Tranquility does not mean perfect silence all the time. I am listening to some classic music now – not too loud, of course. With the almost-portable vinyl player of Denver, loud is not even possible. A glass of white wine is within reach. Pinot Grigio. A left-over from the Saturday evening dinner with my two daughters. I baked fish, cooked some glasswort and rice. Added a glass of white wine to it. Had a good chat with the girls. And now they are out partying, while dad is at home enjoying a quiet Saturday evening.
Hold-on. I have to turn the record. Okay, side B now.
I still love the feeling and handling of vinyl by the way. Call me old-fashioned if you like, but I do love it. Browsing through the records. Taking a record out of the sleeve. Putting it on the player. Placing the needle right above the start of the spiral track. Crack-crack, and there is the sound. What a great invention. And what a great habit.
I wish you all a quiet and relaxing Saturday evening.
Silence Diary 