon. Now I’m feeling a strong urge for the harp and getting lost in music again. I’ve gently simmered my way into Autumn, now it’s time to cook on gas!