Today is Mr Beet’s 30th birthday. However, because of our imminent travels, it’s been pretty hard to think of good birthday presents for him, so unfortunately he ended up with a lot of hideously practical stuff from me: a backpack, insect repellant, travel towel, that sort of thing.
I even managed to get him a woman’s top (I thought it was unisex!) so I kind of ended up getting a present for myself. Still, it’s my birthday in a few days, so he can get his own back then.
One of my 30 things to do before I’m 30 is to learn a musical instrument, so I’ve just started having piano lessons. Well, keyboard really. My piano teacher’s even lent me his keyboard so I can practice between lessons (as you can see, it’s a beast and it takes up most of the kitchen table so it’s dinner on laps from now on).
After two lessons I can play an extremely faltering version of Happy Birthday with two hands, and the opening bars of Livin’ on a Prayer with my right hand only. Mr Beet thinks my lessons are hilarious because my teacher likes to sing, but is Hungarian so he doesn’t know the all the words and makes me sing along with him.
My homework – I can’t read music.
If I can master Happy Birthday before I go away, I will be a happy woman and allow myself to tick this one off the list.
I know you really, really like your Eva Cassidy cds, but can you please stop soundtracking every other TV advert with a cutesy-pie folky cover of a classic song, sung by a tremulous-voiced female singer who takes liberties with the melody.