Smoking

I've impulsively booked to go to a concert at Snape on Friday night. I had an email to say there are still tickets for some of their Easter concerts - I hadn't booked anything as we often have family things on over the holiday.

You can book online, so I had a look, but backed away hastily when I discovered there was a £1.75 booking fee. Since all I wanted was a single £10 ticket, it seemed a bit steep. Just as well, for when I mentioned it to Ro, he said he'd come too. I rang for the tickets this morning.

A pleasant programme of Prokofiev and Stravinsky, including Lieutenant Kije. I have an affection for that piece. When I was under a period of great stress, I couldn't listen to much music; I couldn't cope with it. I played Bix Beiderbecke, Hoagy Carmichael and Kije, over and again. They were enjoyable and comforting in a way I still don't understand - not that they were, but that others weren't. Later, I was able to listen to Mozart's Requiem. Now, anything, I'm glad to say, and I like to be surprised.

I'll be in the shop this afternoon, so I've had an early lunch. A delicious undyed Lowestoft kipper. Maybe it's because I'm a Lowestoft girl that I love smoky tastes. Lapsang Souchong tea, kippers and bloaters, Islay whisky. And the smell of a wood fire, of course.