Happy Birthday,
mraltariel! I hope you're having a good day. Thinking of you has reminded me that I ought to go and cook dinner. The past couple of nights I've been experimenting with gram flour, in pancakes, natch, on Tuesday, and cauliflower cheese yesterday. But tonight I am planning fennel risotto.
Apologies to everyone for my general failure to respond and comment properly at present. I'm just over a fortnight from the annual deadline, so am not at all coherent.
But until normal service is restored I will leave you with a snatch of Jimi Hendrix. Usually, hearing Angel reminds me of the absolutely magnificent funeral directed by Pete Postlethwaite in the final scene of The Sins, a TV drama from the turn of the century. There, it's the perfect soundtrack to a grand spectacle. But this isn't the usual version; it's a solo, apparently recorded by Hendrix in his own flat. The second line is different, and I find the whole thing very touching, particularly the moments when his voice breaks.
Angel
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