I went for a good walk today, out from the house, over the bridge, up to the green grass, blue sky, white chalk and all the birds of the fields. Too hot for coats so we left them on an oak tree – tiny fragments of moss in the felt. Lambs suckling under the big foursquare ewes, bees in the little downland flowers, good conversation. Thought a bit about distant friends and thought I would write to you all. Hello.

I started on a new song today about a holiday to Verona in the 1960s. I found an old scrapbook in the smoking room – tiny tiny postcards of bridges and canals under cerulean skies. It’s a ukulele song, but maybe with some vocal loops. I love the loop station so much – it’s the best thing I’ve bought in ages.

The house is starting to stir after the iron of winter. Yesterday a bunch of housemates and friends went out and dug the vegetable patch until their hands blistered, and Jools has drawn a plan of where to plant things on the back of an envelope.

Saturday night I played at the Lewes Arms. Got to see Jaime and Jools play for the first time. They are ridiculously tight and quite brilliant with their matching mad falsetto skills. And Martha played too, rocking this cape that made her look like a WW2 nurse – apt considering the gig was in aid of the NZ Red Cross.

I really enjoyed myself despite being pretty glum all day beforehand, but it turned out alright. My friends who were visiting from Cambridge got to come in despite me forgetting to buy them tickets. Lame-o. Anyway, the sound was great (at least, on stage) and I felt like it went ok, so after we got home I was suddenly madly full of energy and we spent about an hour making an omelette on the cold Aga.

We had fun in the week doing backing vocals for Harry’s northern soul band. I didn’t really know what northern soul was before, but it appears to require lots of ooos in whistle register and dancing:


I’m still job-hunting, but things are good here, and we’re happy.

And I have to cook dinner. x