Learning Curves

I'm having a love-hate relationship with the learning curve involved with getting everything working and myself up to speed with my new laptop.

I had a lovely time at the music course weekend and loved having K to stay. She was the perfect guest, easy, accommodating, unfazed by my chaos and clutter. We chatted almost non-stop.

And so to the homework assignments which are part of the course. I have CDs where I need to identify rhythms, musical instruments and music styles. I have a portable/external optical drive in the form of a DVD/CD read/writer. I haven't used it since my old computer died, but it worked fine then, so I should be able to plug in and play, right?

The new laptop has a couple of USB 3 ports, but only has one USB 2 port. Although you can plug a USB 3 connector into a USB 2 port (it just runs slower), you can't plug a USB 2 into a USB 3 port. It doesn't fit, and needs an adapter which I don't have.  I have a little multi-port hub plugged into the USB 2 port, into which I plug frequently used things, like leads for transferring things off camera and phone, the dongle for a wireless mouse, and then there's a port free for anything else. My optical drive has a USB 2 port, so I plugged it into the free port on the hub.

The drive showed up in the Devices and Drives, and I looked at the properties to see that my laptop already had some sort of generic driver for it and thought that it was working properly. Cool!

I popped a disc in and closed the tray, and immediately the drive's icon disappeared. No error messages. The drive was stuttering away, evidently not reading the disc, the green light flashing on and off. I tried ejecting the disc but nothing happened - the button on the tray front wasn't working.

Okay, well I know this one of old. Into the desk drawer for a paperclip, open out one of the arms, poke it into the little hole next to the eject button on the tray, and it releases the catch.

Take a look in the tray, blow a few times just in case there's dust or fluff or something. Try again.

Same problem. Sounds as though there's a problem with the hardware, it's making such a horrible noise.

There is plenty of help available through the internet, lots of experts out there, although it really takes some sifting through to find the thing which might be the solution.

I searched using the make and model of my optical drive, adding 'troubleshoot'. The first thing I found was a video from some chap who was reviewing the same optical drive that I have, and had found that neither of the ones he had from new worked. Then there were lots of other reviews which said that it worked fine. No help there, then.

I found the manufacturer doesn't make it any more and had no information on it. I bought mine in 2013, I think, so it's 5 years old, which is practically antique in IT terms!

There were quite a few discussion groups and a couple of sites offering help for a 'modest sum'. Reading some of the discussion groups, with lots of experienced, possibly expert users chiming in, gave me plenty to explore.

From the various opinions, I gleaned the following possible issues:

• Too much play in the disc tray (= tighten up some little screws. They were already tight)
• Dirty head (= clean it. I would, but it can't run the cleaner disc)
• Drive failure, or all sorts of other impenetrable issues with the optical drive hardware (= so buy a new one. Even though they are relatively cheap, I'll hold off from spending if I can possibly help it!)
• Faulty lead, USB connector, USB port. (The former two were working, the latter definitely works).
• Faulty leads or connections in the hub. (Nope, other things plugged into the hub work fine)
• Original drivers needed (there's nothing available to download except some rather suspicious non-specific stuff, and the original drivers are on a disc, which, you guessed it, won't run)
• Windows 10 is not designed to work with external optical drives (I seriously doubt it, although there are a LOT of comments about the unreliability of optical drives, internal and external, with Windows 10)
• Updated drivers needed (Windows 10 doesn't give you an option to look for updates if it's only just installed a driver - logical, providing the driver works, and it thinks it does. It also thinks it's just a CD ROM, so I wonder if this is the source of a lot of the complaints that Windows 10 doesn't work, because the driver doesn't provide the full functionality?)
• Outdated USB controllers (it's a new machine, unlikely)
• Eject/deinstall, reboot, reinstall (the old, reliable 'turn it off and turn it on again'. No change)
• And then, four hours later the very last suggestion; to use a powered hub or plug the lead directly into the USB port, no extensions, as apparently optical drives use a lot of power to start up. I plugged it directly into the USB 2 port and it worked. Hurrah! However, it means I no longer have a USB2 port for anything else, so I could do with an adapter, as I automatically reach for a mouse. (And then tap it a few times and wonder why it's not working, forgetting that its dongle isn't plugged in.)

I was so excited, I let the system rip the disc without setting any options and then spent another ten minutes wandering around my new system trying to find where it had put the tracks. When I found them, they were .wma when I would normally have gone for .mp3 (but what do you expect when you let Windows Media Player loose on them? Tsk!). Then I found that my old reliable audio file converter software is no longer free. Okay, I get it, it's good software, why should the company maintain and update it for free? But it was the final straw and so late it was early (in the morning!), so I took my grumpy face off to bed.

The following day, I wondered about the complaints I'd seen that Windows 10 was unreliable with optical drives and wouldn't play DVDs; also the way that my system just saw this as a CD ROM drive. I had a look and could find options to burn discs but no, it would not play a couple of DVDs I had to hand, and therefore no options to rip or burn video off a DVD formatted disc either. Indeed, it turns out that Windows 10 is not supplied with this, assuming that everyone now streams stuff and uploads/downloads via cloud storage. Or something.

So every issue spawns another few, in this case, a USB 3 to USB 2 adapter, or possibly a powered hub, as I could do with being able to type without resting my arms on the front of the laptop, and a separate keyboard will either need a port for a connector or a dongle. Also, file converter software and DVD read/write software.

The list of things to learn and buy in order to give myself the capability I want seems never-ending. I keep asking myself when the complications will decrease to a level where I appreciate the benefits.

Ho hum, better get on with this running order for the weekend. Funny, I had one to do only 10 weeks ago or so, when my old system died. I never really appreciated how WYSIWYG and plug-in-and-play it was! I was wondering though: do others go through this learning curve with their computers and if so, how do they cope, or is it just my lack of knowledge? Comments welcome!

Keep Dancing!

I watched the first season of Strictly Come Dancing, loved the dancing but hated the way the results were given so much that I only dipped in and out of subsequent series' Saturday night shows. For some reason, I started watching the latest series and am completely hooked!

Tess Daly and Claudia Winkleman, what a team! They are so sympathetic and the presentation is slick, even some of the terrible puns and one-liners crack me up. Don't get me wrong; Sir Bruce Forsyth is great, but I love that the presenters are all women. I also thoroughly enjoy Strictly - It Takes Two with Zoe Ball on week nights, with the insights into costume design and dance technique, as well as all the behind-the-scenes shots of dance training and interviews with the dancers. Saturday's show consistently refers to the Sunday night show as 'tomorrow', but of course it's filmed later on the Saturday, after the voting closes.  It has to be, so that the dancers can stay dressed and made up. So the group dance and the dancing which accompanies the guest singer must happen and be filmed out of sequence, to allow the professional dancers to change. I note the presenters and certainly Darcey Bussell out of the judges change their outfits for the 'results' show. I caught myself wondering whether any of the presenters, or Darcey Bussell, wear the same outfit twice throughout the series. And if they don't, how many dresses is that each?  How many wardrobes ...?

The viewer voting still brings the element of a popularity contest, which is a shame. However, it does reflect a sort of popular vote on the entertainment value of each piece. It must also bring in some revenue for what must be a terrifically expensive show, with a heavy cast of dancers, live orchestra, singers, camera/sound/light/production crew, wardrobe, hair, make up, judges, guest performers, costumes, rehearsal space, studio overheads, and so on ad infinitum. Possibly the expense is the reason why it's an elimination contest, but it would be so lovely to see all the couples dance all the dances, see the improvement in the celebrities as dancers, and see weekly and cumulative leader boards of the judges' scores and the viewers' votes. The tension-pause before each couple's names are announced as 'safe' has lengthened from a ten count to twelve or more. Why would you do that? All of the dancers have mentioned what torture it is, and it's long enough for any suspense to evaporate into sheer annoyance. It's what turned me off Strictly in the first place. Count to eight if you must, but just get on with it!

We are at the half-way point of the series now, and it's started to get silly, with a couple who have been dancing brilliantly suddenly in the dance-off against the couple who sadly were at the bottom of the leader board. The look on everyone's faces when they knew the inevitable result even before they danced, and then after dancing before the judges' verdicts, had me in floods of tears, softy that I am. How the dancers held it together must be down to their sheer professionalism.

The viewer vote aside, it's really not about the celebrities being celebrities, but their weekly struggles to learn each new dance with the different techniques and styling. Or perhaps it's that the celebrity-dancers are all genuinely interested in learning to dance and are working really hard. I did a little ballroom dance in the past, but it was strictly social. Very basic steps, no mention of the finer points of footwork, hold positions and top line. I'm learning a lot from the judges' comments, which are generally fair and to the point. My internal critical voice now sounds like Craig Revel Horwood, which is an improvement. Yes, really! It's brought a new objectivity, making it easier for me to watch video of my dancing without beating myself up and feeling bad. It's like having a teacher I like and respect telling me what needs to be improved. ('Well, I'm sorry to say, darling, that there was so much wrong I don't know where to start. Hands, shape, definition, technique, and increase your choreographic content. The intensity was there, but you have to stop yourself getting too carried away and losing focus. And stop singing along.') So I can work on getting my internal critic to say 'Fab-u-lous, darling! A-ma-zing!'

Watching the show has brought up something which has long puzzled me: why are some people better dancers than others? There are plenty of scientific theories about 'beat deafness', insufficient GABA, and undeveloped neural pathways.  The first two to be eliminated in this series were both sportsmen. They were slim, fit, strong, should have a decent amount of coordination and body rhythm from their training and reasonable proprioception and control. Sportsmen should be fine with making their body do what they want it to, to follow instructions. It's clearly not enough to be slim, fit, young, strong, have great stamina or have the best one-to-one teacher and training time in real studio space with mirrors. The continual improvement of all dancers, however, shows just how important practice is. So what goes on? Setting aside conditions which affect proprioception, such as hypermobility and dyspraxia, and physical or motor problems, why should some people find dancing harder than others?

I've noticed that sometimes, women who are otherwise very fit and toned have a lot of trouble with belly dance, particularly finding it difficult to access soft, smooth movement in certain planes, especially using the core muscles. Having been an avid gym and aerobics bunny myself once (I know, hard to believe), I wonder if the two-beat, contract-release, on-off movement style becomes the muscle memory default. This is usually accompanied by a degree of tension, which stops full, fluid movement. Tension can be made worse by self-consciousness and self-criticism, over-thinking and trying too hard, until your mind is whirling and your brain has no processing power left to direct your body to dance.

Dance generally includes a wide range of dynamics; slow and fast, sudden and sustained, jerky and fluid. It also needs connection with the music, not just the beat, but an embodiment of rhythm. There are lots of other little details which need attention too, but they can be learned and improved with practice.

I'm giving a workshop in Cardigan this Sunday afternoon on graceful movement, to explore the dance elements which make the difference between gawky and gorgeous. So if you feel you lack grace, come to the workshop! You know you want to! And in the meantime ... Keep Dancing!

Tsifteteli

With so much focus on the Middle East and North Africa (MENA) in belly dance, it's easy to forget that Greece has a shared cultural history through its time in the Byzantine and Ottoman empires. Greece has its own style of belly dance, Tsifteteli, (similar to the Turkish Ciftetelli). With the Lampeter World Dance Festival coming up in mid October, I thought it would be nice to dance Tsifteteli, as an appropriately folkloric-based style. It's not the first time I have visited Tsifteteli, as something about the end of the summer seems to bring it out for me. Perhaps I'm trying to hang onto the last days of brightness and warmth, or wishing I'd managed to have a holiday ....

I picked up my still-unfinished notes and started thinking about music and choreography in earnest, with a view to basing the first half of the Autumn term classes on this. It contains a nice selection of easy footwork, hip moves and shoulder shimmies which are part of the building blocks of belly dance, but the movement vocabulary is more restricted than the variety of moves used in, say, Egyptian-style raqs sharqi. At the same time, Tsifteteli's cultural context of history and music is quite deep and occasionally dark. So it's interesting but accessible, just the job for new starters in the class.

However, I've only ever attended one workshop a while ago, which had more focus on the rhythm and footwork steps than the core-based belly dance moves or cultural aspects of it. Thank goodness, then, for the internet and YouTube, because if I had to try to research this through a library, I would probably get nowhere. The discussions around cultural (mis)appropriation are still in full flow. I'm bored stiff with the topic, so I won't go into it here. Suffice to say, I want to create something which respects the music and dance form. So that I feel I can teach with a little authority, I have been doing a lot of research to fill, well, not just a gap in my knowledge, more like a vacuum! I've immersed myself in it, become sidetracked reading about Greek history and listening to Tsifteteli and other Rebetiko music.  

Even so, I'm finding very little on the subject, so it's proving quite slow and difficult. I came across the predictable comments that 'you had to be born Greek to be able to do it' and conflicting opinions about what it was not, rather than what it was. I could see that someone else had asked the question on a (non-belly dance) forum, and the answers were a sort of off-hand 'it's Greek belly dance like they do in the clubs'. If you search for Tsifteteli dance on YouTube, most of the results are for modern DJ club mixes. The accompanying videos either show mash-ups of other videos of belly dancers who are dancing oriental or tribal fusion styles to other music, or shots of bright young things in very high heels, small tops and short skirts, gyrating away under club lighting. Anyone who can do wrist curls while doing hip lifts or asymmetrical horizontal hip circles turning on the spot would fit right in.  There are so many of these types of video, it's difficult to find something more authentic. However, there are a few leading authorities to whom I am immensely grateful; Chryssanthi Sahar, Athena Najat and Maria Aya. (Hmm, maybe you do have to be Greek?)

I've also been having an entertaining time watching extracts of the Greek TV variety show Στην υγεία μας (Stin iyeia mas - Cheers!) where they have the studio set up a bit like a bouzoukia club, with a platform for the live musicians and singers, dance floor and small audience who chat, drink, smoke, sing along, shout encouragements, get up to dance, break plaster plates or throw white carnation flower heads at the dancers and each other until the dance floor is so littered that an area needs to be brushed clear. I'm loving the music and party atmosphere (although it seems that only the young and very slender get up to dance!)

Current earworm: Tha Spaso Koupes. I can't stop singing it. 'Aaah, aaaah, tsifteteli, aman, aman, yaleleli ...'

Cardigan Belly Dance Festival 2014

The fourth Cardigan Belly Dance Festival was the best yet, with two days of great workshops and an evening showcase for works by classes and dance groups in Pembrokeshire and Ceredigion, as well as solos and duets from teachers and professional dancers.

A terrific amount of work goes into haflas and shows.  The driving force behind this festival is my friend and partner in dance crime Rose, who teaches belly dance and belly dance based fitness in south Ceredigion, and her ladies. My rehearsal schedule alone left me feeling quite tired. Learning point for next time: I must remember that, however much an impending show focuses the mind on costume, leaving it to a fortnight before the show to get it all together and make costumes for others is just not good! Getting pieces rehearsed, and dealing with the technical requirements and running order is more than enough.

It was also the most difficult running order I had ever had to deal with. Apart from the usual framing with strong openers and closers for both halves, and avoidance of the same styles back-to-back, the main difficulty was the need to allow time for a number of people dancing more than once in different pieces to catch their breath, change costumes and touch-up make-up. Topaz Tribal from Abergavenny took the last slot as a very welcome late addition, and they were great at sending their details and music in right away. I still had to chase for other dancers' music and details in the last week.  I say it every year - it's like trying to herd cats.  Unfortunately, last minute difficulties with one dancer took up a lot of time, and a last minute pull out from another couple (I mean, 11.00 pm the night before? Come on!) left the running order unfixable. By the time I arrived at the theatre a couple of hours late on Saturday lunchtime, having driven most of the 20 miles behind a laden lorry doing 20 miles an hour on winding roads with no safe overtaking spots, I was in a thoroughly bad mood and feeling extremely stressed.

The first thing one of my dancers did when she saw me was give me a huge hug, which went a way towards dispelling it. I met the technician for the first time on the day, having only had a brief phone and email exchange with him a few days before.  We chatted about the music and lighting requirements and I knew I could safely leave him to it. Sitting in the dressing room, trying to get a temporary finish on a couple of costume galabeyas also helped to calm me down.

I had three dancers who were making their belly dance performance debut, all having only been dancing a few months. This was their choice, as I take the view that performance isn't compulsory, and a dancer is ready to perform when she feels she wants to (hopefully to fulfil a personal goal or challenge and to provide entertainment, rather than just 'show off') - regardless of how long she's been dancing (which doesn't mean much anyway) or how well she dances. Everyone has to start somewhere, and these local shows and haflas are a safe place to do it. Two out of the three also decided to do the 'pop-up troupe' workshop on the Saturday, where the participants learn a choreography to perform that night.

My group opened the show with the choreography we'd been rehearsing so hard, to Nourhanne's version of Habibi Ya Eini.  It was quite a busy choreography, not really designed for beginners as I didn't think that my new starters would want to perform.  But they did, and danced well, then some went on to give the 'pop-up troupe' piece all they had too. To say I'm proud of them all is an understatement! They rock my world!

In the end, only four of us danced the fan veils piece which resulted from the workshop at the beginning of June. Although we had sent everyone away with choreography notes, music and the opportunity to have filmed the dance on their cameras or phones, most had not rehearsed it by themselves, possibly in part because it's so difficult to find the space at home. Just four of us filled the performance space; like Isis wings, fan veils are space-hungry props!

My double veil piece wasn't as awesome as I'd hoped. It needed more rehearsal, and better matched, synthetic veils, rather than silk. The SmallWorld Theatre gets very warm and I was dripping, so the silk just stuck to me, refusing to run through my fingertips, clung to itself and refused to float well - argh.

There was a man there making a film of the Saturday workshops and show, with Rose talking about belly dance, and it has just been loaded to YouTube.  Unfortunately, there's no clip in it of my group dancing, (or many of the other pieces), but I'm on there, chatting to the tech and dancing, for a couple of seconds. It is a great short film and brings back happy memories.

Thanks to all who taught and attended workshops, performed and came to watch us, Jake the Tech and those who seamlessly did all the front of house duties,all making it such a success. If you missed it, it's generally the second weekend in August, so why not make a note in your diary for next year!

What's This Step Called?

Many dancers seem to get frustrated at some point that 'belly dance' does not seem to have a codified set of steps, such as you might get in ballet or ballroom dancing.  I have been challenged by dancers asking, 'I know this as/my last teacher called this (whatever), which is correct?' To which my answer is both/all and any, and neither/none. Names for steps are a handy reference when you want to describe a certain movement, especially if you want to use it when calling out prompts while learning a choreography. The difficulty is finding a name which everyone knows, agrees on and which doesn't have other meanings or connotations.

A few months ago (my, doesn't time fly!), a colleague asked me to cover her classes for a day, and requested I teach a particular step.  I then had to clarify exactly what she meant, because her name for the step was not my name for the same step, and I knew of at least one other name for it as well. Then there is the question of the arm frame/flow to go with it, is there a shimmy or anything else layered on it, is it done on the spot, travelling, turning, if so which direction, starting from where ...? Once you start to think about the variations, no wonder we want to name a step or a sequence/combination.

The issue of codified belly dance steps or moves raises its head from time to time in various fora, along with the questions, do we really need it, and if so, which language should be used?  Ballet terms are mostly in French because of its development in the court of Louis XIV. Once you know the names of the steps, you can take a class elsewhere in the world and still follow the teacher setting the exercises.

For dancers who are keen to improve their dance, a standard, named set of moves to work on is indispensable as a basis for recording and teaching the moves and combinations, and for assessment.  ATS and other Improvised Tribal Styles use names for the moves and combinations, although the same move may have small differences, depending on the format.  The names are also used in tribal fusion, where you want to write something short which everyone recognises in the choreography notes.  In ATS/ITS, you learn the combination and it goes into muscle memory. But the dance is improvised, so while you're following the leader, do you see a cue and think to yourself, 'Ah, this is a such-and-such'?  I don't, but perhaps some dancers do.

I'm on the  JWAAD personal development programme, and I like the way they have a standardised, basic set of moves. Whilst we may or may not use their names for the moves outside the JWAAD courses, at least they give us a common reference. Progress is monitored by assessing the quality with which the movements are executed, and since there is more to the dance than being able to do individual moves, the quality of your use of arms, spinning, musicality and flow is also considered.  While I struggle with my isolations and don't feel I dance well when improvising to unknown music during my assessments, I prefer to be assessed on this relatively level playing field, which makes some allowance to age and physical limitations.  Advancement is about a technical/biomechanical and effective ability to dance a standard set of more basic moves, rather than the need to demonstrate increasingly complicated moves such as backbends or a Turkish fold (i.e. kneeling with the knees apart and bottom of the floor, and then lying down), which become difficult, dangerous or just downright impossible with age. Older dancers may be able to dance extremely well and use their experience to bring expression to their dance, without necessarily being able to do floor work or other physically demanding moves.

I have a list of named moves, for any dancers who want one. It is scarily long, but useful as a tick list when trying to build a movement vocabulary. However, the more I tried to list and name belly dance moves in all their variety and permutations, the more I realised that belly dance is more than just a set of moves, it is a way of moving through the body, reflecting the music.  There are some core moves, such as hip figure 8s, but they (and more complex, compound moves) can be broken down into slides, arcs and circles, undulations, twists and tilts or lifts and drops, which are the basis for the body core movement with step patterns, turns and arm shapes and flows.

There is a trap in thinking of dance in terms of a set of moves, even when broken down into core movements, and that is in thinking that if you learn the moves and some combinations, you can dance and that's all there is to it. It's good to have a toolbox of moves and combinations which you can use in your dance, but if you use only the same combinations over and over, regardless of the music or style of dance, it's like dancing-by-numbers. Differences in styles rely on small differences in moves and their qualities, nuances which are lost by using a sort of one-style-fits-all approach.

Even more of a trap is thinking that if you can't remember moves and combinations, you can't dance. Trying to remember moves and think about which to do next often kills flow and expression during improvisation. Posture, personality, flow and transitions and the use of dynamics are all part of the dance, but you cannot consciously think of them all while dancing. Instead of trying to remember moves, set some rules (or just guidelines) and let the music move you.  The rules can relate to typical moves and dynamics for a style, or use the classical Egyptian formula of arms for ney flute, shimmies for qanun and oud, etc.

Most important of all is musicality. Listen actively to the music and dance to both the rhythm and the melody. The thing which makes the real difference is practice, practice, practice.  So don't worry so much what moves are called, but break them down into their core components, look at the details, practise them, and when the music calls for it, let the music take over your body, let go and just dance!

'June just rains and never stops ...'

'... 30 days and spoils the crops.'  Flanders and Swann's A Song of the Weather has been popping into my head regularly, and the reason is obvious. It often turns rather drizzly and wet here after midsummer, but we seem to have had a run of one or two good days, then several rainy days.  We've had some extreme weather, with heavy rain and gales and there's another severe weather warning for today.  It's dark, soaking wet, windy ... no wonder there are hardly any butterflies about.  I saw my first Red Admiral the day before yesterday, when it was sunny and I could hang some washing out to dry.

Bless Flanders and Swann, they always cheer me up.  I had a reprise of The Gas Man Cometh last month, as we tried to find a gas leak, which ended in the need for a new cooker (it turned out that the old cooker was probably the source of the leak). Also bless my Mum for the birthday money she gave me; it enabled me to buy a new cooker, even though I'm sure she would have preferred I spend the money on something less domestic.

I've got several earworms all at the same time at the moment - the weather song, obviously.  I also have music which I'm feeling inspired to do some choreography for, one of which was suggested by a friend for an Isis wings fusion piece.  We were also at a hafla and having an after-performance boogie to the Rizzle Kicks' Mama Do The Hump, so now that has stuck as well.  With my head full of music, we were talking briefly about upcoming choreographies and earworms in class last night.  One of my dancer friends has some sort of amusia, in that she cannot recognise different pieces of music and doesn't easily pick up rhythm or beat.  This is something of a challenge for someone who wants to dance. She also never has earworms.

During the couple of fine days this week, and with the pain in my knee subsiding a little, I thought I should do a little bit of walking.  I had found a site about osteoarthritis management, and the suggestion was to measure distance walked in 6 minutes, with a view to increasing the distance each time.  I thought it was unlikely that this was a total if you were walking out from home, as the first walk might be 3 minutes out, 3 back, then subsequently if you increased the distance, you'd overshoot your home.  Of course, it's no problem if you're on a treadmill at the gym. So I decided to walk 6 minutes out, and I went further than I thought I would, just over a quarter of a mile, a rough pace of 2.7 miles per hour which is reasonable for my little legs uphill. The hedgerows were looking glorious, a riot of red, pink and white campion, golden buttercups, stitchwort, foxgloves with half open spires of flowers, the ferns have just about finished unfurling, wild strawberries, grasses and cow parsley starting to lean over into the road, vetches starting to come through - all lush and lovely.  Bees and insects all over the place.  So much pollen you could see it in the air (good job I only seem to succumb to hayfever when I am really terribly stressed).  I had left my camera at home, thinking I should concentrate on the walk and not get distracted for this first walk, promising myself that I would take photos the following day.

The following day, a tractor with a cutter came through and cut the lot right back.

So I still went for my walk, with my camera, and allowed myself to get distracted and do the 1.4 mile 'loop', but I cheated and stopped in to see my neighbour up the road.  She has started to keep bees and it could well have been hers I saw on my buddleia last year.  Now I know who to call if I see a swarm.  She had a swarm earlier in June, which settled on a rose bush in front of her cottage, so she transferred them to a spare hive, where they made themselves at home only very temporarily before moving on again. We chatted over a cuppa, grumbling about the council cutting the hedgebanks already and despairing at the weather.

It's midday and so dark, I need to put a light on. So much for flaming June!

Earworms!

You know those tunes which get stuck in your head?  I get them all the time.  Thankfully, they are usually songs which I have heard recently and like, rather than advertising jingles or TV programme theme tunes.  I remember feeling quite irritated when I had ‘I should be so lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky …’ revolving in my head like a stuck record.  Clapping my hands over my ears and singing LA LA LA loudly and tunelessly didn’t seem to work, but I can’t remember now what I did to get rid of it, or whether it eventually went of its own accord.

I first heard the term ‘earworm’ a few years ago, following a discussion on the Radio Paradise website.  It seemed to fit, even if the image it brought up was a bit off-putting.  I remembered hearing something on the radio not so long ago about earworms, and thought no more about it until yesterday, when I had a head full of songs.

I was listening to Flanders and Swann’s At the Drop of a Hat at the weekend and The Gnu song stuck.  (If you haven’t heard of Flanders and Swann, then I’m sorry, we’ve just identified a hole in your education.  Please go and look them up.  Admittedly, some of their pieces were very much of their time, when HiFi and kitchen gadgets were new things, and those born in an age of CDs and microwaves might not get some of the historical and cultural references without programme notes.  But some of their work is timeless.  You can listen to The Gnu on YouTube here).

I love Flanders and Swann.  If ever there were songs made to stick in the mind, then surely some of theirs are the aural equivalent of superglue.  The combination of Flanders’ lyrics and Swann’s music and the wonderful way in which they delivered them stuck with me from childhood until I came across a boxed set of CDs and was able to listen to them properly again.  Even so, after a day of singing/thinking ‘I’m a g-nu …’ I was beginning to wonder what I would see if I looked in the mirror.  So, how to get rid of an earworm?  One way is to replace it.  So I listened to another album of Flanders and Swann’s, At the Drop of Another Hat.  That did it.  The Gnu was replaced by The Gas Man Cometh and its repeating refrain ‘it all makes work for the working man to do’.  I was talking to a builder friend at the time and he was talking about how one job leads to another.

All this led me to remember the radio comments about a project on earworms, so I looked it up.  Goldsmiths University is running the Earworm Project and you can help their research by filling in their questionnaire about your earworms.  So I did, noting with interest the psych profile questions investigating the links to obsessive-compulsive behaviour, and feeling impatient that they only asked about two earworms, a recurrent and a recent.  But I found I could list as many as I liked using the earworms short form in conjunction with Radio 6.  It occurred to me that perhaps earworms triggered by events, habits or discussions may in some way form a soundtrack for our daily lives.

The research project might eventually help those who find their earworms disturbing, making it difficult for them to concentrate or seeming like they’re hearing voices.  Fortunately, most of my earworms are songs or music I like and if they switch themselves on and hang around for a bit, it’s no big deal.  But I guess I’d better stop writing and go do something more productive.  I’ll just go put some music on first.