suspiciously quiet

Today's soundtrack:
Unicorn Loves Deer by Alamo Race Track
What I Learned From the Gaels by King Creosote
Kiss Each Other Clean by Iron & Wine


Even though the East Neuk is full of tourists, it's suspiciously quiet at this end of Cellardyke.  For the first time in about a month, the Spaniard and I are guestless.  Being not the most morning of people, I'm relishing the ability to sleep in a little later and to not have to share the pot of coffee, but I do miss having other people to talk to.  After all, talking to yourself gets boring after an hour or two and I think my neighbours could do without me singing along to Alamo Race Track's "Unicorn Loves Deer" ("Deer loves unicorn!").  So when I noticed that local-musician-that-you-should-have-heard-of-by-now King Creosote was due to play at the Ship Tavern on Friday night, I corralled Miguel, told him to find grab the other Canadian on the street (yes, we're taking over.  Slowly, and politely, but still) and I tracked down Ian-formerly-of-Crail-now-of-Cellardyke-once-again for a night out.


Three days earlier I'd been feeling a bit sorry for myself.  A little isolated and probably more than a little homesick for Canada.  Not that I wanted to be back in Canada, but to have that feeling of effortless belonging to a place.  No matter how much I love living in the East Neuk, as soon as I open my mouth I'm marked as from away.  Not that our neighbours aren't fantastic, because they are simply wonderful.  But they have their own lives, jobs, families and you can't just hijack that.  Must make your own way.  Add to that a near epic degree of social awkwardness and it becomes rather difficult to break into the community in any meaningful way. 


Or so I thought.


But Friday night at the Ship Tavern I ran into a few now familiar faces.  A few pints, one traditional (albeit vegetarian) pie for the new Canadian (beats getting screeched in), and a frankly amazing set later, all that self-pitying ridiculousness disappeared.  I didn't take any photos because I was a little bit too busy bopping about (there may have also been some drinking), but there were I don't know how many of us crammed into the back room of the Ship and King Creosote et al did not disappoint (also, Guido, great cover of "Running to Stand Still").  I am, at least temporarily, reconciled to being clearly from away.


Saturday morning was, predictably, suspiciously quiet again.  A greasy breakfast fry-up and a healthy dose of tea was not enough to stop the crabbit.  Thank the gods we're visitor-free this weekend.