This week is accelerating.
It started on a high at Lucy’s house. We had an ex-patriot curry fest. After 18 years living here, most of our friends and work colleagues are French, so it was strange to go to another person’s house and speak English and eat Indian…a nice change though. We were a mix of English, German and Dutch and American and Indian. I am convinced that one of our fellow dinner guests was a CIA agent …
Then some frantic rehearsals for the two D’AC concerts this week. When you are just voice and bass guitar on stage, you are very exposed…there is nowhere to hide! We have not played together for a while, so it was difficult at first. But then the magic came back. When one improvises something that the other doesn’t expect and then the other reacts in their own way and something is created on the spot which surprises and pleases both of us. Etienne really is an extraordinary bass player. He does some things that are technically so difficult that there is an excitement when we perform that makes my toes tingle.
I am now forced to cut short this post, my reading of all my favourite blogs, and precious rehearsal time because I have to wrestle with my French tax declaration , which is as complicated as anything administrative in France is bound to be…I may be some time…or as Katydidnot might say…"and then my head exploded".
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4 days ago
9 comments:
I sincerely hope your head doesn't explode because that would be a bitch to clean up.
Yeah - no exploding craniums, please.
My sisters-in-law (both of 'em) live in England; one lives in Oxford and has for about 30 years (she made the announcement the last time the family lived there for sabbatical that she'd found a man and was staying; it did not go over well) and the other lives in (I want to say) Strafford (but I'm not sure). I've never yet been, and I DESPERATELY want to go, but I'm not sure I'd want to live there. The life of an ex-pat must be challenging (though I have to admit here a trepidation about visiting Scotland - I have the strange feeling that I wouldn't ever want to leave, and I'm not sure how I'd handle that....)
Man, I hate it when my head explodes.
Wow! Dinner with a CIA agent. Sounds like a plot for a novel.
curry. mmmm. can i come next time?
Ah, the quiet American. He does rather like to cultivate that kind of air of mystery. He's been in some tight and interesting corners but not quite as a CIA agent. As far as I know...
Glad life is so exciting! good luck with the tax form.
Wear a hat, to prevent explosion on doing the tax.
Music sounds fun.
the problem with being a long term ex pat is that after a while there is nowhere you can call home...because where you left has changed so much. I think I like being an outsider though!
And I am still sure that the quiet american has a terrible secret. Did he murder his first three wives?
Good luck, both with tax and gig.
(I've got a gig with my old blues band tonight. We haven't played together for 15 years!)
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