Autumn Road Trip

I have been so ill over the past week that I have been capable of little except working my way through the first two series of The Borgias. This sees the ironic situation of Frankie from Lip Service acting as a nun alongside a legendary British actor who turned into a bit of a numpty over the equal marriage debate.

At one point she utters the immortal line:

Now I must live my life in penance, praying for forgiveness.

Well, as a career move, that didn't exactly come to pass.

Other non-strenuous activity has included watching pigeons on the roof.

ME: There are two pigeons on the roof outside. I'm not sure whether they're trying to mate or kill each other. Are there any obvious differences?

ZAK: Is this question about pigeons specifically, or is it open to all species? Sometimes, honestly, I can't tell.

I love the way the one on the right holds up its wing as if to say 'I'm gonna give you such a slapping!'

I have had a truly dismal time of late: hideous cold, debilitating auric migraine, and a throat so sore that I lost my voice for three days straight. Before my family could count this as a blessing, I positioned myself in front of the piano and proved quite conclusively that musicality did indeed favour my cousin's branche of the gene pool.

I don't care. That's not what music's about. If we only ever did the things we are good at, well, it would be a very quiet life. Instead, we do the things that we enjoy. Which is murdering classics such as Gary Jules' Mad World (because the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had) and trying to play Merry-go-round of Life using only my right hand because co-ordination has never been one of my strong points.

I learned Mad World entirely by watching a YouTube tutorial. For those of us who are slow at reading sheet music, it's a quick alternative.

I'm totally down in the dumps. Had to pass up the cinema on Monday for my friend's birthday, and may well miss another friend's wedding party this weekend because I don't think lurgy is a wedding gift they would appreciate.

I have to leave soon and I really need to be in good health by then. Work beckons me to London, then I'm doing a tour of both North and South London before waving off a friend to Rwanda and home to touch base before flying off to Dublin. 

Remember: what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

Right now I could quite happily dig a hole in the garden and lie in it.

Still, one outcome of The Borgias is that I have taken to reading Machiavelli, and I think it may just have given my antibodies some ideas.