I got an email in my give-away account – the one I use to sign up for most things and don’t use much for personal correspondence. As such, it’s mostly full of survey offers, newsletters from a yoga class that I never took and updates about the newest drink now available at the Ubiquitous Coffee Shop.
Occasionally – oh so occasionally – I get an email from Hawksley Workman.
Okay, from Hawksley Workman’s People.
Who cares? That’s not the point, anyway. Hawksley Workman’s involved, so it makes me
swoon smile. And I’m even happier because he has told me [fine, his People have told me] that there will now, officially be a new CD in the New Year! Mr.Q is still screwed in terms of Christmas gifts, but maybe a concert will be announced by then and he can buy me tickets. Because you know I’ll be going.
Though it turns out that Mr.Q may not be so lost this season. Apparently, there are three [three??!!] CDs that I don’t have. I knew there was one or two that were sold at concerts only and, as such, I only have myself to blame for paring down the concert purse and not getting them… but, still. Three?
Crap. At least it seems they’re available online.
But I haven’t even listened to the Jamie Cullum I got over a month ago and barely skipped through Annie Lennox – and that was only because she was sitting right in front of the disc player [kinda not entirely into it, as much as I really wanted to…]. So, three CDs? Plus a new one in the New Year? Must I give up all other listenings? All Music Together? All the Canadiana in the car? Block out the satellite feed in the Ubiquitous Coffee Shop at lunch? Must I live, sleep, breathe and eat […??!!…] Hawksley Workman?
Side thought: who swoons anymore? Really and truly swoons. It always sounds like it should be such a graceful thing, but I strongly suspect otherwise…