I am laying on the sofa listening to (and half watching) a YouTube playlist of Leonard Cohen music. The Jellicle is upstairs sorting her medical stuff and Weasel is out. I am reflecting that I cannot imagine a life without music. Every so often on Desert Island Discs or in the pub or something I will hear someone say that music wasn’t really a part of their life growing up and honestly, I can’t fathom it. 

One of my favourite childhood memories is that of slowly waking up (on holidays or weekends) gradually realising Mum was practising the piano in the room below my bedroom. 

But there wasn’t always music in my house, it was always a deliberate action and I think that’s what makes me appreciate it as a ‘thing’ in and of itself. Radio Four only has occasional music shows and that was what was on in the background most often as I was growing up. Music was something to be accessed by deliberate action on someone’s part. Retuning the radio, playing the piano, the slightly ceremonial putting on of a record, the more casual putting on of a tape or CD, and all very different sorts of music.

I forget where I was going with this, just that laying in the front room listening to music of an evening is something that I love to do and have loved for a very long time.

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