I can’t sleep. That’s nothing unusual. Nothing different to most other nights. I am of that certain age which has to expect sleepless nights when most others are deep in candy floss dreams; uneasy, uncomfortable and feeling a light sweat…..
I don’t know why but my instinct is to scuttle downstairs as quietly as I can (which unfortunately, for my no-ballet figure, is a 7 on a scale of 1-10 as I trip over the slippery rug underfoot and bump into the stair wall that seems to move every time I try to quietly navigate the turn from the landing to the first step on the the stairs. It takes all my energy to stop swearing when I stub my toe (for the gazillionth time) on the corner of that first step.
Honestly, I am not quite sure why I make a break for the south…I guess it is because there the only disturbance I create affects the 4-legged hooman…..Teddy the doggie. ‘He enjoys the company’ I rationalise. Sometimes, to compensate for my invasion, I let him on the ‘forbidden couch’ (as long as he doesn’t tell anyone!).
Sometimes I dreamily watch Netflix et al waiting for the sandman to dump a bucket load to send me away with the fairies until at least bright sunlight shines through (I would like to say the ‘break of dawn’ but unfortunately, living in the desert, that is around 4:30am and the frickin’ tropical birds do an overly excellent job of reminding me of that fact). By this point the poor doggie has done a marathon of laps around the couch, coffee table and stared at me in disgust because my glass of water seems to be upsetting his concept of feng shui.
Tonight, tired of American sitcoms on demand and being incapable of remaining awake through a ‘Game of Thrones’ episode I choose music.
Two days ago DS2 (at the innocent age of 12 years) introduced me to Spotify. I had been tuned into iTunes on my phone but really took it not further than signing up (more likely because I didn’t know how). Every time DS2 (who has been a long time Spotify fan asked me to upgrade his account, I was happy do so because I felt, unlike screen-time, he would be less likely to be corrupted by inappropriate messages).
He offered to make me a playlist but because I can’t remember the names of songs/artists beyond 2001, we both struggled, so tonight, in search of something to tempt 40 winks, I listened to DD’s downloads (which I happened to find stored on my phone). I expected boy bands, cute teen boys (perhaps some with the random ‘brave’ tattoo to make them look ‘tougher’ than they actually were).
Steady, reliable ‘pick ‘n mix’.
I like jelly babies. I like jelly tots. I like wine gums. Sweet, sickly sweet even, is what I expected.
Alas talk about a ‘mixed bag’; mixed bag of liquorice.
Listening to DD’s playlist, I was thrown. Liquorice is a ‘hit and miss’ sweet: sometimes you bite in, wince and raise eyes to heaven but if you take a moment…….its aftertaste can be magic and something leaving you wanting more, just like jelly babies.
And that was DD’s playlist. Her ballad-heavy, deep-thinking talented singer/songwriter choices brought tears to my eyes…Moments. Times. Marking Moments and Times. And glad to see at least one Irish group made the very clearly discerned list (@the Script).