"Good taste for a young girl"

Or so the nice man told me when I bought a stack of his records:

( which consisted of... )

I guess I'm flattered to be told I have good taste, but it does strike me as rather silly to say that somebody has good taste for their age. How old do you have to be before you can think "I like this music"? Yes, yes, I know you have to be at least 40 to understand jazz, but you can enjoy it at 4. (Though, obviously, at 4 you're not going to be going round to strange men's houses and buying their LPs.)

Maybe at some point I should write something about my evolving musical tastes. Perhaps choose an album for each year of my life, or something, though it'd be a bit contrived because I can't actually remember what I was listening to each year of my life. ... Or maybe I should examine the fluff in my navel some more first.

I need a music icon.

Down by the riverside

The afternoon found me down by the riverside again, this time enjoying strawberries, grapes and conversation with taimatsu.

More distracting than the play of sunlight on the water was the horde of "local colour" on the far bank who were indulging in the popular Saturday afternoon pastime of getting pissed and picking fights. Across this backdrop coasted an amusing ongoing display of swan-endangering punt-ineptitude.

Despite the background noise, though, it was a peaceful afternoon. Lovely to catch up again after such a long absence; perhaps it's easier to catch up when you're both sitting still.