Music as Time Travel

Some people don’t believe in time travel, but I think I have a pretty convincing argument for it. Here it is. There are some pieces of music (actually, there are many) that instantly transport me back in time and space.

The Doctor Who theme tune (Jon Pertwee of course).

Instantly I am back in front of our TV on a Saturday night, five or six years old and perched on a swivel chair with my brother, reminding dad to turn the chair when the monsters appear.

Handel’s Messiah.

As soon as I hear the opening notes I am transported back to Sheffield City Hall, up in the gods, wrapped in the crochet shawl granny made me  – saved for best. Dad sits next to me, conducting away happily, handing me opera glasses. (Were my glasses broken again? Probably.)

Rod Stewart’s Sailing.

Not a song most people would associate with my mum. Yet it takes me straight back to our kitchen in Derbyshire, mum turning up the radio  as she hears it playing. Watching ToTP as a family, Rod sings his song. Mum, horrified, announces that she no longer likes the song. Hearing it now makes me smile, and I can see the wry smile on her face if she could read this now.

So there you have it – music as a way of traveling in time. QED.

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Silent Sunday

Glasgow Uni Tower
Glasgow Uni Tower flickr photo by NomadWarMachine shared under a Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license

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Busy Bees

248/365 Busy bees
248/365 Busy bees flickr photo by NomadWarMachine shared under a Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license

I love making postcards.  Doodling ideas on paper, then drawing them on blank cards, looking through my spreadsheet of names and addresses, writing a message on each, adding stamps and taking to the postbox. A ritual that relaxes me, makes me feel close to the friends I am writing to, helps me to forget about the world around. This week I posted a dozen cards across the world. Now I wait till they arrive.

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Silent Sunday

246/365 Adam Smith
246/365 Adam Smith flickr photo by NomadWarMachine shared under a Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license

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Silent Sunday

237/365 Lobey Dosser Mural
237/365 Lobey Dosser Mural flickr photo by NomadWarMachine shared under a Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license

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Preserving memories

Our friend Irvine recently gave us a big bag of apples from his trees, so this week I decided to make a batch of chutney and also to augment the pink currants from our garden and make a batch of jelly. I’d picked up a couple of mum’s books last time I was home, so yesterday I opened one and was immediately transported back to their kitchen on the Isle of Wight, with mum checking her cupboards for dry ingredients as I peeled and chopped the apples I’d picked from neighbours’ trees.

WI Jam
WI Jam flickr photo by NomadWarMachine shared under a Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license

Her WI book is dogeared and stained – with recipes cut out from magazines and taped into the back with mum’s notations across them. The book falls open at a chutney recipe with two ticks – so that was the one I decided to make. Mum had recorded her version of the recipe – and after looking through my cupboards this morning and working out proportions I noted down my own version – I’d originally planned to walk down to the shops this morning and buy more vinegar and sugar, but I wanted to get it cooking while awaiting a delivery so this was what I had available.

Chutney recipes
Chutney recipes flickr photo by NomadWarMachine shared under a Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license

It took a while to peel and chop the fruit (the recipe said to mince it, and I imagined mum’s raised eyebrows at the thought of taking the time to do that – chopped small was close enough!).

Chutney
Chutney flickr photo by NomadWarMachine shared under a Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license

Of course, after cooking it for ages, it was ready to put into jars just as it was time for lunch, but chutney is easier to manage than marmalade, so I turned off the gas and left it cooling while we ate lunch. The result is seven jars – a big one for Irvine to say thanks for the apples, the rest for us.

Chutney
Chutney flickr photo by NomadWarMachine shared under a Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license

Now I know, because Delia says so, that I have to wait till my chutney has matured – but I couldn’t resist trying it out mid-afternoon on some oatcakes. It’s pretty good.

Oatcakes and chutney
Oatcakes and chutney flickr photo by NomadWarMachine shared under a Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license

But the rest will be stored in a dark cupboard for a few weeks – I promise!

The juice is now straining from the currants and apples ready to make jelly tomorrow…

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Holiday traditions

Postcard from Algot
Postcard from Algot flickr photo by NomadWarMachine shared under a Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license

Sending postcards has been part of my holiday routine for most of my life. As a child we were ‘encouraged’ to send them to family and godparents, as an adult I enjoyed choosing cards to send to nephews and nieces when they were young. In recent years N and I have been sending them to our parents. Last year I sent what would turn out to be the last postcard to mum while we were on holiday in Findhorn. This year, for the first time that I can remember, I didn’t buy or send any postcards while we were on holiday, because there wasn’t anyone to send them to.

So imagine my joy when I returned home to find a postcard from my friend Algot.  Thank you, Algot. Now to think about drawing some to send around the world…

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Silent Sunday

Coal Tit
Coal Tit flickr photo by NomadWarMachine shared under a Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license

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Silent Sunday

226/365 Sunset at Findhorn
226/365 Sunset at Findhorn flickr photo by NomadWarMachine shared under a Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license

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Silent Sunday

Swans
Swans flickr photo by NomadWarMachine shared under a Creative Commons (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0) license

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