Weeknotes: October 12–16, 2026
Monday, October 12 – Friday, October 16
I set up two mics and cut a quick acoustic demo of a song I've been playing live for over a year. My tiny studio/office remains a difficult space to record in, but I keep trying — It's all I have.
During a break from my online history class, I go into the kitchen to do the dishes. From my laptop in the other room I hear elaborate, cartoon-like snoring. A classmate has left their mic on and fallen asleep.
Weeknotes: September 29 – October 3, 2025
Monday, September 29
I'm in a blue jeans drought. I have a couple pairs I feel okay in, but neither of them is my favorite. When the world is in chaos, you have to have at least one pair of jeans you love.
After work I carve a soap dish from a hunk of cedar fence plank in my shed. I've obsessed over buying a soap dish for weeks, but keep putting it off. I blame the specific dimensions of my sink, but really I'm just indecisive and spend too much time deliberating over small stuff in order to avoid the big stuff. Once again, a bit of DIY effort saves the day.
Weeknotes: September 22–26, 2025
Monday, September 22
I'm listening to the Tannahhill Weavers, a Scottish folk band who include a glossary of pronunciations and Scottish words on their lyrics sheets.
Some are logical:
Dinnae = don't know
Gane = gone
Tae - to
Twa = two
Wasnae = was not
Some less so:
Ken = know
Maun = may
Muckle = big
Trews = tartan trousers
Yin = one
I've loved this band since I first heard them on a Rykodisc compilation sometime around 1990. They were my gateway to Celtic music.
Out my office window the ground's quiet applause welcomes rain for the first time in a month. Later, at the pet store, the ceiling has sprung a leak and two dog pools have been pulled off a nearby shelf to catch it. On the equinox the world is liquid again.