Song, by Toad

Mrs. Toad is not a happy bunny.  As I mentioned in my previous post, we’re homeless at the moment.  Toad Hall is being renovated (that’s our kitchen in the picture), it’s costing a fortune, and we have nowhere to stay.  Her brother was away for September and October, so we stayed in his apartment for a bit, and now we’re spending a few days with a university friend of mine before taking a short-term let for the rest of November.  Needless to say, this is a massive chore.

She may be tough and businesslike at work, and slightly ruthless with idiots in a social setting, but it appears that to provide a solid foundation for all this she needs the privacy and quiet of home.  Domestic disturbances seem to be the ones that Mrs. Toad finds the hardest to handle.  I guess that’s part of the reason why she likes me – I may an obnoxious prat most of the time, but I’m pretty emotionally solid.

There’s not much that stresses stressed people like people telling them they need to calm down of course, so instead of that, tomorrow we may just leave all the worky things behind and wander down to The Shore.  We’ll stroll about and hold hands a bit and spend all evening over a meal in one of our favourite restaurants.  Some peaceful Us Time is probably needed just to allow the shoulders to relax and the mind to slow down and to draw the sting from the tension.

I’ve moved around an awful lot myself, over the years.  I’ve spent years with no more than a couple of suitcases, shunted from one floor to the next, taken a room in someone’s flat for a couple of months and generally behaved like a bit of a hobo.  I’ve also switched country quite a few times – less so recently – along with all the upheaval that brings.

Ultimately, this may be one of the reasons I love music so much.  You can bring an awful lot of home with you in a very small package if you pack a handful of compilations, an iPod or whatever it is you use.  No matter how alien the surroundings, have a cup of tea, a glass of wine, a gin & tonic, whatever, and pop some tunes on and pretty much any ratty little hole in any shitty corner of the globe can feel like home. There’s something so emotional and evocative about music that when you hear those familiar old songs seeping through you it seems to envelop you in a coccoon of comfort and security.

I suppose this just isn’t the case for non-music fans, so maybe the comfort comes from my love of music not from the music itself, so it probably just won’t apply to my lass.  Nevertheless I can’t help but get the impression that an hour or two with a bit of Tom Waits or Bob Dylan and she’d be right as rain.

Tom Waits – Come On Up to the House
Bob Dylan – She Belongs to Me
Tom Waits – Hold On
Tom Waits – Somewhere
Bob Dylan – Like a Rolling Stone[audio http://www.matthewjamesyoung.com/sbt/BobDylan-LikeaRollingStone.mp3]