Tag Archives: music

R.E.S.P.E.C.T.

One thing that has astounded me during the process of having the extension built is how some people have treated the space they are working in.

When the work first started it was all outside, it was messy, it was a bit noisy, but the main thing was that it was outside. I could ignore it, mostly, and it was the start so it was exciting to know that things were finally happening.

As the work has progressed it has become more and more intrusive. I understand that it was always going to be messy. Having walls knocked down and ceilings messed about with was never going to be a tidy job, and I understand that for the tradesmen involved it is a building job. But, and this is a big but, it’s not a building site, it’s our home. Yes, it’s a mess and there’s no floor and walls but it’s still our home. And I think my expectation was that people would respect that. I was sorely wrong.

We have walls now and a new kitchen and we have windows and doors and it’s all nearly done, but anyone that comes still seems to treat it like a building site. The tiler started on Monday and he has made a mess. It’s a messy job, I know that, and not one that I would want to do, and it’s easy for me to sit here at my laptop moaning about it, but he knew we were having the walls painted (yes, he would have preferred for us to have it decorated AFTER he had finished, but equally the decorators preferred to have the floor bare when they painted. In a toss up of what would be easier to clear up – a few marks from the newly painted walls or scratches from ladders from the newly laid tiles, we opted for the walls) but he has still left tools leaning up against them and bits of compound stuck to them. I am sure it will all clear up fine, but it is very frustrating.

Also, what is it with the radio? Why do they all have to have the effing radio turned up so effing loud? I like listening to music while I work and have the radio on at home and in the office every day. But not at full volume. Booming through the house. And it’s never a decent radio station.

The only person who I would welcome back in to my house any time is the electrician. He talked to me like I was an intelligent human being (who knew?) and with a lovely manner about him. He was courteous and polite and was keen to ensure I was happy with everything he had done. He was the antithesis of everyone else that has been here. With very few exceptions every other person has either (a) ignored me and spoken solely to K; (b) patronised me – classic quote “are you excited about getting your new kitchen installed today?” – not exactly excited, glad it’s finally happening, and definitely not in the way you just said it which made me sound like a 5 year old; (c) made me feel uncomfortable for being in my own home. I only work from home one day a week so I’ve not been around much but arriving back after a day at the office to be made to feel I can’t go into my own kitchen to make a cup of tea is not a nice experience.

In short, I have had enough of people being in our house. Our home. My haven. It’s left me feeling off kilter, out of sorts, irritable, out of control, not on top of things*. (So much so, that even the usually not very perceptive bosses at work have noticed that I am not myself and have suggested a few days off when it’s all done – to recharge my batteries and “re-nest my house”, bless them.)  I am desperate for it all to be finished. I am desperate to know that when I come home no-one will be here (other than maybe T who is now on a very long summer holiday**) and I will be able to make a cup of tea, sit in the garden, think about cooking dinner (at a reasonable time and not taking into account the timetable of whichever workman I have in the house) and breathe.

*A has her school “enrichment” week this week. This generally means the parent spending a shed load of cash sending their child on a week long trip to France or Germany or day trips to London and other delights. A was not keen to go away to improve her language skills as she fully intends to ditch the subjects at the earliest opportunity (much to my horror – I love languages) and so she opted for the day trips options. These were limited – she has already been on the London Eye with us as a family, she doesn’t like horses and doesn’t want to spend the day mucking them out for a half hour of riding. She didn’t want to travel four hours in a coach for a few hours at the Ironbridge Victorian museum and then four hours back. She’s not awkward, she just knows what she doesn’t want to do. So on Monday she took part in a multi- sports day (all children who were not away on residential trips had to participate) and it was OK. Yesterday she had a STEM day where groups of four students were set the task of making a self-propelled buggy. Her team won for KS3. Happy moment. Today she is taking part in Masterchef – which is where my lack of organisation has hit home – she was missing a vital ingredient that I had let slip my mind to buy and nowhere locally stocks it. But she was her usual positive self and insisted she would be able to work around it with the substitute that I got her. Tomorrow she is going to the Tower of London – the only one from her group of friends, but she has managed to track down a friend of a friend who is also going to be on her own, so they are pairing up. Phew. It’s all too much to remember and I’m not normally a flaky mum. Normal service will resume very soon.

**T finished his exams on the 15th June. He has 10 long weeks ahead of him and I would prefer him not to sleep them all away. Ideally, I would like him to get a job and earn some money. However, he is not 16 for another 4 weeks and most companies won’t take any one on under this age. He also has 3 weekends when he is away (D of E, cadet competitions) plus our 2 week holiday in the middle of the summer. This makes him a less than attractive applicant for many prospective employers. I’ve managed to get him a bit of paid work emptying recycling bags for the company I work for but it will be pocket money rather than anything long term. It’s going to be a long 10 weeks!

 

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Communication, The Band, The End of Exams

A bit of a long-winded title, but I am not feeling inspired to think of anything witty!
It’s been a long few weeks and I am feeling pretty knackered. I hate the “rollercoaster” cliche but I really do feel like we have been up one minute and down the next. The extension is taking shape. We almost have a completed kitchen – I let out a whoop of joy yesterday when I saw a photo from K showing me a working sink! Amazing the things that can make me happy. I know it’s first-world problems and all that, but washing up in a bowl with water supplied from the kettle and outside tap for 2 weeks was almost more than I could take. When I washed up in the new sink for the first time last night I made a small silent vow not to take it for granted again, but I know I will soon forget the horror of it all – a bit like childbirth (not really, I will NEVER forget that!)..

The biggest issue we have had during this whole process has not been any of the niggly things that have gone wrong – not the need for deeper foundations than planned; not the issue with the ceiling when the steel was installed differently to the plans; not the delays when the toilet we had ordered was the wrong sort, etc, etc. – it’s been a massive lack of communication. It’s unbelievable to me that in this age of technology that we can’t get a simple answer to a question, or a call from someone when they are not going to be able to come and do what they are booked in to do. It seems that some people don’t know how to talk to others, to put them in the picture, to let them know what needs doing. They just don’t turn up. K was astounded, when he first met our builder, that he didn’t write anything down. He’s continued to not write things down throughout the build and it has caused a few issues – nothing insurmountable, but big enough to cause delays and worry.

I understand that things go wrong, delays happen, people hurt their backs and can’t work, but it doesn’t take much to pick up a phone and call the customer. It doesn’t take much for what starts out as a really good service to become disappointing and frustrating. Just for the sake of a call.

Anyway rant over and on to happier things. Back in November, K booked two tickets for The Band – a musical centred around the music of Take That. We didn’t watch the TV programme where 5 young men were selected for roles in the show but I am a huge Take That fan and mentioned that I would love to see the show. I had little idea what it was about, other than knowing that it wasn’t the story of Take That – just featured their music. Anyway, we went on Friday to see it. I really enjoyed it. It was funny, sad, great music (obviously) and a really good atmosphere. We had good seats, in a circle box, but unfortunately were joined by a group of ladies celebrating (loudly) a 50th birthday. The story-line was simple – a group of five teenage girls growing up in the north in the early 90’s and obsessed with a boy band (they are never referred to as Take That – they are only referred to as The Boys or The Band) and one of them wins tickets to go to a concert. They go, they have a great time, they miss their train home and on the way back tragedy strikes and one of them is killed. Fast forward to present day and the four remaining friends are in their early 40’s dealing with their own lives, having drifted apart and not having seen each other for many years. One of the four wins tickets to see The Band in Prague and contacts the other three out of the blue to make it a reunion of sorts. They meet and we see how their lives have changed, who they have become. There was some real humour and some very poignant moments but I didn’t cry (neither from laughter or sorrow). I did have a small moment, when the present day characters were singing to their younger selves, and wondered how it would be to be able to tell your younger self that all would be OK in the end? The music was great – the lads that were playing “The Boys” were not trying to be Take That, they were just singing their music and I think they did a good job. It was a fun night out and we both enjoyed it. And the icing on the cake was the 30 second walk back to the Premier Inn after it finished! Result.

T sits his final exam on Friday. It has been a long four weeks and I am pleased that it is nearly over. He has remained calm during the whole time and has been studying (hopefully enough) in his spare time. He has replied to my enquiring about how each exam has gone with “good” with the odd “harder than I expected” thrown in. On the whole, he seems to feel that they have gone ok. Only time will tell now. He’s got some time to relax ahead, but has been thinking about how he can earn some money to keep him in funds for the duration of the extended summer holiday. As he’s one of the youngest in his year (not 16 until towards the end of next month) he is struggling to find anyone to give him a job. Added to that, he has three weekends where he is either on his DofE expedition, or attending the County and National Cadet Competitions and then we are away for two weeks in August! Doesn’t leave him much chance to work and not many prospective employers are going to be happy to take someone on who can’t work for half the summer. My boss has offered him a few hours a week sorting recycling bags (of ink cartridges) which he is happy to pay him quite well for so hopefully that will give him enough money to have some days out with his friends!

So now we play the waiting game again. Waiting for the extension to be finished, waiting for exam results and desperately not wishing the time away. I can’t go back to my younger self and tell her to slow down and to stop worrying but I can tell my own kids to enjoy themselves, to not worry about stuff you can’t change and to be patient. And maybe I can take my own advice too.

 

 

 

 

 

The beauty of it

Since she started at senior school, A has become more and more interested in make up. I’ve never worn much make up. I’m not very confident applying it and I don’t really like the way it makes my skin feel, so other than a bit of mascara and some concealer for the dark circles that live permanently under my eyes, I tend not to bother too much. I’ve found it quite interesting to see A become almost obsessed with it. I say obsessed – she rarely wears it to go out. She has bought quite a few (cheaper) items and loves watching YouTube video tutorials, follows make up accounts on Instagram and loves to film herself doing similar “looks” which she then posts on her own Instagram account(*) – she has one devoted to make up so that her friends who are not interested in it don’t get sick of seeing her videos!

I have to admit to finding it a bit irritating. She used to love to read more than anything. She used to sew and bake and colour and do crafty things. She still reads a lot but not as much as she used to. She still does crafty things but not as much as she used to. I quite often find myself asking her to do something else, when I find her filming herself again or removing make up in the bathroom again (we get through a lot of Micellar Water!) It normally leads to some sort of row but that’s OK, that’s what parents and teens do right?

I didn’t follow her make up account for quite some time. I get to see the effects first hand most of the time – she quite often comes down to dinner with one eye made up in some garish, amazing, impressive, beautiful design – so I don’t need to see how she did it or read the comments from her equally obsessed friends. Then I had coffee with a friend whose daughter is in the same year as A. She mentioned the make up videos and before I had chance to roll my eyes (it’s not just teens that are allowed to do that you know) and say anything derogatory, she went on to say how impressed she was when her daughter showed her one, how confidently A comes across and how much she liked watching her. Oh. I had to admit to not seeing any of them and actually felt a bit bad.

So that evening I requested to follow her and without discussion was granted permission. (I don’t generally follow the kids accounts – T follows A and I know he keeps a beady eye on any nonsense – and prefer not to have kids following mine, not because I post anything unpleasant but I’m 45, not 15, and my photos/posts are not of their world.)

I sat down and watched her latest video. I was impressed. I haven’t watched anyone else doing this stuff so have nothing to compare to, but watching my girl smiling and pulling faces at the camera, putting on this amazing make up design made me smile. She is funny and the way she edits the video – sped up and music playing, no talking, lots of waving – is brilliant. I loved it. My friend was right, she’s great. I didn’t read all of the caption listing which products she used, etc. but she had some lovely comments from other girls and other make up obsessives. I still wish she spent more time reading or doing something else but can see that this is creative in it’s own way and gives her a lot of pleasure. She’s good at it and she enjoys it. She washes it off almost straight away and she looks her age when she goes out. (Maybe a bit more than her actual age due to her height but age-appropriate).

This morning, I had a quick look at Instagram while I was waiting for the kettle to boil. She has posted a couple of pictures of herself with no make up on and she has written a long piece beneath them.

“For a while I’ve been feeling fairly insecure about the way I look, my teeth, how I run etc. In the long run these are all silly things that can be fixed or learnt to live with, braces can fix my teeth and so on. Recently, maybe over the last couple of year, have I really accepted myself and learnt to love myself the way I am, as I was born to look and be this way, and that no one can change who I am. This post is kind of a way to show and let other people out there who may feel insecure to know that you are you, and well you should be happy about yourself and maybe even find a way to turn these insecurities into securities because in the end they are what makes us stand out as unique and different, allow us to stand out. Now that I’ve said that I want to address another thing which is that some people think that girls and boys wear make up to cover over and to mask themselves. This is not true! Yes it can be a way to boost confidence and help someone feel good about themselves, but it’s also a way of expressing themselves and make a point through something other than a painting or sketch, it’s a way of expressing feelings in a creative way. Because at the end of the day it can be removed. It’s not permanent. Personally I don’t wear makeup every day and even when I do, most of the time I don’t wear out half of what I put on my face in my videos. I mostly just fill in my brows and that’s it for school, maybe pop on a bit of mascara or concealer if I feel like it or maybe do some eye-shadow for a special occasion or weekend. I rarely wear out a winged eyeliner or a smoky eye or a bold contour. Anyways, I hope this post has maybe inspired or supported some people. xxx”

Most of this I knew. I know she has always been very self-conscious of her front teeth, which are now as good as perfect and look like a completely different set of teeth to the ones she had three years ago. I know she is self-conscious of the way she runs – she has been under pressure from a (particularly unpleasant) girl in her form to take part in the school sports day, running the 1500m. She is only pressurising her because she knows of A’s feelings about running. Luckily, A is made of sterner stuff than that and has stood her ground, steadfastly refusing to be bullied into it. I know that she gets silly comments from some of the boys about her make up account. She doesn’t care – she loves doing it and she just asks them why they are watching if they are not interested!

She’s only 13 and like many other 13 year old girls she likes putting on make up. Big deal. What is a big deal is how much she thinks about stuff.; how sensitive and thoughtful she is; how much she wants to be positive and help others to feel more positive. She is my own personal cheer leader and makes me feel better about myself all the time. To me, she is beautiful inside and out. Make up or no make up, perfectly brushed hair or bed head. She may not spend as much time reading or baking as she used to, but this latest hobby (I won’t call it an obsession any more) has given her confidence, made her think about the bigger issues and it makes her happy. And that makes me happy too.

(* all her accounts are private and she knows to “vet” any potential followers and we talk – well, I talk while she rolls her eyes – about being safe online etc, etc.)

Did you hear that?

There’s been a thing going around on social media , a bit like the dress thing from last year where you either saw a blue or a gold dress (forgive me if the colours are wrong, I wasn’t that bothered by it), where you have to listen to a sound clip of someone saying a name. Depending on how you hear certain sound frequencies, you will hear either one name or another. We were talking about it over dinner last night and while I was aware of it but hadn’t actually listened and taken the test, K was completely unaware of it. T decided we needed to do it and, although I was sceptical, K and I heard different things. I could hear the higher frequency word and he could hear the lower frequency one. I was delighted that the explanation is that younger people are more likely to hear the higher one than older people. I am officially 9 months younger than K but clearly my ears are even younger! Or maybe I am just more “down with the kids” than he is 😉

It did get me thinking about the number of conversations that K and I have which, at a later date, are remembered differently by one of us. I always thought this was a man thing or a K thing or some thing that I just had to put up with. Maybe I just need to start speaking in a lower tone so that he is more likely to actually hear the words that I am saying? It also explains a lot about my hearing sensitivity. While I sometimes struggle to hear people talking – maybe they are talking in low frequency voices? – I also suffer from tinnitus from time to time (usually when I am stressed out) and often, normally when I have a headache, can’t bear too much noise. I have to turn off the radio (I love listening to music so this is a big deal) and often hear high pitched noises that no-one else can seem to hear. It drives me mad.

Interestingly A could hear a different word at different times. This is apparently not uncommon and depends on what your sensitivity is at a given time. T could hear the same as me. K got quite cross by it and thought we were winding him up that we could hear a different word. Fascinating. I wonder how much voice changers cost on Amazon…?

If you haven’t already, you can read about it here and take the test.

yanny

Hips don’t lie and FAITH.

Not sure the title is particularly relevant but its the only song I know with the word hips in it, apart from “hippy, hippy, shake” but there’s not been a lot of that going on.

The MRI showed that I have a cyst, stuck between my hip bone and my groin. It showed up on the scan like a huge tumour so I was really pleased that the consultant didn’t keep us waiting before explaining it is actually just a fluid filled sac and can be easily sorted out.

Sitting in the waiting room beforehand I had been lurching from it being osteoarthritis like Auntie B had or a tumour; to sciatica or nothing. None of these options were a particularly great prospect. Sadly, due to my profound lack of medical training, a cyst had not even entered anywhere close to my radar of thoughts so I only had extreme self-diagnoses to go on. Luckily, the consultant is incredibly knowledgeable and set me straight. I am going to have it drained tomorrow night, followed by a steroid injection to ease the inflammation. I am not looking forward to this, but I am focusing on the fantastic news that within 48 hours I should be up to going for a walk. A walk! Hurrah. I cannot begin to explain how much I have missed walking. It’s the only exercise I truly enjoy, it’s great for my head-space, and my body seems to like it too.  I can’t wait to be back pounding the pavements and fields once more.

Faith. No, I have not come over all born-again in the aftermath of the MRI results. I AM very grateful to whoever or whatever is steering my life but that’s as far as I am prepared to go on that score.

‘Faith: the Legacy’ is the name of a George Michael tribute act that I went to see last night at a local venue. The poor chap was suffering from “man-flu” (his words not mine) and his voice was clearly suffering a bit. He had a passing resemblance to the man himself but this was mainly due to his haircut and jawline more than anything else. His Brummie accent was a little off-putting but we weren’t there to listen to him talk, we were there to listen to him sing and to have a bit of a jig (hips permitting) to the old classics. We weren’t disappointed in the music, the singing was OK – fab backing singers – and all in all it was a fun night. One of the lovely ladies I was with pointed out – when we were singing along to one of the early hits – that we would have been around the age of our daughters when the song was in the charts. If my hip wasn’t making me feel old, that certainly did! It was great to remember how the songs made me feel when I was a teenager and how much joy George Michael’s music still gives me. It was a tribute, it wasn’t in any way a substitute for the real thing, but it was great fun and what more can you ask than that?

 

One better day*

It’s not been a very eventful day today but I quite like Thursdays. They are my Friday, with another Friday afterwards. My Thursday is like most people’s Friday’s but I get a free non-working Friday after my Thursday, not just a Saturday and Sunday. I LOVE Fridays. There is no better day. I know that I should love weekends more than Fridays, and I do love them, but you can’t beat a Friday. Consequently, Thursday is all about the anticipation of the Friday to follow, so I quite like Thursdays.

What has made me smile today other than it just being Thursday?

Little things:

Receiving a text from A from a sleepover –  having a lovely time – followed by a message from the sleepover friend’s mum saying how lovely it had been to have A there, that her younger children adore A and that she is patient and kind with them.

A hug from my man-boy. I had to wake him up at half ten so he could get on with some revision/homework. Cruel to be kind, that old chestnut. He doesn’t hold a grudge, he doesn’t shout at me to go away. He takes his time surfacing and then of course he needs food and a shower so the revision/homework doesn’t get underway until nearly eleven thirty. Makes a bit of a mockery of the ‘do some work in the mornings and then you can have some free time in the afternoon‘ agreement that we have, as the morning has practically gone by the time he gets down to work. He did more work after lunch (lunch? because of course he needed more food by 12.45pm) and I have evidence of actual progress being made, so I am not cracking the whip yet.

A ‘like’, a re-tweet and a reply from an author whose book I have just finished and loved. I tweeted about it not expecting any response bar from my 3 lovely Twitter friends who are kind enough to like my tweets, so I was really pleased that the author saw my comments and was happy enough to reply to me, resulting in a short Twitter conversation. She’s a relative newcomer and this was her second book (I have read her debut novel which was also excellent) and I have been recommending this latest one to everyone that I know who reads. The idea for the narrative (likened to a literary Sliding Doors by one critic) is gripping and the story-lines are believable and thought-provoking. It’s my favourite book so far this year. To know that she knows how much I liked it made me smile.

My girl coming home from the sleepover and wanting a “huggy”. She’s affectionate and loving, on her own terms – always has been – and it’s lovely when she wants to be hugged and I NEVER say I’m too busy. What could possibly be more important than a hug?

Not a bad haul of smiles for a non-eventful, run of the mill day. I might even have a glass of wine later – well, it is Friday 😉

 

*a little homage to one of my favourite Madness tracks.

 

Stress, Social and Smooth

Stress. The kids went back to school nearly two weeks ago. Last Monday, T had a mini-meltdown. When I say meltdown, he was mildly stressed out. T doesn’t do meltdowns. He does calm and laid back so when he gets stressed it is unusual but not insurmountable. He doesn’t have to tell me when something is worrying him, it is obvious – he goes quiet and in turn becomes argumentative. And anyway, I just know. Before I had kids, I didn’t really believe the whole “mum spidey senses” thing but it is actually a Thing. Anyway, we had a chat after the argument and he admitted he was feeling a bit pressured by the whole GCSE thing and the pressure to do well. We had spoken at length during the summer about how much effort he has been giving so far and how it is not enough to just do the bare minimum. The failed RE GCSE seemed to spur him on, but have I created a monster? Have I made too much of it and now he is stressing out? Anyway, we talked a bit more and it transpired that the homework app wasn’t working (see, technology is NOT always a good thing – what was wrong with writing things down into a homework diary?) and he didn’t want to get behind with his homework………….because he wanted to watch the Apple Conference live the following evening. I don’t need to worry, he clearly still has his priorities in a different place.

Social. On Saturday night, A went to a friend’s birthday party. I am finding it increasingly hard to keep up with her social life and the way it is organised. There’s no invites any more. Parents don’t contact parents any more. Your child gets a text (or Whatsapp message, or Instagram DM, or Snapchat PM….etc) invite from their friend and they ask you if they can go. You say yes or no and if in the affirmative the details get passed to you as and when your child gets them. You don’t have to text a parent or call a parent to say that your child can attend and “hi” I’m J, A’s mum”. None of that. On this particular occasion I had not met the girl whose party it was, or her parents. I just knew she lived in “the big house on the corner of the road that goes down to the school”. She was being dropped off by another friend’s step-dad (again all organised child-to-child but at least we know the friend in question and have met the mum and step-dad) and we were picking them up later. I had an address and a time and the knowledge that they were going to watch a movie at the house and then dinner out at a local pizza place. That was all. Now, I don’t know how you feel reading this, but I felt a little lacking in my parental duties. However, knowing that I could see her whereabouts on my lovely app, I felt slightly less nervous than I could have done. And I knew two of the other girls she was going to be with who are both pretty sensible. She was being dropped off and picked up. Nothing to worry about. And there wasn’t, it was all fine, she had a lovely time; they were even left unsupervised in the restaurant while the birthday girl’s parents went to the chip shop (it’s classier than it sounds) and so she felt very grown up (which I suppose she is becoming). I went to pick her up at the designated time with K as chauffeur. The idea of the “big house on the corner” made me slightly nervous. Meeting a new person made me slightly nervous. Meeting a new person who lives in a VERY big house…you get the idea. I was nervous. Especially having had ZERO contact with her previously. She was perfectly nice, they had all “been fine” and so after collecting all their belongings (why do girls have so much stuff?) we left. I have no idea what the mum’s name was. We made small talk while they were getting their stuff but other than that she has 2 older children and one younger one and that her house is MASSIVE I know nothing more than that. It’s not a problem, it just feels weird. Up til now, I have pretty much known the parents of A’s friends, because I have seen them at school and probably chatted to them in the playground. I haven’t had to worry about this stuff with T, he still hangs around with the same mates he had in nursery. He has other friends, new friends from secondary school, but boys don’t really do the whole “tea” at each others houses thing. Or parties really. Well, T doesn’t anyway. It’s a whole new world and one I am finding hard to adjust to. We have a “new friend” coming for “tea” tomorrow and another one for a sleepover on Saturday night (I have met her before so it will be fine) – I might need therapy by Sunday.

So, that just leaves Smooth. I have not been sleeping brilliantly for a few weeks. When I say not brilliantly, I mean I can get to sleep no problem (in fact probably too easily, i.e. in front of the TV most evenings) but I have started waking up around 4am again. I don’t know why but it is annoying. What is even more annoying is that when I am lying there awake all I can think of is a bloody song that I can’t get out of my head. Not always the same song, but normally one that I don’t even like. I have realised that it is probably down to listening to Radio 2 all day.  It’s not their fault but they do play the same records over and over again – their playlist is pretty limited – and it can get a bit repetitive, and one of the songs will get stuck in my noddle and at 4am it decides to start blasting out. So, I have decided on a change of station. I started out this morning with Classic FM – no lyrics, no catchy tunes, was my thinking. After ten minutes I couldn’t take any more. I need lyrics. I need a catchy tune. I scrolled through the list and Smooth caught my eye – billed as “your relaxing music mix” I though it worth a go. Ooh I like it. So far not one repeat of a song. Nothing current, I grant you – I’m not in danger of being Down With The Kids – but nothing repetitive that could get stuck in my head, not so far anyway. Some old classics, actually only old classics; DJ’s whose voices are not too annoying, so far; a few adverts, could get annoying; but mainly just easy listening background noise with a few “oh I LOVE this one”s thrown in. Let’s see what happens tonight.