Fings.

Today my father and his partner came to visit. It’s the first time in a very long time. So much so, that I actually can’t remember when he was last here. Obviously I made sure the house was presentable. Can’t have guests in a skanky house. Of course, they turned up early this time. Hoover still out, halfway through polishing. No big deal though, after all it is my father. He knows all too well what being a single parent is like. It was great to finally catch up properly. He asked me to restring his guitar while he was here so I offered to give it a full service too. He gladly accepted. I’ve learned so much about looking after guitars in the last two years. All mine are in the best condition they have ever been in, even since new. A new guitar is almost never perfectly setup properly when you get it home, never mind it having a service as well as a setup. So I put his guitar on the table to assess it and low and behold, it was the very guitar I nicked regularly when I was 16. It was showing its age too. Corroded frets, built up dirt in the fret ends and the fretboard was worn down through the top veneer in the root chord positions. I wasn’t sure how fresh I could make it given it’s age but it had NEVER been serviced. It had just been restrung throughout it’s life. I’m not even sure it was wiped down after use. I know I didn’t back in the day. I only started doing that when I got my Jackson in 2020! Whatever, it will be way better once I’m finished with it.

So I buffed up the body then attacked the fretboard. Using super fine wire wool and guitar lemon oil, I got to it. I have to say, I am very pleased with the result. It’s probably the newest it’s looked in decades. Once I’d strung it up, stretched the strings and tuned it up again, it sounded lovely. Far brighter than I remember. Hopefully it will inspire my Dad to play more. A loved guitar is always an inspiration to play. For me anyway. Once I had done the business on all of my guitars, every one of them became a pleasure to play. All these years… I could have, and should have been doing this for decades. The next phase is to rebuild the tremolo on my Jackson. With my new knowledge, I can spot things much more easily. The saddles aren’t even in the correct order. Ridiculous. Firstly because this left the factory like this and went through the shop giving it a setup too, and secondly because I hadn’t noticed it until recently. No wonder I was having trouble with my top string bends. The saddles are different heights to match the curvature of the fretboard. They are all over the place. I have a set of strings, and when I can take my time over it, I’ll sort it out. All this inspired me to practise for a couple of hours. Much needed as I’ve not played as often as I’d like recently.

That was yesterday (Sunday). I had a realisation today. I got through the whole day without remembering that it was the second anniversary of My Lady’s funeral. That’s new. I only realised as Facebook showed me a memory from today. Today being the anniversary of meeting My Lady. We always considered this to be the day we got together. We were in love before we even met, despite our best efforts to avoid it. Neither of us were looking for a relationship. Sure, I feel down about it, but I’ve not been smashed in the face by the emotional freight train like every other time. That’s also new. The day isn’t over so let’s see. Yet another new thing is that I didn’t feel like I could talk about it at work. So I didn’t. Great, so now I can’t even get things off my chest at work. After over a year in the vaccination program, working with such amazing souls, I could talk all day about My Lady if I wanted and every one of them would patiently listen. Bless them. Another nail in the coffin of my soul. I don’t know how I’ll fair without the soul food of my vaccination role/ colleagues. It’s got me through the last year and has even made me genuinely happy on occasion. I’d almost forgotten what “happy” felt like. Always tainted by loss but still. It’s all relative I guess.

So now what? It’s Monday, I finally had a full day with no errors at work which was a relief. I was starting to worry about not cutting the mustard. It’s been so long and components are ridiculously small now. I haven’t mentioned the day’s significance to Precious or my Princeling. I don’t think I will either. Why bring them down? Obviously it is also the day I met them too and if they aren’t aware of it then I’ll leave it. I’ll just do my usual post work routine. Dinner, bit of house work. And how could I forget… My now regular beer.

My mother was an alcoholic. ALL of my step-fathers were also alcoholics. I’ve had friends who were alcoholics. I’ve seen enough alcoholism that I have no intention of becoming one. Fact remains though, I drink more now than ever. I also drink a lot more when I do. Having had a few addictions in the past, I’m acutely aware of the craving for a drink that appears almost daily now. Not a good sign. Many people have a glass of wine of an evening after work, but I never did until My Lady passed away. I drink at least four cans of beer a week these days. Some of you may laugh, but like I say, it’s all relative. I think I’ve had at least one beer for the last five or six days… I think. I tell myself this is ok, it’s only one (mostly) and I only have more on Friday nights with the Headcases. It still doesn’t sit right though. Alarm bells are ringing.

Wednesday now. Payday. I got hammered by the tax man but I’ll get that back at some point. I managed to relax at work for a few hours yesterday and today. Soldering through hole connectors. Lots of them. Good practice. I’m still good at this stuff. And I’ve always found this type if soldering relaxing. It’s kind of like mindfulness. Shame I cant do it all day to be honest. I could handle an automaton job for a bit. I have the mental room to ponder the next few months when I’m doing this… Finances aren’t as bad as I thought.

I found myself wide awake just after 6am today. No idea why but I just got up and went through the finances with a fine tooth comb. It could be worse. A lot worse. Indeed I thought it was.